Psychologist

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
He didn't wanted to come there, but in the end, he shares his shattered view on the world and manage to spark the attraction in this young psychologist

Submitted: January 22, 2017

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Submitted: January 22, 2017

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Here I was again, on the leather couch of my psychologist, wich I saw once a week. It was always on Tuesdays, 5PM. My father forced me to go there. He said that it was the only way to avoid getting kicked out of the school. I had anger issues. A month ago, I struck my classmate across his nose and broke it. It’s hard to call that a problem...It was a solution.

She was waiting for me, when I opened the door. Twenty year old brunette wearing a miniskirt and a tight shirt. She was very open, when we had our first appointment, she said she just finished college and I’m her first. It was one of the many of her double-twisted sentences she used to say. She tried to be funny, but deep down I knew, that she tries her best to hide the fact, she doesn’t know what to do.

„How are you doing?“ It was usually the first question that she asked.

„Today I played on piano and guitar.“

„Nice, but how are you doing?“

„As always... somewhat empty.“

„No feelings? Playing doesn’t help?“

„Yes it does...for a while... then it goes away.“

„Do you believe in love?“

„Love?“

„Yes, do you believe in it?“

„I do.“

„They say, it is the strongest emotion.“

„I don’t argue.“

She leaned in her chair, then put her pen near her mouth.

„Tell me, what do you think?“

„Well, I have a friend. She have a boyfrend. She can’t talk to other boys, because her boyfrend cries and is scared that she run away with someone else.“

„He’s in love, haven’t you been in love?“

„Once.“

„How did it went?“

„She ran away.“

„Did you...?“

„No.“

„Did you wanted to?“

„I wanted to punch a wall.“

„What stopped you?“

„It would hurt.“

„More than your feelings?“

I didn’t answered.

She was looking at me through her glasses with thick frame. It was that kind of stare, which you usually have, when you get the test you weren’t prepared for. She crossed her legs. For a brief moment I could see her panties. Pink. I was expecting something more proffesional.

„I saw where were you looking.“ She laughed, but she was covering her uneasines. She crossed her arms on her breasts and gave me a cold stare.

„You wear pretty playful colors, considering your job.“ I started.

„What do you mean?“

„Well, your clothes are determined by your job, so they must be proffesional, but those pieces that nobody sees are in playful, even childish colors.“

„Good observation.“

„Was it correct?“

„I keep that to myself.“

„You are mean.“

„Just proffesional.“

„You can be playful too.“ I looked at her.

„You have a lot of trust in panties.“ She laughed. Once again, she was relaxed and happy.

„They give a lot of space to imagination.“

„What are you imagining?“

„If they match with top.“

She blushed and looked away.

„Looks like our time is up.“ She said and the imaginary bubble popped.

I stood up and came to her. I was standing closer than I used to. I could see her quickened breath, her eyes moving all over my face.

„Next week. 5PM.“ She whispered and looked away again. I noded. Then I walked away.


© Copyright 2017 RichardZ. All rights reserved.

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