Your head in Rylands lap, his hands running through your hair, at first just running his fingers through the strands—then, at the lightest scratch of his fingertips against your scalp, you lean into his touch with a soft sounds. Grace stills, head dipping downwards to try and see your expression.
“Everything good?” He asked. You nodded, and he felt your face heat up against his stomach. “Did you like that?” When you nod, refusing to speak as if you were embarrassed, Grace just tutted playfully.
“Don’t worry, I gotcha.” His fingers scratch and scratch a little firmer across your scalp, and you melt against him with tiny, content hums.
His fingers drift closer to behind your right ear, and you lean against his hand, desperate for more touch. He lets out an aww, and his other hand comes up to cover his smile.
“Tilt head like canine Earth pet.” Rocky suddenly pipes up, and you and Grace both jump slightly. His comment earns him a groan from you, muffled by Grace’s stomach.
Grace chuckles, and when he continues to scratch, you lean even further into his touch.
“I mean, you are kinda acting like a dog right now.”
You huff, and Rocky chirps in amusement at your embarrassment.
“Well, I guess you’re more like a puppy.” That causes you to lift your head from its spot.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You question with a little pout. Before you got an answer from Grace, Rocky spoke up.
“Grace right. (Name) sleepy all time like small canine Earth pet, also irritable like one.”
Grace smirks down at you. “And cute like one, too.”
It’s hard to stop the blush coming from your cheeks. “So you’re not going to deny the irritable part?”