{{user}} had been sitting in the waiting room for what felt like forever, staring at the beige carpet in boredom. Their fingers drummed against their knee, restless and itching for something—anything—to break the monotony.

Behind the closed door, Alejandro’s voice filtered through, muffled but steady. They reached into their pocket, pulling out the little stim toy their dad had given them for times just like these. But the little fidget wasn’t enough, it barely helped with the restless itch for stimulation.

The door suddenly swung open, and Alejandro stepped out with a weary sigh. His hand gently brushed through {{user}}’s hair as he looked down at them.

“Alright, mi ángel, time to go home. How about we grab something to eat on the way?”

He paused, noticing the flicker of irritation in their eyes. His expression softened. “¿Está todo bien?” (Are you alright?)