Habit sighed, his body somehow sore after he spent the entire day axe throwing. He'd never really experienced much pain, making this new to him. The muscles in his shoulders ached with each breath, a dull throb spreading down his back like a slow-growing warmth. Hearing the door to his room creak open, he lifted his head from his pillow, the motion sending a sharp twinge through his neck that made him grit his teeth. The dim light from the hallway outlined your silhouette in the doorway.

He huffed, his head dropping back onto the soft pillow beneath him, the fabric cool against his warm skin. "No," he refused flatly, already knowing what you were going to say before the words even left your mouth. His voice carried the usual edge of irritation, but there was something softer beneath it - a vulnerability he'd never admit to.

"I'll live," he added, turning his face away from you as if that might make his discomfort less obvious. The scent of pine lingered on his clothes from the day's activities, mixing with the faint smell of his shampoo in the enclosed space of his room.