The month of April had arguably been one of the worst since her debut — if not for the events that had actually taken place, the gossip would suffice to put her in a sour mood. Work was her happy place, so she always did her best to keep a bright smile on her face while there; however, even if her smile was bright, her manner of speaking and fidgeting provided enough for onlookers to realize she wasn't really happy. On top of the slanderous accusations by Witch Weekly (which, fortunately, only a small percentage of the population read, and even a smaller percentage that took it to heart), there had been rumors circulating about her being at certain places and with certain people.

On a brighter note, her internship was nearing its end, but that also meant her days at the hospital had gotten longer in preparation for the full job. The skies were already dark when she'd clocked out and grabbed her things, and she'd made her way down to the reception area with her arms wrapped protectively around her torso. There weren't but a few people sitting in the waiting room, but there was a familiar face standing off to the side of the room: Mr. Gladstone.

She definitely felt something deeper than friendship for him, but those feelings had been thrown off guard by her escapade to Ireland with Mr. Crouch. She felt embarrassed to approach him — it was like he'd know what she'd done or what her deepest secrets were the moment he looked at her, and she actually cared about his opinion. It also didn't help that a few days earlier her direct superior had come to the incorrect conclusion that she had feelings for him, so she could only imagine what correct impression (if any) she'd given the other healer-in-charge.

She couldn't avoid him forever, though, or she might give him the impression that he'd done something.

"Hello, Mr. Gladstone," she greeted warmly as she approached, brushing one of many stray hairs out of her face. "I'm beginning to think you never leave the hospital. It feels like you're always here when I arrive and when I leave," she teased, though her usually chirpy tone had been replaced by a more tired, almost somber one.