<br/><br/>Adele's eyes were fixed on the coffee that poured from the machine into her paper cup. She waited until the last drops fell, and took the cup with her to the nearest vacant chair. The room was empty save for a doctor. She didn't pay much more attention to her surroundings; blowing lightly on her coffee, she let her mind wander off her patient in room 107, a man in his mid-thirties who had lost his family a year ago, and had recently checked in because of depression and fatigue. She had spent the last fifty minutes with him, listening to all the things he had to say. Throughout the conversation - if you could call it as such, as she said very little - she felt that his loneliness and fear of remaining alone for the rest of his life was the source of his depression - even if he thought that the loss of his family was the main reason.<br/><br/>She took a sip from her cup, tasting the hot coffee cautiously.<em>Just a little more,</em>she thought to herself and moistened her lips. In a way, she could relate to her middle-aged patient. She lived her life alone, but she was content with that. Her job didn't make room for much more. But being lonely... there was a difference there. She wanted to be alone, but she didn't want to be lonely.<br/><br/>A nurse entered the room. She waved at Adele, who smiled back. Adele only noted that the nurse went to fill a glass of water before her eyes hopped to the other person in the room; a relatively young doctor with very short black hair and fit physique. Her eyes then went back to her cup which he sipped a little more from.