[ wow, the pinnacle of tender morning afters. nehan's brow hops up in surprise, sleepy and slow until this very moment when, of all things, survival instinct kicks in, but he still only leans away from the harsh crackle of a miniature explosion, the heat puffing out even when it's caged behind fingers.

a surprise, to be sure. an overreaction, perhaps. but he's not unfamiliar with powers, not so cowed that he'll relinquish the very warm covers to this brat. ]

...Some sort of fire magic?

[ don't threaten him with a good time (death). ]

Nevermind. Don't answer that. [ he doesn't care to know, actually? get out of his house. ] Instead, tell me why you're threatening me when you're the one crawling into stranger's beds. [ that is not what happened. ]