Like most other aspects of his appearance, his hair is not something Eiffel puts any particular thought into. He hates it short, but he can't be bothered doing anything with it long besides a brief detangle in the shower.

So, to have Jedao climb into his goddamn lap is immediately superceded by his hands digging through his hair, freeing it all up and making his eyes flutter with the unexpected, rare sensation against his scalp he is not used to and utterly unprepared for, and it gets another soft, heartfelt groan.

"Y'could do that," he mumbles; meeting Jedao's eyes is too difficult so he focuses on his mouth instead, at those obscene lips. "I-if you wanted to. I don't mind."