Carlos froze immediately. He stared at Hancock, wide-eyed
and uncertain as the dread and guilt from before quickly crawled up his spine
once again. Hancock wasn’t a person who yelled when unhappy, but Carlos still
felt like he’d been snapped at. Shit – and he was doing so well…
Carlos’ hands loosened his hold on Hancock and slowly Carlos
started to pull them away. His shoulders hunched as he tried, unsubtly, to
shrink in on himself.
“Th-that’s not what I…” He cut himself off and gulped,
trying to actually think about what
to say. “I… I’m sorry, Ba… uh, Hancock. I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean…” He looked
to the side of the tub, unable to try to keep eye contact.
Carlos was starting to doubt himself again. He wasn’t ‘perfect’—how
could Hancock think he was? He clearly didn’t know what to say to Hancock
without making him upset.
The Perfect Scientist 