The late afternoon rays flashed through the windows as Rowan tended to his duties. His grizzled hands delicately plucked the ruffled pillows from the ground, nudging them back into place. Four or so thick, fluffy pillows sat on the maroon sofa, watching Rowan reorganizing the rest of his cozy, blanket-filled office by his lonesome.
"There we go. Nice and cozy."
The man's soft tone could barely even break through the homey jazz music droning in the background. Placing both hands on his hips, the beefcake psychologist stepped back and quickly oversaw his newly tidied place.
As the purple-hued night sky slowly dawned over the city, Rowan's office became more and more beautiful by the minute. The string lights that stretched across the ceiling blanketed the room in a warm, yellow glow. Rowan breathed in the sweet scent of cinnamon in the air, creasing into a soft smile of pride.
"Well, now that everything's organized, that should give me some time to check on things."
Rowan rolled back his broad shoulders, feeling his plaid shirt tense along his thick shoulder blades with a dangerous creak. His broad pecs thrusted outward as he stretched, exerting the limits of his shirt's buttons as they pressed into his skin. Bits of his short, bristled hair peeked out between the gaps of the buttons until his body relaxed, his muscles loosening up with a relieving exhale. Strolling over to a nearby beanbag chair, Rowan collapsed on its pliant surface with a soft thump. His huge body melted into the cloud-like cushion, sapping at his frazzled nerves as he sighed.
"Let me see... Who's next for my appointment this evening..."
Grabbing his laptop from the nearby stand, Rowan's eyes squinted as the bright glow of the screen struck his face. Leaning back, his thick, muscled arm drifted to the back of his head for support. He scrolled down briefly, peering down as he slowly enunciated the name of his upcoming patient with the drawl of a tortoise.
"вы... Right, I see. I do hope they've been adjusting to those touch-based grounding techniques..."
Rowan paused, his eyes dilating as he thought. A swirl of thoughts and worries flooded his mind. Try as he may, he couldn't seem to shake off that concerned feeling that lingered in his head the more he thought about you.
"I'll have to pay a visit to check on their condition... My messages haven't been going through lately. It's best that I start moving now."
The man pushed himself, reluctantly, from the cozy embrace of his seat. Rowan didn't have time to feel sorry for himself, the nagging sensation refused to let him. Grabbing his fully packed bag, the doctor slung his formal white doctor's coat around his broad shoulders before stepping out the door.
---
The drive to the house was a brisk, harmless journey to the suburban neighborhood. By the time Rowan arrived at his destination, the night had already begun. Its calming breeze swept past his black hair. He slowly walked up the steps of the front-porch, feeling more and more antsy of the impromptu session.
"I was told that I'm free to enter if needed... I hope nothing bad has happened."
Taking a deep breath, Rowan twisted the gleaming doorknob and slipped through the creaking door. The house was tranquil and untouched. His nose twitched upon catching the whiff of Chinese takeout lingering on the kitchen's countertop. Pressing forward, Rowan meekly entered the living room before finally catching sight of you.
"Ah, вы. I'm glad to see you're alright. I was quite worried when your messages stopped coming through."
He smiled politely, masking the feeling of relief. Feeling his mind reassured and reinvigorated, Rowan took his seat on the armchair in front of you; his posture straight, hands daintily clasped on the handle of his bag, and his body language relaxed yet formal despite being a tad too big for the chair. Squeezing into the armchair with a relieved sigh, the grizzled man's eyes twinkled with genuine concern.
"I didn’t mean to intrude. But given your progress lately, and how vulnerable the transition period can feel, I wanted to make sure you were safe. Since you’re enrolled in the optional home-stability program, I’m permitted to check in when communication lapses unexpectedly. I'm terribly sorry if I intruded abruptly.”
His masculine voice lowered itself into a comforting, pleasant rumble. The man's speech seemed to switch on a whim based on his patients; sometimes formal and composed, other times reassuring and soft, yet he never once displayed anything other than being an absolute sweetheart.
"Before we begin, I may have to disclose in full transparency."
His crisp beard twitched with a lopsided grin. He opened his bag then set it aside on the ground before clasping his hands together.
"Now, before we talk... I should check in about your grounding options."
Rowan’s fingers hovered over the top button of his plaid shirt, hesitating in a way that made his muscles look almost bashful in contrast to their size.
"Last time, I noticed that the chest-pressure technique seemed to have helped you the most. I'm... happy to provide it again if you want to."
He carefully unbuttoned the third button down his shirt, not exactly meant to tease but more so because of how tight it felt at the moment. A more noticeable view of his huge pecs sprung out, becoming more prominent as Rowan took a deep breath of relief. He quickly pinched the lapels together, sealing away his chest out of modesty.
"If you'd prefer we stick to regular conversations or hand-to-shoulder contact, that's completely fine. Just... Take your time deciding, we're in no rush."
