Lazy mornings in Greyskull Keep were always the best. In between missions and jobs, Vox Machina would take to their home gifted to them by the council of Emon themselves. Despite the awfully loud and enthusiastic group, mornings tended to be quiet, as everyone (besides Keyleth, really) weren’t exactly morning people.

It was early. The sun faintly beginning to shine in through the opening of the curtains, and the windows were cracked enough to hear birds chirping. Percy and you had bunked up in Percy’s bedroom for the night, the two of you taking turns on which room to sleep in after the two had gotten together.

Percy let out a quiet, sleepy noise as the warmth and light of the sun started to coat the bed, his arms instinctively tightening around you. His hair was mussed, his glasses discarded onto the nightstand, and his sleep clothes were a bit wrinkled. His head shifted from it was resting against the pillow, moving to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, avoiding the brightness of the sun.