[ hhhhhhh ]I took a class on back rubs once.

They frown upon the receptionist wearing jewelry. I'm not sure how far those restrictions go, but I've never seen her with painted nails either.

He lets go, quietly putting his hands in his lap.

He'll pick out a movie for them to watch tonight. Something simple. Like a well played song. ]

And now he's the one falling for their words of reassurance. The one who can't find words of his own. The one trusting the quietest, most vulnerable part of himself in someone else's hands.

His mind finally hits something solid after being in freefall. He trusts Angel to catch him.

A small nod.

[ A moment of silence, his gaze lingering on the tear tracks on Angel's cheeks.

Whatever sense of responsibility that was still drilled deep into him can't help but see this as an unmitigated disaster. He failed every step of the way at comforting them.

(///)

The threat of stomach raspberries... Has never scared me.

[ He frowns at their offer, but finds he doesn't have the energy to protest.

Nodding and following them downstairs, letting himself be guided like a puppy. He doesn't let go of their hand the entire time. ]

You said you were making plans with Angel, right?

[ Unrecoverable. You DEFINITELY sound like a murderer now. ]

[ Oh god, you sound like a serial killer. Someone who lures victims into their house to kill them. That's how you can keep her from—

His nails dig into his palms. ]

...I'm. Not sure why I said that. You're welcome to visit, I'm just. Worried about breaking client doctor professionalism.

[ "he." Angel used he/him around adri. He made mental note of that—

His face goes pale. Oh, /god, she knows. She knows /everything./
His professional career is over. ]

... That's correct.

[ There's no way he can save this. ]

mmmmmMaybe you could come for dinner sometime .

Thinking about the tasks in front of him, familiarity of life, of routine seeps back into him like a hollowed out crater.

He's still holding Angel's hand. One thing at a time. ]

...weshould get a towel.

[ His voice is quiet. Shaky. ]

Pulling the socks off and setting them aside. He'll have to wash those later.

For right now he wants to go downstairs. Sit on the couch. Watch a movie. Order takeout, maybe? They both seem pretty tired, he wouldn't ask angel to cook. They still need fluids. He'll make them some tea, maybe.

[ Angel sounds so... Apologetic. They were the one crying, weren't they? They still look upset. He wants to help.

He taps once. Everything's going to be alright.

He helps lift them out of the puddle they're kneeling in. Standing up himself, much to the despair of his own socks.

[ His eyes suddenly narrow in on Adri with lazer sharp focus. ]

...What did Angel say we were?

[ He tenses up.

This shouldn't come as a surprise. Adri and Angel have striken up conversation almost every time they've been in the same room together. Of course they've talked.

Of course they've talked about You. ]

...I.

Uhm. Well. It's.

[ He glances off to the side nervously. ]

[ Isn't that normal..?

Doctors are supposed to keep professional relationships with their clients.

...Hypocrite.

He fiddles with his nail. ]

I don't exactly think we run in the same circles.

Unless you've suddenly picked up gym training at 5 am every morning.

Ah—

[ He looks like he's Just snapped out of whatever he's thinking about. ]

Adri. Hi.