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Still Awake?

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Dusk had long since fallen over Tellius, and yet the ever-persistent Soren was awake.

For the last two or so hours (it was difficult to determine the time when he was working), his blue-haired commander had popped his head into the office and asked him when he would be finished. "Just five more minutes." he replied each time.

Another candle was lit, and a quill dipped in ink. Soren was still knee-deep in work. Re-organizing an entire army's weapon inventory was nothing to sneeze at, even for an experienced military officer- but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

An hour later (or at least, how Soren perceived it to be), the mage's eyes began to burn. A deep yawn resonated from deep inside him, signaling that it was about time for him to go to sleep.

His hand drifted towards the lit candle that swallowed the room in an ambient light, and felt lucky he hadn't quite picked it up when a familiar voice bellowed, "Thought you'd never be finished." 

In turn, this caused the mage to nearly collapse out of shock. Soren pivoted on his heel to meet Ike's soft azure eyes.

With a discontent huff, he gathered up his paperwork, setting everything into neat piles while Ike hovered behind. Promptly after that, he picked up his candle and began to take leave- but not before the commander stopped him in his tracks.

“Knowing you, Soren," Ike lamented, "you're only going to relocate yourself to where I can't keep an eye on you, and overwork yourself. Take a break."

Soren's body was chastising him, conveying the same message as Ike: he shouldn't be overworking himself. He should find comfort for the night until dawn-

-but the brilliant mind of his had different ideas in store.

“I can't just leave all this work unfinished,” He huffed. You claim to know me well, but if you did, you'd know I like to busy myself whenever possible." And with that, he defiantly turned back to his desk.

Ike knew Soren could be stubborn, but never more when productivity was involved. Soren had always let work cut into his eating habits, performance in battle, and sleep schedule.

All of which were habits Ike was determined to break.

With one fell swoop, Ike gathered up the petite mage in his arms- surprisingly, without physical protest.

Soren was not the touchy-feely type, and therefore not one to enjoy physical contact with others (the only other exception besides Ike being Mist), but was never reluctant to huddle up in Ike's cape on a cold afternoon, or into his side during the night.

Once they returned to their bedroom and Soren had re-dressed himself, he immersed himself in a book while he waited for Ike to finish cleaning himself up. He'd spent only a few hours reading it, thanks to his internal habit to keep busy when he could.

Perhaps it was the old sage who forced that habit into him at a young age, when every infraction resulted in a ruler to the fingers.

“Enjoying that book?" Soren peered over his shoulder- and there his lover warmly smiled. It was the gentlest smile he could muster, never failing to make the tactician's heart stutter. he sat down on the mattress next to him, his calloused hand brushing Soren's delicate one. He dog-eared his place and shut the book, revealing the cover.

“I am enjoying it, but I'm not far into it," Soren remarked, resisting the urge to confess that it was because of his work ethic. "It's called The Heirs Of Arcadia."

“Remind me what it's about? I think I might've heard of it."

"It's the story with the god and goddess, who split a continent in two. That one?"

"Well, no spoilers needed- I do know that story."

"Good. Then I suppose I don't need to go further in detail." Soren replied, peeking open the book yet again, leaving the room in near silence.

Given he had the height advantage in the relationship, as well as Soren within his arms' reach, Ike decided to wrap his arms around Soren faster than he could react.

He chose not to resist, but rather let himself be pulled back into Ike's chest, his head acting as a rest for the commander's.

"You're so..." Ike began, looking for the words to describe the man sitting underneath him. "...tiny."

“I am more than aware of our height difference." Soren muttered. "Don't rub it in."

Noticing he was in one of his moods, Ike figured he was probably tired.

...Or just being his usual, cynical self.

“Probably the first choice,” he thought to himself.

“We might as well get to sleep." He advised, taking his head off of his tactician's, turning the smaller man's head towards his and placing a soft kiss on his brand.

“Good night, Ike." Soren turned himself into Ike's side when he crawled under the sheets.

"Night." The commander's lips curled into a brief smile before drifting into a dreamless sleep.