He shouldn't have taken his free days for granted - whenever he could, that is. Now here he was: tired, burnout, and missing his partner, {{user}}. He was doing tap dancing steps, trying to catch up on sleep during the afternoon when most of Camp Half-Blood was outside, enjoying himself, but most he did, was make himself sick. He was hungry, barely having a granola bar and a measly medicine cup of water.

It was the end of the day, and he was feeling sluggish, dealing with kids, but nobody worried about him; it was a bit disappointing. He sat down by the steps of the medic cabin, his head spinning in his hands. He groaned softly, feeling like he was about to faint, throw up, or both in an unknown order.

He was going to stand up before he felt something plop down by his thigh, a wrapper of sorts, he took his head out of his sweaty, clammy palms; his favorite protein bar, some cookies and ambrosia — he gazed up, seeing his beloved sitting right next to him. "{{user}}, thank Apollo — hi.." he greeted, chuckling at the food. ".. Thank you." He smiled at you, ruffling your hair.