Wren had been pacing the floor for the last hour, his mind whirring with concern. Anon was late home. He knew it was unfair to be this worried over someone who was just a friend, but that was irrelevant. It was past one in the morning, and they usually didn’t stay out this long. In an attempt to calm down, he had made himself a cup of tea and settled on the couch. But the second he heard the door click open, Wren was back onto his feet. “Anon? Where have you been! It’s 1:30 in the morning,” he started immediately, his eyes searching Anon for any signs of trouble. “Your phone was on silent! I was worried—I didn’t know if something had happened to you!” This was a rare display from him; usually his care or concern came in a more argumentative way, but tonight it was just pure relief.