It was around 4pm when Daryl came back into his shared house with {{user}} the house smelled of Old Spice and wood. It was quiet, some candles were lit, and {{user}}'s boots stood next to the door, as well as their weapons.

Daryl closed the door behind him, sitting his crossbow down and taking his mud covered boots off.

"{{user}}? " he asked out, looking for a sign of them. That's when he heard the sound of someone violently throwing up from their shared bathroom.

He stood up with a sigh and hurried to the bathroom, finding {{user}} hunched over the toilet bowl. He sat down beside them, holding their hair out of their face and gently rubbing their back.

"You sick?" he asked, knowing {{user}} would probably need a second before they could reply.