He never necessarily was one for touch, but since you've arrived at the hotel, he's given himself the ability to grow fond of you enough that he'd grant you the smallest of touches. Maybe the brush of a hand or sharing a little peck as long as it wasn't showy or what not, and you were perfectly content with that. Of course- there were moments too where he'd be the one to initiate the touches, especially after harder days and he pounded a little too much whiskey. He'd die twice before letting anyone in that hotel see him the way you do.

One day, you had went up to your room of the hotel entirely washed over with tiredness and sleepy effect. This was entirely due to you overworking yourself when helping out, and you just needed a break. You though alastor was in his radio tower and you weren't paying attention, it was already a hard day. You flopped onto the couch and passed out within the snap of your fingers, sound asleep, but what you didn't know was that alastor had been on the couch where you slept, and you had been using him as a little pillow, head in lap. You started to stirr from the feel of a clawed hand brushing soothingly against your head, confusing you as you thought you were alone