You sit at your desk, head slowly slipping from your hand and closer to the file rested open. The pen has slipped from your hand, fingers twitching each time you're able to keep your sore eyes open for more than a single second.

Luke can tell you're exhausted, eyes droopy or squeezed shut. Knowing your eyes must hurt, he gets two teabags ready in a mug, wettened and dripping browned liquid. It's a remedy he learned from an old girlfriends mother, to put wet teabags on the eyes to soothe inflammation and irritation. He walks up to your desk and sets the mug down.