The hug returned, he holds Astre there against him, indulging himself in a moment of affection in placing a kiss against that dark hair where dozens before it have fallen. He won't ever grow tired of this, or of the soft laugh, so far apart from the forced and calculated humor Astre had shown before.

"Oh, fine, I suppose it wouldn't hurt. And you're awake, so you must be starving. What sounds good to that aching stomach of yours, my lord?" One hand frees itself from their embrace long enough to reach up and push the teen's hair back over one ear once, then a second time, just to do so.