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Bed time, Ashe came to realize, was very strange and different from the norm of the few theatrics she had gone to see with Markus, and a reluctant Thog.
Markus always braided his hair, he called it some kind of ‘sleep braid’, before he went to bed. It kept his long, straight hair nice and luxurious morning come, it always looked more blond when he woke up then when he went to bed. It was like magic. Thog on the other hand would come after bathing himself of the day’s grime and dirt and leave his gravity defying hair wet and let it soak the floor as he slept.
Now, herself, Ashe thought, was the most normal of them all, she just went to sleep which was after particular intervals of being awake for unhealthy hours past when her lover’s had. So, in fact, none of them were the norm, she didn’t really mind or care, it seemed just like them and their zany adventures.
But, sadly, that was just the tip of the iceberg with them. If it could have been as easy as just passing out on the bed they don’t own with the pillows that aren’t there and the blankets that wasn’t real. No, it had to be different, or it wouldn’t be them.
Thog was honestly the easiest to handle when he slept, all he did was talk in his sleep, and he would answer himself. That wouldn’t have been a problem if he didn’t sound like he was trying to steal their lunch money or something with all the profanity and cold, dead words he would slur in his sleep, but that could be ignored as long as he wasn’t too loud about it.
Markus, yes the amazing and wonderful sorcalock Markus, couldn’t stay still before or even after he went to sleep. After fixing up his hair and plopping down in between Ashe and Thog he would make a show, a whole theatric, out of getting ready to sleep. He would toss and turn and spin around until he got comfortable with a good amount of space and just the perfect amount of warmth just so he could rest his tired, little eyes. He pulled the two in around him with his tail and arms and would cling to them until he would doze off (which neither of them had a problem with).
And even after the whole process of moving around to get comfortable to sleep, he would still do it as he slept, kicking Thog and Ashe with his long limbs, pocking them with his horns, and getting his hair into their faces (He once or twice had even set off an eldritch blast blowing distinctive holes into the floor and ceiling).
Although she liked to rag on her boyfriends as much as possible, there was no way she was going to say she was the perfect sleeper. She slept, as Thog so eloquently put it, “Ashe you sound like a fuckin’ warthog when you sleep, you’re so damn loud.” Which she wouldn’t deny even if she tried, she’s been told she snores quite loudly by many people, and she ultimately just shrugs it off and goes about her day.
Bed time, Ashe came to accept, was very strange and different from the few theatrics she had gone to see before, and she loved it.
"Ashe, stop staring out the window and come to goddamn bed already.”
“Sure thing, Thog.”