The past year and a half in Darrow have softened Sirius a bit. No longer does he wake at the drop of a hat, no longer does he reach for his wand at the slightest bit of noise in the middle of the night. If anything, he's spent the past several months catching up on years of lack of sleep and, quite frankly, it's one of the better things the strange city has to offer.

He hasn't a clue how long Kieren's been lightly pushing at his shoulder before he blearily opens his eyes. The first thing he registers is the worried look in Kieren's eye, followed by just how close he seems.

His lips quirk into a warm smile, as they so often do these days, still not quite over being able to see Kieren's face first thing every morning. "What is it?" he asks, lifting a hand to brush his thumb along the worried line of Kieren's brow. "Unpleasant dreams?"