Justine's gotten used to his comings and goings, his increasing presence in her life. Sometimes she's still startled to come home to find him there, or to look up and find he's slipped into her apartment without a sound - but she's eased by his silence, she likes the quiet.

It's not been a good night and it's a relief when morning comes. She wishes she could sleep late, but her body simply won't allow it. She's been throwing up most of the night and she's still feverish, but her stomach aches and the hunger pangs hurt too much to stay in bed. With a sigh, she wipes at her clammy brow and weakly clambers out of bed.

She's sure that she's that hungry she imagines the smell of food. But as she walks into her living room, gripping onto the wall to keep herself steady, she sees him there, like he always is, she knows that she's not at all.

Justine stares for a few moments at him before finally speaking. "H-hello..." she swallows thickly. "This.. this is... for me?"