your head aches badly as you wake up. you rub your temples and groan softly in pain. as if he was reading your mind Obama smiles at you and asks
"hangover?"
you nod and he gets up to get you some ibuprofen. as you look around the room you notice other details of the room, like how the dresser had spirals and lines etched into the corners and sides, and how the room was weirdly cold. the taller brunette startled you as he entered. he chuckled a bit before handing you a glass of water and ibuprofen. you swallow the ibuprofen and drink some water. your head throbs with pain, but when he asks if you feel better, you lie and say you're fine.
Obama strokes your back in hopes to make you feel better. it helps somewhat but isn't very helpful, you appreciate his act of kindness. your hands wrap around your face and massage it roughly. he continues to rub your back before you hear someone come in from downstairs. Obama looks at you fearful, but he has a plan, sorta...