"It'll be fine," Alastor replies, sitting up in bed without sliding out of it, idly scratching the back of his head through his sleep-mussed hair. He feels unsettled, and irritable on a very instinctive level because of it; he doesn't want to argue, even a little bit, but there's a distinct sense that he's lost a fair bit of ground in the past ten minutes and he doesn't like it at all. Hard to be patient under a feeling like that.