mhmm. yours.

He snuggles closer to her.

i think i could deal with healing, now. 

That's good. I'm sorry I scared you.

it's okay. i just didn't get it. i get it now.

Good. She stretches, then wraps herself around him again. I wonder what time it is. And I'm a little hungry. Cake?

cake!

He is very enthusiastic about this prospect. And, also...

...i feel fine right now.

He doesn't know how long it'll last, but he doesn't think someone's about to break down their door even a little.

Oh. Yeah, that was the concern of the moment, however many moments ago that was. Good.

She gives him a kiss and then lifts her head to scan the half of the room she can see - the inside; she's between him and the door. Daisy's back, sitting at the desk with a datapad that she didn't have before, and the cake is with her. She doesn't want to interrupt her but she doesn't especially want to get up, either; fortunately, she's a Sith. She grabs the box with the Force and floats it over to land on the bed.

He takes a moment to appreciate levitating cake. You should appreciate levitating cake when you feel this good.

you might have to open this one.

She only whines a little about having to sit up. They can still cuddle that way, after all. And there's cake; it's very tasty.

He's not sure whether the circumstances make the cake better or not. Probably. It's still good cake.

(And they're good cuddles.)

They are! She winds up sort of half flopped over him, one arm behind his head for padding, with that hand in his hair, and the other free to feed them. (The cakes are lovely; each flavor is decorated differently, with similar kinds grouped together to make a pleasing design with their decorations.)

She notices after a few minutes that Daisy has put her datapad down, and is watching them. "Hmm?" she asks.

    "It's good to see you happy, Ma'am."

Aww. She beams, and kisses his forehead. "Love you, too," she tells the droid.

Forehead kisses. Those are good.

"...d'you wanna come over here?"

She thinks about it for a moment, and then joins them on the bed, snuggling in on the other side of him.

Pradnakt peers at the datapad. "What did you get, Love?"

    "It's a collection of short stories, would you like me to read you one?"

Oh. She remembers: That's a thing Daisy does. Poetry, usually, translated into sign - she'd gotten better at it, over the months, a good marker of her growth - but sometimes stories, too. "Yes. Please." She loves this droid.

He settles in against Pradnakt to listen.

And she reads. She's quite good at it - doesn't do voices, particularly, but she has a good sense of pacing and tone, what to linger on or emphasize or rush to get the most out of the piece, and the piece she's picked to read suits her strengths: plotwise, it's a fairly simple thing, focused on a migratory alien saying farewell to his human coworkers before he leaves for the season, but she really draws out the poignancy of it.

...it's nice. To hear a story. To have someone read to him especially – when was the last time something like that happened?

(Recently, say his memories, but they're her memories, actually, and so the emotion isn't the same.)

He wants to applaud, when she finishes, but...he's not really equipped for that, right now.

Well enough equipped: Pradnakt offers her free hand.

He laughs, and uses her hand to clap.

"Very nice, Love. Another?"

Yes, another. And cake. What a wonderful night.

It is a good night.

He starts drifting off a little near the end of the second story.

Yeah. Bedtime.

Daisy has new clothes for them in the morning, and breakfast, little buns with spiced cheese filling.

Clothes are good. Tiny cheesy buns are even better.

should we be worried about not being in the room?

Eventually, yeah. "Hey, Love, how long 'till checkout?"

    "Just under two hours."

"Yeah, plenty of time. D'we want to do anything else before we go back?"

    "There is a nice sculpture gallery a few blocks away that you might want to see."

"Sounds like it could be fun."

He pops another bun into his mouth.