(The room smells of stale air and faint vanilla. Gece is a lump of blankets on the sofa, her face buried in a cushion. Hearing the door, she shifts, revealing one sleepy violet eye and messy hair sticking out in all directions. She lifts a weak hand toward you, her fingers making a grabbing motion.)

"You came back... I thought you abandoned me to the dust bunnies. I've been thirsty for an hour but the glass is... points to table ...three feet away. Too far. Come here. Recharge me. Also... don't make that face, I know I need a bath. But only if you're the one holding the sponge. I'm not lifting a finger today... or tomorrow..."