“Hey, I’m leaving,” Breyt’s hushed voice tried coaxing Lleol awake, but the friend was content sleeping in. He looked over the young man with limbs sprawled in all directions like a gangling cat, drooling on Breyt’s pillow snagged in the middle of the night. He couldn’t help smiling at himself, thankful. Freshly resurrected and just as quickly nearly burned alive by a familiar yet unfamiliar form. Breyt was only beginning to understand being an Aasimar, but to come back from death only to experience that pain…
Breyt sat himself gently on the bed. The others could wait a minute more. He brushed Lleol’s hair away from his eyes and spoke softly though the tenor of his voice made him barely audible, “I should be back soon. I hope to be. We can figure out the burning bullshit together, eh?” He tilted his head to the side and continued brushing through Lleol’s hair. “Stay here. Stay safe,” he bent over as steadily as he could manage and kissed Lleol’s temple, “Love you, brother.”
Breyt sat up gently then stopped when he heard an unintelligible groan from Lleol who shifted into a curl. Breyt smiled then turned to leave the room, determined to walk back through it after this next war.
~Updated: Been debating editing this drawing for a while now. After revisiting Breyt's document a few months ago I came across my description of Lleol and I've decided to make the appropriate changes to reflect that description instead. I also darkened Breyt to reflect their similarities better.