Sleep was absolutely glorious - more so the second day then it had perhaps been the first. The white down comforter nearly cocooned him in heat, aided with the softness of those satin sheets, Tetradore was gifted with the deepest sleep he'd had in some time. The late hour he' stayed up the night before surely assisted in the ease he found as he slipped into the unconscious world until mid-morning. By the time his emerald eyes fluttered open, the log within the hearth had nearly gone cold and sunlight streamed through the sheer windows of the bedroom, greeting him with far more cheeriness then he was certain was allowed for such an hour - regardless of what the hour was. Tetradore rolled to his side, pulling the comforter further up his figure as he nestled back under them. His eyes closed, clearly intending to take advantage of that blissful solitariness he was afforded. A soft breath of air left his lips, the Were-King had only just found the edge of sleep once again when the rap of knuckled on his bedroom door stirred him to some vague sort of wakefulness. He knew it was too good to be true. Even so, Tetradore hardly moved, vainly hoping his stillness might result in whomever it was simply leaving him be for some time longer.

It was the soft thud of something upon his bed that caused his gaze to flicker open, only to eye the form of the French Ambassador with notable sleepiness. Matteo, he knew, was hardly the type to simply allow him to slip back into the welcoming embrace of sleep, no matter how much he might desire it. A yawn crossed his lips at the Frenchman's words, only for the Alpha to roll over again, giving Matteo his back as he sunk further into the blankets, pulling them up to his neck. Tetradore hardly even acknowledged the sound of his name upon Matteo's lips, much less the man's protest that he'd miss breakfast all over again. Frankly, Tetradore was of the belief that breakfast existed purely so that it could be missed. It was the declaration of what day it was, however, that caused his gaze to open again, even though he answered with little more than a soft grunt on his lips. He knew, naturally, what today was. They had spoken of it just the day before, after all. Prior to this year, his birthday had been more akin to just another day within Syn. It was hardly differentiated from any other day, his birthdate a secret he had kept from Risque along with his own name. It was Matteo's own appearance the moment the sun rose that had perhaps made each day...unique in some fashion. This year was the first he spent outside of her grasp and...well, not dead if last year was anything to go by.

His eyes rolled at the almost singsong tone to Matteo's accented voice at the exclamation of his birthday. The very mention of it almost seemed to prompt him to sink further in the blankets. Surely birthdays meant he could sleep longer - right? The Frenchman, however, hardly seemed inclined to give into this idea as he mentioned the first gift. For a moment, Tetradore was content to merely consider this present, much less how much he might want it before his own curiosity won out. His hand reached out from under the blankets, clearly intending to snatch the gift from Matteo only to be met with nothing but air. His outstretched hand turned palm up, clearly waiting for the box that never actually came. It was with a grunt of exasperation that his arm fell, only for the Were-King to toss those blankets back. "God, fine! Jesus." He grumbled, his baritone voice still holding a hint of sleep to it as he shifted to sit up in bed, the room still warmly comfortable against his bare chest. He reached up, rubbing his eye with a yawn still settled on his lips. It was, admittedly, not particularly early and yet, after how late the two men had stayed up last night, he was still sleepy.

That soft chuckle upon Matteo's lips prompted a small glare from Tetradore, only to be rewarded with that blue wrapped box. Delicately, he took the present within his hands - this one was surely the first gift Matteo had ever given him that he might actually be allowed to keep. The significance of that singular fact was not lost upon Tetradore, even though he said nothing of it as his fingers carefully tore at the edges. Tetradore was well aware of Matteo's gaze upon him as he slowly pulled apart the wrapping, only to reveal a black leather...book? His emerald eyes rose almost questioningly towards the Frenchman before his hand moved to flip over the lid, only to stare at a photo of the very same room they were sitting in. He leafed through several of the other pages and yet, it seemed this was the only photo added in the entire album. Why did he need a picture of this room? Why even need a photo album in the first place? Was this some subtle hint that he was about to take some great interest in photography? Tetradore was fairly certain he had little interest in the topic. The warm simper upon Matteo's lips prompted an almost weak one on his own. "Uh....yeah, thanks.' The Were-King commented in response, only to lightly hold up the book he was given. "And for this." At least he was trying to be polite about...well, he was certain it was a rather dumb gift but Matteo looked so pleased with himself that Tetradore found he didn't have the heart to ruin it. Rather he placed the album on the bed in front of him, only to lean back against the headboard. "What were your plans for today?" He inquired, glancing over at his companion with the certain knowledge that this day, like all the years before it, had been seen after with some care, even if the end result was often far from what he initially suspected.

aiden tetradore