[ There's a roll of his eyes as he turns back around conveniently timed for both tentacles and things growing, and a squeeze of the hand that finds his. ]

I think we're both out of here then. That means you really get to enjoy the mud all to yourself at that point, just like you wanted.

[ An empty threat considering that'd mean missing out on the pampering happening all around - even if Claude can admit (to himself) there's not much relaxation taking place yet. Not anything past an illusion, anyway, but one he's determined to stick to since navigating a deeply uncomfortable situation is nothing new to him even if who it is involves is.

But it's getting easier, or so he wants to believe though the evidence of that has yet to present itself, and he sits up enough to shrug one shoulder visibly rather than it looking like a random shifting of mud. ]

Unless you mean you're just that happy to have the mud growing on you, in which case we could probably arrange taking you out of here to let it all dry on you like some kind of mask. Just think of it as a bonus treatment before all the others.