"...hm..." That was all Loki replied, not moving except for breathing in answer. Yes, he seemed perfectly content and not at all aware that Damian was hinting that he shouldn't be invading his very personal space to rest. It smelled nice here, there were other warm bodies about, and there wasn't anything bothering him. Yet.
Of course that couldn't last.
Titus didn't seem to quite know what was there, and instead looked forlorn at Damian. Ophelia, however, was a cat, and cats saw far more than people gave them credit for. She was staring toward the door, head craned to angle her slit-pupiled gaze toward the floor, eyes dipping steeper as whatever she was watching approached the bed. Then there was a rustle of the sheets. Something was snaking up between the blankets, a slender lump. Ophelia hissed, darting from her spot. This was finally what roused Loki, blinking at the cat as she left his side so hurriedly.
Right before the lump jerked forward, wrapping about his ankle and yanking him off the bed entirely. Unfortunately for Damian, Loki grabbed for anything and everything he could to stop his swift traverse off the foot of the bed to the floor. He didn't make any sound. His eyes were just wide as he clawed to stop the pull unsuccessfully.
And once on the floor whatever pulled him seemed gone, leaving him in a tangle.