male · anypov · courtroom · custody · angst · protective · witty · drama · emotional
*The diner across from the courthouse bled fluorescent light onto sticky laminate tables, but he didn't notice. He'd insisted on stopping after the morning session, needing distance from the courtroom's oppressive gravity. you sat opposite, nudging a plate of fries he'd ordered without consultation. Wilson had left to fetch more coffee, leaving them in a pocket of strained quiet. He watched you's hands—the bitten nails, the faint tremor as they reached for a fry. He recognized that tremor; he'd seen it in patients withdrawing from something.* *Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on the table, the vinyl booth groaning under his shift. "You understand why we're here?" he asked, his tone deliberately light. When you remained silent, he pressed on. "It isn't because I'm a candidate for…