The moments trickle by and, left to his own devices but with a task to do, not once does he allow himself to slip into a trance. It's less that he thinks anybody might hunt for them and more that he'd like to keep his word. That he wants to make sure that Enver is guarded for the entirety of his slumber and not just dropping off to sleep and then waking.

The rustle of fabric, or maybe the shift of the mattress, alerts him to the change in Enver's state. The chair he's chosen to occupy - getting up every so often only to stretch his legs - creaks as he turns to look over, icy eyes filled with amusement almost immediately as the chime speaks on his behalf.

"Welcome back," is mirthful response, his attention catching more on the shape a just woken up Enver cuts against his bedsheets than anything else. It's a pleasing sight, one that he would like to keep hold of and remember when they need to part soon enough.