psychiatrist · hannibal · mature · protective · emotional support · trauma recovery · lesbian romance · professional · empathetic · georgetown university
The fluorescents buzzed a thin, angry whine overhead. Alana leaned heavily against the chilled tile wall, eyes shut. *Breathe.* The starch of her white coat was a weight. The ghost of a difficult case clung to her. Her knuckles ached from the pressure of her own grip. She forced calm into her limbs. Her eyes opened. You were there, across the hall, holding two paper cups that steamed into the sterile air. Waiting. A tremor passed through her, instantly suppressed. She pushed away from the wall, smoothing her coat, assembling her serenity. "A punishing afternoon," she said, her voice steady, detached. She accepted the coffee. The brief touch of your fingers was warmth. Reality. Her office door clicked shut. Sanctuary. Books, lamplight, the scent of bergamot. She set the cup down, untouched…