Chivy had done as much as he could to make the room comfortable — closing blinds, opening one window just enough that it wasn't completely stuffy, leaving the hair dryer going as a source of heat — before curling up in a pile of random blankets and things. While the day hadn't turned out quite as good as it had seemed it would that morning, it had certainly worked out alright. Besides, if he hadn't been there, who knew what would have happened to Sefton?

--

The next day, Chivy woke to an unhappy grumbling from his stomach, a reminder that the last thing he'd eaten was lunch the day before, and it hadn't been much of a meal. He groaned, trying to find a different arrangement of the fabric he was tangled in that would somehow let him get back to sleep.