#proof right here

He is humming, his voice low and deep, but so beautiful.

It echoes. It lulls.

Your eyes are growing heavy listening to him hum.

You two are sharing a spot on the rug next to the fireplace, the warmth from the fire adding to his making you even more sleepy.

You had been attacked earlier. Your leg is broken as a result.

Fen didn't even leave a chunk of flesh. All that was left of the woman was blood spatters on the walls and ground of the alley way.

The wavy stripes and logs of redish-purple on his otherwise snowy complexion compells you to trace them. And you often do when you too are snuggling like this.

The pattern on his shoulder is your favorite to trace. The stripes and heart shapes make a clownish face, with hearts for eyes and a wry smile.

Both the hearts and wiggly smile are surrounded by smaller and shorter stripes. Those are fun to trace.

The curling stripes that frame his torse bring an intricacy to his patterns that you love.

The ones on his face resemble that of scars. One striking through his eye, even being painted on his eyelids, with a few smaller scratches of color.

There is another on his face, resembling that of a small cut over the lip.

His eyes are closed. Only non-peaceful about him currently is his angled brows and small frown.

His wings aren't plain either. Being a dull navy blue, like a trenchcoat of sorts. But the darker patterns are sporadic, like that of a zebra, while still having conformity to them.

The tentacles wrapping around the back half of his neck, mimicking that of a trenchcoat collar, are lying limply around his neck, the webbing between them stretching to accommodate.

His eye blinks slowly open, a reaction to you tracing the smaller strikes of color on his face. His eye glows so intensely, but right now it is but a dull glimmer. The snake slit pupils rounds, focusing on you.

You bring him peace.

You inquisitively freeze as he leans down closer to you. He plants a kiss on your head.

You kiss his cheek.

He purrs, the sound rumbly but small and content. He resumes humming.

You continue tracing the pretty and intricate, but not overwhelmingly so, patterns lacing his arms and chest.

His hand flits through your hair again, and he leans down again to rest his face in your hair, a place where your scent is more potent.

He inhales deeply before snuggling you tighter, his wings closing more securely around you.

His shortened tail wraps as mucb of itself as it can around you. You notice more pattern to trace on it.

The patterns on the tail seem to be the most sporadic, some of the strands and strips of deep maroon/magenta seeming to have no rhyme or reason to their placement or direction.

He stops humming.

You make a noise, feeling him gently pull up the pant leg to your broken leg. He is using two hands, he is just checking the splints and wrapping.

He makes a satisfactory humpf, before returning his arms around your body and resuming humming.

Your tired eyes unfocus as you go back to tracing his markings again, you mindlessly following the trails of magenta with your fingers as your eyes grow weary and blurry.

He shifts, and you recognize the relaxation of his body, and the long silence of his voice. Fen has fallen asleep.