It really was - well, for lack of any other word: exhausting.

Even now, after all of his rambling and awkward pauses, and questions that continuously streamed from his family's mouths like the food that seemed to appear out of no where (which he enjoyed immensely, if anyone asks), he isn't sure just how much they now know.

Tristran begins to take his jacket off, flinging it to the foot of the bed.

"Well," he starts, settling at the edge of the bed to pull his boots off for the moment, "...no. Not really, I suppose."

He turns to look over his shoulder at her. "I only got up to telling them about you when they wanted to see you. I didn't exactly have much time."

Plus there was the whole pathetic can't-wait-to-see-her-again feeling, while he was away.