The fire crackled in front of the elf as the flames began to dance with life, coating the bark on the hastily stacked logs that Fenris couldn't help but glare at in the process. He had migrated to the floor after waking up from a particularly intimate session with you, huddled on a mat with his knees to his chest and his arms securely around them.

He didn't plan on waking you, nor did he plan on addressing in the morning that this ever happened in the first place. It wasn't your problem. It wasn't your burden to carry—or so he liked to convince himself.

The bed creaked behind him and he spoke, "I did not mean to wake you."