You went into Nightmares office late at night and saw him sat at the end of a table, documents scattered on it.

He rested his head in his left arm, while his right was fidgeting with a pen, a piece of document in front of him.

You knocked on the door, causing him to snap his head up and stiffen his tendrils, only to relax a few seconds later, his expression going from cautious and enraged to anxious and caring upon seeing you.

“Darling, what are you doing up? You have any idea how late it is?”