Benjamin watched the hand on his wrist, the hand he could feel. The sudden pounding startled him and he looked at the door, but when Dia shuffled closer to him and apologized, he smiled at her. "Don't worry about that," he said. "They want to believe I imagine things anyway. I really am glad you are here."
He reached out tentatively and brushed with his fingers over her cheek. "How is this possible?" he whispered.
The guard looked uncomfortable for a moment and then he nodded. "Yes, of course. We should have compassion for our patients, they don't know any better. That is why I don't understand their resistance. They could live a normal life if they would just follow the treatment." He looked at the other guard for confirmation. "Right?"
"Right. We are here to help them be normal again."
Marc noticed the difference in her tone. "I'm sorry," he said. "I..." he wasn't exactly sure what words he had spoken were wrong, but he was certain he had said something wrong. "If you'd rather not go out..." he began, unsure what to say to make things right again, "but I'm sure, or at least I hope, you'll like this place I have in mind for a drink. But we can't eat there and, erm, well, this date is not about what I like, what you like is equally important. So, if you don't like something, please tell me, okay?"