ximss_10
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They had come to be a highlight of his day, these missives from his boss. They made him feel special, chosen to see Robby’s revival play out in real time, although it was possible Robby was texting others too, maybe Abbot or Dana or Noelle. It had gotten to the point that Whitaker, never the biggest fan of smartphones—of any flashy tech, really—would scramble to retrieve his device from whatever odd shelf or surface he’d forgotten it on the second he heard it buzz. When it was Robby, his expression would involuntarily screw into an amused little grin, scanning the text a few times before deciding how to respond. If it was anyone else, Santos asking about bills, his mother badgering him to visit, he would drop his phone unceremoniously between the couch cushions and ignore the message for hours.
But Robby hadn’t sent one in days—six days, to be exact.
On his way home from Canada, Robby goes radio silent and his favorite resident spirals. When he comes home two weeks before he was scheduled to and finds Whitaker standing half-naked in his kitchen, things get even more complicated. (Or, everyone in Dennis Whitaker's life is falling apart around him, and he doesn't know how to not help.)
Bookmarked by ximss_10
23 Jun 2026