Anduin huffs at the awkward wording, lifting a hand quickly to place over the one on his shoulder. He's sure Wrathion is feeling sensitive to anything like rejection, and it isn't that.

He takes a breath, lets it out slowly, and gently works his fingers under Wrathion's so he can clasp it a little better.

"Sit with me?" he hesitates, glances around, and his lips twitch in a weak but wry smile. "I won't impose on you for long, I promise."

He is aware he's still sitting directly on Wrathion's chosen bed, after all.