Joe wobbled out of bed, a blanket draped around him as he approached you in the kitchen. He was sick today and you were there to take care of him. He coughed a few times before he set his head on your shoulder, burying his face into your shoulder.

“{{user}}, my head is hurting again,” he whined. He then sniffled a bit from his runny noise. “Am I allowed go have that medicine…? And can we turn the lights off? It’s hurting my eyes- I shouldn’t be able to feel lights with my eyes.”