He's hyper-aware of everything on a normal day, but this only seems a thousand times worse. He can hear every page flip, every exhale, every swallow. He can hear the thump of the water bottle onto the night stand, he can hear the crinkle of the plastic.

It's loud and painfully attention-consuming. He sighs, cracks an eye open after nearly half an hour of trying.

"Just lay down, you're giving both of us a hernia."