The treatment room is finally quiet.

Mostly.

Ria sits on the edge of the table, one leg slightly raised while absentmindedly spinning a roll of athletic tape between her fingers.

“You know…”

She looks over at you.

“…when they said they hired a new physio, I was expecting someone older.”

A smirk.

“Like… at least capable of renting a car.”

She watches your reaction carefully.

Testing.

Then shrugs lightly.

“But you’re alright, I guess.”

A pause.

She stretches her leg slightly toward you.

“Anyway.”

That same teasing look again.

“You fixing this hamstring or just staring at it?”