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Tim had been about to smile before pausing, eyes widening instead. He looked so, disheveled, gruntled, a mess. "Daren, when was the last time you left your apartment?" he asked softly, heart and stomach twisting so bad he feared he might throw up. was this Tim's fault? Had Daren not done anything since the baseball game? That was last week... "Um, things have been okay. I haven't heard from you so I got worried. How are, how are you?"

Daren what was wrong?

"Thank you." Tim stepped inside enough so that Daren could close the door, Tim eyeing the stubble on the man's cheeks and jawline. He had to admit it looked, attractive. "I suppose you are hairier than me in that aspect. All I grow is peach fuzz." Tim rubbed at his own smooth jaw, remembering when Andy made fun of him for it. "I haven't been that busy. A little bumpy at work but they understand it was because I hadn't had my medication. and Jason," the look of guilt and shame crossed his face once more, giving a small, shameful smile. "He's been good. He had less hours the past week so we hung out a bit. Yea, he's okay."

Tim walked to the kitchen and peeked in, "But how have you been? Have you been okay?"

Tim opened his bottle with a struggle before taking a small sip, following Daren out and sitting a bit away from him just for the sake of sanity. "I understand that. I may have been a bit lazy this past week. But you can't be a bum forever, Daren." he shook his head while taking a sip, "You didn't cause anything, and I intend to go. I already told Jason and my mother's so if they have time to go they will. However there was a car accident today so he may be busy tying loose ends tomorrow."

He looked over at Daren finally, "You should keep the stubble look. It looks good. Without the sweats anyway."

Tim regretted mentioning his mothers, remembering that they harassed him at the game, then he blew up on them. He hadn't contacted them at all since then he... he'd been distracted. "Yuki does deserve it. I forgot to take him shopping though. I should still buy him a gift, two gifts to apologize. Does he use professional sketch pencils? What brand sketch pad? What's his favorite medium?"

At the jab towards his suits he pouted a bit before chuckling. "Well this is simply business casual. I intimidate Jason when I wear suits constantly to his office. Someone thought I was his lawyer." he tilted his head back to take another sip of water, pausing at the wince. "Ah, no I ate before I came, I wanted to see how you were doing. But if you're hungry I don't mind you eating. I did come at an odd time."

"I hear charcoal is such a hard medium to use. Good on Yuki, then. But tomorrow at 2pm sounds good. I'm hardly busy around that time." he looked at Daren for a few moments. "Do your feet hurt? If you'd like I could massage them for you. You must have done something for them to make you wince. Did you try running barefoot on the treadmill? That'll burn your feet."

"Ah, I guess that makes sense. After a month of nothing that makes sense." He stayed silent for a moment while Daren stood, looking up in shock. "You've done that before? Daren that's bad for your feet! It will burn them and you have a chance of tripping and if you're not used to running barefoot you can pull a muscle!" But Daren absconded to go get a drink, Tim sitting there confused, taking a small sip of his bottle before looking at Daren's on the floor. He opened his mouth to call him over but stopped, seeing the red splotch. Just a small one, hardly noticeable had he not been looking at the bottle.

he looked up, trying to figure out what would cause that and took a drink of water again. How could he bring that up? He didn't want to corner Daren. Maybe he had been running barefoot on the treadmill and burned himself. But, but a burn wouldn't cause blood. Maybe a cut--

Hazel eyes widened, turning to look in the kitchen. "Daren?" He called, "Daren your water is out here if you're looking for it."

Tim looked at Daren with worry, unsure how to bring it up. But, better do it now than later, and Daren seemed to be scrambling for something, anything, a distraction. "Daren let me see your feet." he asked softly.