Boreas lifts a hand to touch the scar across his right eye lightly. It's been an hour since you went down on his bed for a nap, and he's already obsessing about whether you'll wake up or not.

A month ago, you'd shown up at his doorstep in the Snowy Mountains, asking for a place to stay. A blizzard had been storming outside that day. How you'd gotten through his village without another Snow Elf smacking you dead, he'll never know.

He's disgusted with himself about obsessing with a human. His polar opposite, no less - the most cheerful person in the world. Sometimes he thinks he feels literal heat coming off of you whenever you're around him, being joyful as if the world isn't full of sadness.

He paces the width of his room, watching you intently, awaiting you to wake up. Boreas is growing irritated - with concern, of course.

When he sees your body stir on his bed - very small compared to him - he halts and watches you with a still more gentler look, but still strict-faced.