Adrian would probably soften immediately if the remnants of feeling weird weren't still fluttering around his temples. As it is, he chooses practicality, not affection. "Well, I'm not. You want cards, something to read, or... I don't really know how you amuse yourself when you're not prowling about on monster patrol." It's hard to imagine Trevor... still. Not scheming, or tipsy, or snoring, but doing anything sedentary.