Seeing Emma, Len immediately realized his initial impression of her had been off. The way she carried herself told him she was more broken than he realized. He let out a unsteady sigh as he studied her. His standard tactic of letting patients rant to him wasn't gonna fly here. She was so skittish and nervous, he couldn't help but feel she'd snap if he spoke carelessly.<br/><br/>"To be fair, I haven't been a therapist very long," He said, carefully walking to the only chair in the room and placing it in front of her, back facing her, "You're my very first patient."<br/><br/>He sat, giving her the warmest smile he could manage. It was a little forced, he was internally howling the worst obscenities he could think of at the head therapist for dumping this on him. His nerves were almost shot while he had to resist the urge to excuse himself.<br/><br/>Shaking his head as if to clear it, He gently took her arm with the bandage. His grip was loose, almost not holding the limb at all. Eying the bandage, his face became thoughtful, even pained. This was something he understood completely.<br/><br/>"I believe the way a therapist could best serve their patient is to understand them," He stated, gently tracing outer edges of the bandage on her arm with a finger, "so, we'll start off slowly."<br/><br/>He reached up, brushing his hair, darker than hers with small locks of purple interspersed within, out of his face. His eyes, blue like hers but almost like glacial ice, locked with hers as he felt a pang of sympathy for her. He felt sorry for her for some unfathomable reason.<br/><br/>"Tell me about your past," He said, relinquishing his hold on her arm, "Nothing big, just whatever you're comfortable sharing with me."