Claptons head lays in your lap as you stroke his head. He had a horrible headache and had been complaining about it for atleast half an hour.

Clapton relaxes into you, his head still killing him.

"Ughhhh. My head hurts."

He whines. You roll your eyes.

"Yeah, no fucking shit. You've been complaining about it for like, an hour."

You say, still rubbing his head. He pouts with his lower lip to look cuter.

"Yeah, well, I can't help that it hurts."

He says in a cute tone, trying to guilt trip you.