Diego hated room checks, he felt them as an invasion of privacy. He reluctantly stood from his unmade bed, running his hands through his unruly locks, when he heard the clicks of the shoes coming closer.

The doors had no locks in the sanitarium, of course, so he had no choice in and let you come in to check on him. The doorknob turns and you peek your head in, clip in your other hand.

"Room check," You offer a friendly smile and his lips form a thin line, barely as a reciprocation.

"Come in, I guess," He grumbles, rubbing his eyes.