He accosts her when she comes down with laundry, shuffling out of his room from a nap just in time to take the basket from her hip as she nears the bottom. He can help with that, at least as far as the lifting goes — he has not, unfortunately, gotten any better at cleaning the clothes he sullies. He yawns, still tired, but the look he gives her is pure affection.

“I’ll keep you company, if you’d like,” he says, at least, sitting down on the couch and laying an arm along the backrest.