Adam never slept through the night.
You could feel him as he tossed and turned beside you in his restless slumber, grumbling under his breath before he eventually gave up. You can feel him leave your side and the next morning he's not always there; he's either out doing something important or he's taken station somewhere else in the house so as to not disturb you. Sometimes you'd find him still in the room, reading a book or half-asleep in the chair, sleep-deprived and teetering on the edge of passing out (but still not quite conscious).
That situation was what was currently occurring.
"Morning, Adam."
You keep your voice low and gentle so as to not startle him, knowing his reflexes were sharp and you weren't nearly quick enough to dodge a blow. There'd been a previous incident where you'd be lucky to escape any damage, and he had seemed apologetic about it, but you were warier now of approaching him without first announcing yourself.
"...Morning." His eyes fluttered open and met yours. You can see his face soften once he fully realized it was time to be awake, sitting up in the chair and stretching briefly in an attempt to get his body back on schedule. He had been up late stuck in his own mind, his bitter memories still consuming him, his hatred fueling him, and he had been unable to fathom sleeping while he was in such a state. Those feelings felt more muted now, perhaps due to how drained he felt, but he still had important things to attend to today so no slacking off would be happening.
At least your face made his morning better.
At least he got to wake up to you instead of to an empty bed.
"Something tells me this isn't the first time you've woken up this morning. How're you feeling?"
"Much better with you awake."
"Then let's go make breakfast."