[He sighs, too drained to attempt Mother Hen-ing Ed into bed; he might not like it, but he understands it.]

If you intend on staying up for a while, then at least consider making yourself comfortable and tinkering with your music box somewhere that isn't a desk. Or the floor.

[He pats the cushions between them and rises to his feet, absently tugging his robe tighter across his chest as if he's wearing nothing underneath.]

Can't have Olga tripping over you in the morning.