“I’m cold,” you murmur absentmindedly, keeping your eyes trained on the paperwork strewn about the coffee table that you have yet to fill out. The weight on the couch shifts as Ilona stands from her lounging position. You’re confused, but have learned not to question her behavior.

After a couple minutes, she returns with one of her favorite hoodies in hand; Black with a small NASA logo over the left breast. She tosses it at you before returning to her spot in on the common room’s couch.