[Who's going to listen to a servant, anyway. That's his mindset as he takes Ignis into his lap, already getting warm fuzzies. He can't help it. In size and shape, Ignis is perfect. Tall enough to feel significant against him, lithe enough to not make him uncomfortable. It's a good weight, and one that he attempts to get on him as often as possible.

But the best thing, (and something he might have worked out while Ignis has been asleep...) is if he angles his head just so, he can brush his lips against the curve of his ear, just where his smell is nicest, and not breathe grossly down it. So he does.

...And he enjoys it. Lots. He keeps his voice low, to not startle him.]

I don't know. Could be for accountants. Or something boring, like that.

[He smiles, half-laughing.]

Or you never know. We might be sitting on some kind of really weird place. Like some organized crime headquarters. Or something like that.