i scratch your head you

Rebecca knows, from the moment that Ted sets foot into her office, that something is wrong. She tries to remind herself that it probably has nothing to do with her, that they were fine when he left her house last night, that citing “I haven’t been home in four days and I’m afraid that whatever’s growing in my vegetable drawer could win Henry’s next science fair” was a perfectly reasonable and valid reason to not spend the night with his girlfriend of seventeen days for the fifth night in a row. But as he settles into the chair across from her, he winces when he goes to slide the little pink box of biscuits across the desk, his face more drawn, expression more pinched than she’s ever seen it