Ples shrugged as best he could. Odette liked to sleep on the piano, maybe other people did too.
I do not need to sleep. B-but, if you want to go upstairs, you may. D-do you need help?
He wasn’t sure why he asked if Avery needed help; he knew where the library was (though it did seem like the young man might fall over asleep at some point).
Um. Actually, I would appreciate it. M’having a little trouble staying awake… *Leans against him even as he attempts to stand up straight.*
A-ah, a-all right, let’s see here…
Avery seemed pretty determined to keep listening to Ples’ ticks, so the customary “wounded soldier” method seemed to be out of the question. With many “erm”s and the occasional “ach,” Ples made his way to the stairs, walking backwards and Avery leaning forward, keeping in constant contact with his chest. This was so ridiculous - Ples laughed a bit when they arrived at the foot of the stairs.
O-okay now, y-you’re going to have step your feet up…
*Rather than do as Ples said, Avery gestured with his arms. Several long, spindly limbs made of paper quickly formed and lifted him up.* This is easier. *He continued leaning against Ples and the spider limbs pushed him up enough to clear the steps. It just felt so nice, being near the man. Like listening to Owen’s heartbeat when he was a wolf, only with some of the familiarity of Abel’s coldness. And then there was Ples’ unique scent, and the fact that he was quite similar to himself.*
Ples rolled his eyes and momentarily forgot himself.
Du sind komisch.
The paper made moving a lot smoother, and they were soon in the library.
Go where you like, Avery. Though, I r-recommend getting some rest; there are a few plush chairs…
Ples needed to let Avery go so he could check on Odette, but he didn’t want to simply drop him. He walked Avery over to a chair and tried to arrange him in it.
I-is this all right?
*Avery, more out of it than he had been for some time, struggled from Ples’ grip before shuffling over to one of his shelves, using the paper once more to help him climb on top of it. This was much more comfortable. There were pages directly under him now.* Here. Here is good.
Ples made a mental note to offer his next guest a bookshelf as a sleeping place, along with the piano. He wanted people to be comfortable.
Very good then. Come find us when you feel rested, Avery.
Ples walked back downstairs, well-practiced at being quiet and invisible. He peeked in at Odette, still sound asleep. He smiled. It seemed like everything was slowing down, but in a contented sort of way. He went to the sitting room and sat in a chair (next to Sage) and reminisced about how satisfying the act of sleep was.