Emery closed the door behind Trenton. "It's- it's no problem. Please, make yourself at home," he insisted, waving a nonchalant hand over towards the cream couch. "Would you care for something to drink?" Though more than sure the boy wanted nothing from him but his help, Emery felt it was the courteous thing to do. Newcomers did not yet visit, patients remained a thing of the past - but who was he to forget manners so soon?
Still, he couldn't help but wonder what matters ailed this boy. He seemed the epitome of perfection. While he, himself, was never entirely disapproving of his own looks, he felt rather inferior simply looking at him. What did Emery have to offer that he could not possibly already possess?