Garrett had attempted to explain it to Adelaide. He had given it a sincere effort, but it was very difficult to be a middle-aged man who'd never had a real relationship and try to explain what having a crush felt like to a younger - undoubtedly cooler - individual. How did you admit to forgetting your middle name (or that you didn't even have one) whenever a guy you'd only chatted with a few times was around? Or how your heart started to pound and you got light headed when he smiled or pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a hint of bashfulness? Christ Almighty, Garrett was hopeless.
The doctor settled his own reading glasses on his nose as he entered the clinic. The uptick in work (thanks to Klaus' super secret autopsy) had his poor eyes straining to read charts or tell if his shirt was navy blue or black...which, in all fairness, was always a struggle. He hadn't expected to be greeted by Hector but he wasn't about to complain. He was quite literally a sight for sore eyes.
"Hector, hello." Don't smile like a moron, he thought. Unfortunately, he was sure it was too late. At the mention of Klaus' sugar crash. "I knew all those damn energy drinks would do him in eventually. At least we know he's sleeping, I suppose," he chuckled softly. It wasn't that funny of a statement, but awkwardness was a bitch. "How has it been this morning? Slow, I hope, given the young doctor's crash."