*gets to his feet hurriedly, putting his chair between him and you, because this isn't satisfying but only sickening to watch, a little like a train wreck but more like picking on a small child (or someone artlessly and literally hopelessly in love)* Fucking hell.
*holds both hands up (I didn't do it)* Look. Fuck. I'm sorry, okay? *shaking his head, nothing derisive in his tone* You need help, Glorfindel, you know? You really do.
*jams the envelope under his arm and double-times it back inside, muttering something to a nurse about not having followed orders*