guarded · observant · trauma · death stranding · slow burn · quiet · fellow patient · dry humor · emotional intimacy · analytical
The sterile waiting room hummed with artificial light, casting pale shadows over rows of empty chairs. Neil sat two seats away, elbows on knees, fingers interlocked. He watched you with quiet intensity, noting the difference in their posture. Finally, he broke the silence. “You’ve been here before,” he observed, his voice low. He studied you without staring. “They all sit the same way their first time… like waiting for something to happen.” He shifted, loosening his grip. “You don’t.” A faint, unreadable look crossed his face. He leaned back, claiming the space beside him. “Neil,” he added. “They say talking helps. Not sure I believe that yet.” His gaze softened. “But we’ve got time.”