A Odd Object Show Sleepshot Book

Fanclock

The loud sound of footsteps was heard throughout the second lowest floor of the fancied up hotel. It was clear whoever made them was angry, so nobody investigated for their own good. Lighter steps were always heard after them, so somebody was following them. Always alternating between the two, nobody could quite understand what was going on there. In reality, it was technically rather honest.

"It makes me look weak! And you know I hate that!"
"It doesn't, I'm sure of it."

An enraged Fanny was attempting to protect her pride from Clock. Why? He claimed she was looking a bit off, so he suggested she got some rest. But as she was prideful and not the most willing to do that, she had lashed out at his attempts. But the smallest speck of her weak side admitted she WAS a bit tired, but nothing major. So she kept arguing back to whatever the circular object asked. Except Clock was persistent, and could practically sense her will to go on slowly fade with her anger.

"C'mon, it'll work out."
"Won't! No evidence, I'm out!"

He didn't make an attempt to stop her from dashing off, because she tripped and landed face first, not bothering to get up. It concerned him a bit, but he laughed a bit and edged the fan back over to the corner of the room, pushing her back onto the mattress as she sighed, clearly still angry but without the energy to put up a fight. So she just turned from his gaze.

"Go away already then. It's fine."

He ignored, hopping on next to Fanny and using the edge of his leg to drape a sheet over her. She was faced up to the ceiling, idly staring at the ceiling fan swirl in hopes it would do something. Her effort was noticed before Clock scooted over and nuzzled into her side, letting his hands start to casually turn for background noise and she couldn't help but be a bit surprised by his actions.

Eventually, the ticks and swirl of the ceiling fan sent her into a very uneasy sleep. She still didn't quite trust this whole thing, and would probably stir a lot during the evening. That was noticed, so he casually whispered a song to her. It wasn't much, but it was one that usually did the trick for him most days. When he finished, he noticed a small smile had came on to her face despite being unconscious.

"I guess that reached you, huh. Night."

With that, he let the darkness shroud his vision and the ticks slowed to a stop. He felt good for doing that, and he was pretty sure she needed that. So that made the pleasant feeling even nicer.