Okay, room full of nightmares.
It was formerly, his bedroom - but after their impromptu wedding vows, they had it gutted and styled to suit their unity. Now, neither Worthington or Rojas slept within its heavily ornate walls. Warren stood inside the door frame, a marble statue of a man, without any intention of crossing the threshold. Renovations of the master-suite had been the first project of the still married couple. Quickly followed by the time spent there. Time which was intimate to a degree he'd never known before, and feared he'd never know again. What he lamented more were the mornings he'd sneak away only to return to an occupied king size bed. One with Ren and Eva taunting him from their cocoon-like warmth.
Angel sipped the alcoholic something or another he'd poured into his glass, and the fiery liquid provided the strength to pull the door closed. He knew it was better this way. The suite had become a mausoleum for his feelings and mausoleums were meant to be closed. Besides, he did not require any of his house guests getting curious and snooping within. He very much appreciated their support (or worry), but the human-sized gargoyle just wanted his peace to brood over his new life.