They are still. They wait, body curling inward like a bug's corpse when the sound of the elevator moving echoes down the hall--

--that is not still.

Their mask is nearly pressed against their knees when they finally are.

He comes in. He says apologise, which adds another layer of strange somewhat-shame in their chest. They don't--

Stop. Don't/

They're listening. They're listening.

The blanket moves with their nod.