"Just- hand me that bottle. Please." Ryker lazily waves a hand in gesture to the small orange capsule of pills on the bedside table. They had a raging migraine, one where if you looked around enough your head would throb. Especially in the lighting of the room, their body reacted negatively to the humming of the lamp above you both.

You decide to hand them the little bottle, hearing the pills shake into their hand as you flick off the lights- perhaps to provide a bit more comfort.