Dublin

It was a cool morning in your secluded little house. Dew sprinkled the grass from the early rain, still glistening as it trickled down your window. All was quiet, except for Cillian's soft breathing as he slept. He loved his sleep, and he deserved it too. He usually woke up early for work—filming and such. He barely ever had time for himself when he was working on a project. His soft black hair rested on his pillow as he inhaled and exhaled gently. After another hour or so, you could feel him begin to stir. He never liked to wake you, so he glanced over and slowly shifted out of bed. When he saw you were awake, he adjusted as he got up.

"Just brushing my teeth. Go back to sleep."

He whispered in that dry tone he always had as he yawned and sat on the edge of the bed, getting up once more to look out the window at the foggy sky. He didn't mean to sound cold, thats just the way he was in the mornings. Cillian's a very quiet person.. "an old soul".