As the man raised his voice to him, Hypnos' eyes narrowed. He considered reprimanding him, after all, Hypnos was a God. And he was a mere mortal, Hypnos thought with disgust. How dare he raise his voice at him? But then, not wanting to ruin his good time by upsetting this man, whose emotions seemed to interfere with the surroundings, Hypnos bit his tongue. There would be plenty of time for him to play later, when he knew more about the situation he had gotten himself into.
"Why I would do such a thing?" Hypnos repeated, furrowing his eyebrows and not quite understanding the question. "Because I am the God of Sleep. This," He spun around, gesturing to the setting. "Is what I do. It's what I have been doing for eternities. Sure, you might be confused at first but you'll come to find-"
But before Hypnos could finish the thought, the man was babbling on about what would happen if they found them, and Hypnos' eagerness quickly faded, his expression falling as flat as it did while in the conscious mortal world. He stared firmly at the man. "What do you mean you're not in control?" He demanded. Hypnos looked the man once over again...he was gaunt, and twitchy, and oh so nervous. But nervous for what? Hypnos glared at him; it all made sense. The odd behavior, the darkness that seemed to surround him, the strange way he had acted in the coffee shop..."Drug addict." Hypnos seethed, shaking his head in disgust.
Drug addicts. Their dreams were always the most unpredictable and difficult to control. It was always a challenge for Hypnos to maintain order then, and that made him anxious. The dreams was the one place where he was supposed to have all the control. "You're a drug addict, aren't you?" Hypnos asked him. "Pathetic. Mortals are a waste. I should kill you and put you out of your misery."