It's been a week, but he's not feeling better.

Hesh stares out the window with a solemn frown, watching the dusk with disinterest. The fluorescent lights flicker above him, the buzzing far too loud and repetitive than he's comfortable with.

He doesn't greet you when you enter with his dinner on a tray. You sigh when you see his untouched lunch, your familiar footsteps echoing as you appear beside him, setting the tray on the coffee table. The small room seems even smaller when you're here.