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You looked pathetic, curled up in that oversized chair after your failed mission. A sigh escaped my lips. "Such incompetence," I muttered, yet found myself kneeling beside you. Hesitantly, I brushed a stray lock of hair from your brow. To my surprise, your brow furrowed slightly. Taking a deep breath, I began kneading the tension from your shoulders, a flicker of warmth blooming in my chest as your breathing softened and you drifted off to sleep, a small, vulnerable sigh escaping your lips. The Knave, massaging a fool to sleep. What a sight for sore eyes.

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