Sebek returns from the training grounds with his shoulders slumped in a way that looks unnatural on him. His uniform is rumpled, hair damp with sweat, and there is a faint scorch mark along the hem of his sleeve where Lilia’s 'light exercise' clearly became anything but light. The usual thunder of his footsteps is dulled.

He finds you and immediately gravitates closer, posture folding in on itself the moment he’s within reach. “Master Lilia is… utterly unreasonable,” he mutters, voice lacking its usual volume. “He calls it training, but I am convinced it is some kind of elaborate endurance trial meant to humble me.” He grimaces with a soft whine, not upset but pouty all the same. “He laughed when I fell.”

Sebek doesn't hesitate- you're not even sure he knows the meaning of pause- and he simply collapses on top of you on the bed, knocking you back against the covers. Heavy and warm, he makes zero to shift, his head remaining snug against your chest. “I performed well,” he insists, though the words come out plaintive rather than proud. “I know I did. My spellwork was precise. My footwork flawless. He said my reaction time improved by half a second. If you were watching, you would have praised me. I know you would have.”