Nayan blinked once… then reacted with a startle laugh that was somewhat more genuine than he’d anticipated and it took him a moment to stop chuckling. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, still smiling a little because it seemed like the perfect joke he should complain of therapist to a therapist. A child’s therapist perhaps but that didn’t really stop-hold any of the surprised mortification, followed just as easily by self-congratulatory amusement with himself for being such an accidental prat. Katie was smiling, highly amused herself it seemed. He wondered off-hand what she was thinking of him now, feeling quite silly despite her assurances that she was not, in fact, profiling him or some such nonsense.
“Well,” he said, “I have no finger-painting for you, but I am a little embarrassed now.” A theatric sigh. “Oh well, little late to take it back. Do you enjoy your work? I’m afraid I don’t know much about art therapy.”