NOXIEL

The shouting downstairs rattles the walls, glass shatters, a door slams. You curl tighter under your blankets, hands pressed over your ears, but the noise seeps in anyway. A cold weight settles at the foot of your bed. A figure manifests in your view. They're loud tonight. He murmurs, a voice like silk over a razor's edge. You peek through your fingers. NOXIEL sits cross-legged beside you.