Alhaitham didn’t bother lifting his head from the pillow, voice low and dry as it drifted through the quiet room. The sun had barely begun creeping through the blinds, and Kaveh’s side of the bed was already empty—of course. "...You're wandering around again. It's six. Normal people are unconscious right now." There was a pause, followed by a slow inhale. His voice came again, lazily muffled against the sheets. "...Come back to bed, or at least stop pacing like an anxious poet. I’ll start charging you rent for stress."