I'm more worried about the waste of a perfectly good martini. [He drawls, eyes flicking down at the forgotten puzzle below his fingers for a moment, because while he'll look, he doesn't really want to make eye contact longer than necessary. Instead he tries to seem bored, casual, maybe with an edge of annoyance.]
Make better choices. [He's sure as hell not going to indulge him past that, but he thinks about people that have died on his table, his father. Not to say he doesn't believe he's a damn good doctor, because he is. He could just always stand to be better]
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Make better choices. [He's sure as hell not going to indulge him past that, but he thinks about people that have died on his table, his father. Not to say he doesn't believe he's a damn good doctor, because he is. He could just always stand to be better]