How Is It? Tourettes?

seven

"Right then. Lets-"
"Screw an orange to the gate."
"-get your hand cleaned up." Howie finished before letting out a soft chuckle, Robert chuckling gently into himself.
"Yep. Get it off of my tongue."
"Might have bother if it's on your tongue too busy." Howie joked, Robert chuckling as he stepped out of the car, shutting it softly behind him. Howie fumbled with the door handle for a brief moment before getting it to open, slipping out of the car and racing up after Robert. He slowed and started walking beside Robert before quickening his pace again to get to the door first. With a massive smile on his face, Howie opened the door, gesturing outwards.
"Welcome home Sir Robert Harrison." Howie beamed.
Robert laughed lightly, shaking his head slightly.
"You're so peculiar dad. I love it." Robert said once he'd managed to get his breath back, walking past his dad. Howie nodded, walking in after his son. The door softly closed, Howie's hand fell gently from the handle, falling neatly to his side.
"Ok. So. To the bathroom dear son of mine," Howie beamed at his son before turning and making his way to the bathroom, Robert following dutifully behind.
"Of course father dearest," Robert chuckled, his father always seeming to find ways to make him smile, make him laugh on rough days. And it made him worry. Worry that he wasn't going to be there to help his father, make his father laugh, smile, feel better.

20 minutes later, Robert's hands were cleaned of dried and fresh blood and bandages had been applied to keep cotton gauze in place, ready to soak up any fresh blood from the open wounds.
"There we go. All wrapped up and -"
"Ready to leave."
"- ready to go. So we don't really have anything else set for the day, so. Anything in particular you're thinking of doing kiddo?" Howie asked, sliding into one of the chairs in the kitchen. He leant over and grabbed an orange from the large fruit bowl in the centre of the small, circular table. He gently squeezing it, turning it over and over in his hands before moving to peeling it. Robert leant over and tapped it, softly knocking it from Howie's hand, watching as it hit the wooden surface and rolled slightly before Howie's hand came down onto it, scooping it gently up into his hand again and resuming his peeling. This time he was able to actually start, working his thumb into the top, creating a hole. From there, the skin began peeling as Howie moved his hands over it, placing orange peel beside him on the table as it came off the orange, piece by piece. The smell of oranges began to fill the air. Robert moved to a second chair, reaching and picking a kiwi, gently squeezing it, making sure it was soft before moving it to his mouth, eating it with subtle care.
"I don't know dad. I was thinking we could take a look at the local bookshop, see what they have in stock before heading over to the clinic properly. You know, get some proper father-son bonding time in." Robert offered between mouthfuls of kiwi. It wasn't a particularly big kiwi, so it didn't last very long. Howie smiled, nodding. He had the orange in individual segments on the table in front of him now, taking great care to take his time with it, savouring each segment.
"Yeah. That sounds like a fantastic plan. Let's make an afternoon of it. Since we'll be out anyway, fancy anything in particular for dinner?" Howie asked, fiddling with an orange segment gently. Robert smiled softly inwards and nodded.
"I'd love that dad." He grinned. "It would be absolutely perfect."