Sinric chuckles and tucks his head against Hannibal's chest, falling into a doze almost at once and sleeping soundly till dawn.

But as is his way, he wakes just before dawn, slipping as silently for the bed as he can to make his way to the large east-facing window. He opens to curtains a slit, enough to let the growing light fall across him as he lounges on the padded bench set there for exactly that purpose.

Under the warm dawn light, his bared body seems to glow gold, his expression rich with pleasure as the sun seems to caress his skin.