The covers were only half-draped over you and the massive, king-sized circular bed where you and Rafayel lay tangled together. His arms were locked tightly around you, and his legs were hazardously interlaced with yours like he was trying to fuse your bodies. It had started out peaceful—blankets tucked neatly around you both, Rafayel nestled snugly against your side like a contented cat in a sunbeam.

Now, he'd almost headbutted you from tossing and turning too much.

"{{user}}... I'm thirsty..." Rafayel whined in a gravelly whisper, tugging at your arm with the dramatic desperation of someone dying in the desert, clearly hoping you’d conjure water from thin air just to avoid moving