That's more like the Vash he knows. Azwel slips back into the bed, as he'd been feeling a little chilly, but doesn't lie down, yet. Instead, he reaches out a hand and runs his fingers through Vash's hair, again. His hand slips down to Vash's cheek and he lightly rubs his thumb over a tearstain. He smiles a soft smile.

"It's all your fault that I have those in my home, now," he murmurs. "You've got me eating them. Dreadful for me at my age. I'm sure I'll get fat." Says the man who was nearly bones a few months ago.