DEVIANT HEARTS| HEESEUNG

1-sociopath

Athena's pov

Crime and punishment; I always had something for this book, my mother's book. something that I couldn't face or describe. I clutched the book between my fingers, the papers looked worked up and tired from how much I read the book. The weight of the book nestled between my fingers, its spine showing signs of wear and tear from countless readings. Despite its formidable size, a sprawling four hundred pages, it was big, to be honest.

There was no escape from a single page of my annotations and the mother's.

my mother, Alice Wood. my talent had garnered recognition and admiration, as I carved my path as a celebrated writer before Alice made a life-altering decision that left the literary world to focus on my family, it was the time when I was pregnant with Atena.

That's what my father told me. My father has described that my mother was always holding that book as if she was reading it for the first time, despite my being a writer, that book was my inspiration.

my final book was sad fiction that found its way into the hands of readers worldwide, while I, burdened by unforeseen and tragic events, was unable to complete reading it.

I was not afraid of the tragic events, but I didn't dare to read something from my mother. Countless of my clients had entrusted me with their deepest fears, desires, and traumas, finding solace and healing in my empathetic presence. Yet, when faced with the prospect of the events of my mother's book, I couldn't do it.

The thought of immersing herself in Alice's writing, of journeying through the recesses of my mother's mind, proved to be a challenge that I could not readily overcome.

I dreamed of the day when I could fully embrace my mother's writing, celebrate the profound legacy Alice had left behind, and find solace in the shared bond that transcended both time and literature.

My eyes watched and analyzed the words in front of me as if I was reading the book for the first time in my life, I loved how Fyodor worked out the finer details of committing a grisly axe -Fuck, and villainous characters playing the devils on Raskolnikov's shoulders? It was my favorite.

As I sat in my office, gray and white. My walls had a collection of academic textbooks, research papers, and captivating case studies and it had luxurious cushions, inviting anyone to sink into its embrace- one of the goals of being a psychotherapist, making patients comfortable. And here I sat, being the protagonist of this haven, fully engrossed in my reading. my eyes danced across the pages, absorbing knowledge with each passing word.

However, the serenity of my scholarly sanctuary was abruptly shattered when the door swung open, breaking the tranquility that enveloped my room. The unexpected intrusion jolted me out of my focused state, and I turned my head towards the disturbance.

"Athena," Martin's voice resonated with warmth and familiarity as he stepped into the room, his presence instantly brightening my surroundings. My old favorite man is here.

My woody eyes, reminiscent of ancient wisdom, lit up with delight at the sight of my mentor and second fatmy figure. The book I had been engrossed in was momentarily forgotten as I lifted my gaze to meet his.

"Dr. Martin," I greeted him, my voice carrying a blend of respect and affection. In that moment, the connection between them was palpable, transcending the boundaries of a typical teacher-student relationship.

Martin Lorenz, a man in his forties, possessed a distinguished aura, with strands of gray hair falling gracefully across his forehead. His age was etched upon his face, a testament to the years spent immersed in his studies and research. Yet, despite the marks of time, his passion and dedication remained undiminished.