❝ i see you’re not getting much sleep either. should i make us both some tea, then? ❞
Bleary blue eyes lift at the sound of the other's voice, and there's a light jump of his frame as the quiet is broken. Aodhán's tall frame looms in the doorway a moment before he fully enters the room, looking as tired and rumpled as Dax does. A sympathetic gaze lingers on the other. As a light sleeper, Daxton is doomed either way. This is just the eventual outcome of an night spent in new, wholly unfamiliar surroundings: a home that is not his own.
His hair sits disheveled on his head, evidence of an attempt made regardless, and a blanket pools around his middle and lap where he sits on the squashy couch. "That'd be fine," he finally answers, lifting a hand to scrub at his eyes once. "Wasn't expecting to anyway if I'm honest."
