"Hawk, how are you feeling? How are the ribs?" Taylor asks, and he means it.
It has been a day since Hawk returned to the hotel. Discharged but far from healed, he has spent the entire time confined to his room, doing absolutely nothing but sleeping, eating, and staring at the TV.
Hawk harrumphs. "I'm bored, Taylor. Genuinely bored. My ribs still hurt every time I move, and because I haven't been moving much, my muscles are stiff and completely uncooperative. I want to get up and train, but everything hurts. So tell me, what exactly am I supposed to do?" He directs the full weight of his frustration squarely at Taylor.
Taylor makes a face. "Sorry, Hawk. I was just checking in. I can't imagine how frustrating it must be."
Hawk sighs. "No, I'm sorry. I've been cooped up in this stuffy room too long. It's getting to me."
Taylor, being the good person he is, smiles without any judgment. "It's alright. I'd be the same way in your position."
