Declan fluttered around—if a guy as big as him could be said to ‘flutter’, anyway—but for the most part, Aoba did not move.
At one point, after a long stillness, he reached down for Ren. The Allmate nuzzled into the provided palm, then promptly curled up into sleep mode at a stroke between his ears.
At another, Aoba sat up just long enough to investigate the bottle of pills. After a chuckle, he took a dose and a nice long pull of the water, then lay down again. Adjusting the fall of the rag over his eyes and the headphones around his neck, he settled comfortably with his hands on his stomach and was still once more.
When Declan arrived with the tea, Aoba’s head rolled slightly in his direction in a show of attentiveness. Though it wasn’t as damp or cold anymore, the washrag was still draped over his eyes, and after the Guardian had spoken a smile crept across the portion of Aoba’s still-visible face. It didn’t look like Aoba’s usual smiles. Not to say there was something wrong with it, but it was a little lopsided, perhaps almost half smirk.
“The bedroom, huh?” he answered, voice a little deeper, a little drawling, as if Declan’s arrival had roused him from a nap. He even shifted, stretching out, and let his arms drape overhead, hanging over the edge of the couch arm. “Got something special planned for me in there, do you…?”
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At one point, after a long stillness, he reached down for Ren. The Allmate nuzzled into the provided palm, then promptly curled up into sleep mode at a stroke between his ears.
At another, Aoba sat up just long enough to investigate the bottle of pills. After a chuckle, he took a dose and a nice long pull of the water, then lay down again. Adjusting the fall of the rag over his eyes and the headphones around his neck, he settled comfortably with his hands on his stomach and was still once more.
When Declan arrived with the tea, Aoba’s head rolled slightly in his direction in a show of attentiveness. Though it wasn’t as damp or cold anymore, the washrag was still draped over his eyes, and after the Guardian had spoken a smile crept across the portion of Aoba’s still-visible face. It didn’t look like Aoba’s usual smiles. Not to say there was something wrong with it, but it was a little lopsided, perhaps almost half smirk.
“The bedroom, huh?” he answered, voice a little deeper, a little drawling, as if Declan’s arrival had roused him from a nap. He even shifted, stretching out, and let his arms drape overhead, hanging over the edge of the couch arm. “Got something special planned for me in there, do you…?”