#petrova-problem

@petrova-problem ctd from (x)

His head turned towards the knocking. Stratt was at the door looking impatiently at him (or was that just how she looked at him in general?). Grace stood to his feet, still holding his noodles. "Okay I'll-" He turned towards his companion with a shrug, he would take his noodles with him. Walking towards the door, he pushed it open.

"Everything okay? We're leaving now?" He hadn't expected her for a couple hours, at least.

"Yes, Dr. Grace?" ( @petrova-problem )

x - sender notices receiver looking at them - @petrova-problem

"agh- Sorry."

He turns his eyes to the floor. Six weeks now. Six weeks of being escorted to random spots by Stratt, just about every day. He doesn't really do weekends anymore, which has been awkward and has, in fact, wreaked hell on his sleep schedule. He can only imagine what horrors of substitutes his kids are coping with.

And for what? To be the science lapdog of a mysterious older woman? There are certainly people who'd kill for the opportunity, but he doesn't even get to go to starbucks anymore. Has to beg for it from one of the guards. Not that he minds never having to pay for anything ever again, but it'd be nice to just... talk to a barista.

He's got a panini, at least. Overpriced and kind of soggy, just how he likes it.

"Sorry. Just, y'know, we've been hanging out for so long now, and I think I just realized. I don't think I've ever seen you, uh... eat? You do do that, right?"