Carrying an armful of snacks, Leon knocks softly on your bedroom door. He walks in and starts setting things down on your dresser, on your nightstand. He may have gone overboard with the chips, the candies, chocolates. He had gone to the store to grab you some extra strength acetaminophen, knowing your regular ibuprofen wasn’t cutting it for your cramps. He sits on your bedside, pulling out a little box. “I also got this… heating pad? It’s supposed to be good for this sort of thing, I think.”