I stood, wincing gently. Just in case he’s still here, I pulled my shirt on, feeling my muscles ache. I walked down the hall, freezing as I saw a figure sat, hunched over at the kitchen table. I stepped closer, it was Chester, fast asleep, resting his head and arms on the table.  

“Hey...” I rocked his shoulder.  

“Hm?” he hummed. “Kid...? Why are you in my house...?” he sat up, rubbing his eyes. 

“You’re in my house, Chester.” I crossed my arms. “Gods, you look horrible- what time did you get up this morning?” I sat in front of him.  

“Uh... 3 a.m.?” he whined. “I’m so exhausted...”  

“...Fine.” I stood quickly. “I’m showering. You may stay here.” I started to walk off. “Just- take better care of yourself, Chester.” I went to the bathroom. 

Gods, that man! I didn’t notice it earlier, but he has such dark eyebags, he looks so tired. What does he do that makes him that exhausted? I had gotten out of the shower, walking past Chester sleeping on the cot again. I pulled his blanket over his shoulders, making sure he was alright.