[@itsyobirthd4y] Unfairness at its finest
…Hm?
So this scary guy was Mr Strange Name the friend Art had referred to? The one that took a week to finally show some concern? He supposed punching him wouldn’t solve anything except get him in trouble with police; not that he wasn’t already in trouble with them somehow. Though, it wasn’t as if any attack he preformed would have any force behind it.
"Ratio, Ratio," he tested, the name sounding familiar yet distant on his tongue, "I’ve heard about you from a certain police officer with a disgusting mole." There was still a smirk on his face, but it seemed more and more forced by the second. "I must say, doc, I’m hurt it took you so long to visit.
"After all, we’re suppose to be old friends, right?" There was a hint of smothered bitterness in his voice and in his words; he couldn’t help but feel a little upset, though he didn’t particularly know why. It was a mystery to him why he had such mixed feelings now: he should be completely and utterly pissed, yet there was a hint of relief mixed in.
Ratio was visibly taken aback by Birthday's reaction.
So Art did say unnecessary things to the blond -- Ratio would make sure he wouldn't be visiting again. At least not for the mean time. Either way, he didn't fool himself into thinking that maybe, just maybe, Birthday remembered anything about him. His words were enough proof of that.
Clearing his throat and flexing his fingers, the doctor fought to keep his composure untouched as he adjusted the black gloves hidding both of his hands. "I wasn't in town when you... Got in the accident." The fact he had been back since the previous day didn't need to be said out loud. Only God knew how much courage he had to gather up in order to be sitting there right now.
"Stay still." Reaching for the handcuffs, Ratio stuck two fingers between the metal and Birthday's wrist. All he needed was to press little strength against the material for it to twist enough to allow the younger male's hand to slip free. Perhaps showing off his unnatural strength wasn't a good idea, but what did Art had in mind when he handcuffed an ill patient, after all?
Honestly.
Reaching for the tablet previously left aside, his attention seemed to focus on it as he typed down a few words. It was hard to look at Birthday and be stared back with such an... Unfamiliar gaze, as if he's a stranger. The lump in his throat was already uncomfortable enough.
"How are you feeling today? Does your head still hurt?"


















