It comes out like short laugh, a chuff of barely-there humour. It's not funny, but it is, and he can't help it. He rests his forearm to the crook of Steak's elbow, his fingers splaying feather-light over one bicep, and he lets out another sigh.
Maybe he should have tried harder to tell Steak how bad it was getting, but Steak has never listened to him before.
"Wake me up in the morning," he mutters, trying to settle down again.
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It comes out like short laugh, a chuff of barely-there humour. It's not funny, but it is, and he can't help it. He rests his forearm to the crook of Steak's elbow, his fingers splaying feather-light over one bicep, and he lets out another sigh.
Maybe he should have tried harder to tell Steak how bad it was getting, but Steak has never listened to him before.
"Wake me up in the morning," he mutters, trying to settle down again.