Her Therapist

Chapter 1.

SEBASTIAN

"Okay, then we see each other next", I glance at my schedule, "Wednesday. At the same time. Is that okay with you?"

The woman with ginger hair and red lips nods, curling them into a kind smile. I return the one, noting something in my notebook, as she greets me and leaves the office.

"Thank you, dr. Tomlinson. We see each other next Wednesday then."

"Have a great time on the date, Wendy. And remember no one can force you to do anything if you aren't willing to."

She smiles one last time, bowing her head, blushing, and leaves through the door.

"Goodbye, dr. Tomlinson."

I wave at her, biting my lip not to correct her for the millionth time to not call me doctor Tomlinson, but just Sebastian, yet she doesn't, still calling me not only by my last name but adding the title I have been known as since a year ago when I started working at the hospital officially, after early graduation.

I'm among a very small amount of people who graduated in medicine before others, and specialized in it, while the others were still studying it, torturing to finish it since a call for being a doctor is a very hard one, and requires so much dedication. I basically gave up on a lot of things so I can be where I am today. But, I didn't really have that many things to give up on.

The only thing I had was my brain. Since I knew for myself I was good at studying, memorizing and I enjoy learning new things. I mean, that was the only thing I could do in the shelter where I had been growing up.

"Hey, have you finished?" The voice of my best friend Conor snaps me from my thoughts and I look at him, seeing him peeking through the door.

"Yes." I gesture for him to get in, as I roll the sleeves of my coat, while his are already rolled, revealing the tattoos on his arms and forearms.

He drops himself into the chair where my previous patient was sitting, the woman who is kind, but extra shy, since she was in an abusive relationship and now she is scared to do anything, afraid that she won't be enough. Her best friend barely pulled her out of the arms of her boyfriend, and who doesn't deserve to be called like that, and struggled to explain to her that she was just a subject of manipulation, and forced her to go to therapy.

Today, she is going on her first date after six months of doing therapy with me, and eight months after breaking up with her boyfriend.

"So, how's Wendy?" Conor asks, leaning in the armchair, brushing his neatly cut beard with his index finger.

"Oh, no", I scoff, raising my hands in the air, "you're not gonna sleep with her."

Conor scowls, knitting his brows, "Who said that I wanted to sleep with her?"

"As if I don't know you and your intentions."

Conor Henderson. A son of the rich doctor Marshall Henderson who once was a headmaster of the hospital we are currently working in. Now he's in his late seventies and retired, while his son is taking his place. Though, I'm not kinda sure if dr. Marshall meant partying every night, sleeping with another woman each night, being a basic womanizer, and harmlessly drinking time after time as taking his place, and inheriting the family business, but hey, I'm not here to judge.

Conor has been my best friend since college, where we first met, and even if at the time I thought that he was only a spoiled daddy's son who had all, but he wasn't. Well, he was, he had it all, unlike me who worked, sweated so hard for even piece of bread, but somehow we connected, you know how they say, opposite attracts. And Conor and I, we worked as a duo, and later we even started living together, which helped me a lot since I was barely paying all the bills of my tiny apartment that I was having near the campus. Working double shifts, studying all the time, and trying to make my curriculum the best version possible, was hard, but I had Conor who helped me multiply times with either paying or something else. I owe him so much, his dad as well, but unlike him, I studied everything on my own and earned the position I have today. For him, I can't say the same. The rest you can figure out yourself.

"Well, I can't say, that she didn't catch my ey..."

"Enough, Conor", I cut him off, sternly. "She's not the one with whom you can mess like that. She... ", I sigh, I never speak with him about my patients, intending to keep all of their secrets with me, as every doctor who did the Hippocratic oath should do, be his my best friend or not. "... isn't what you're looking for."

"And how do you know what I'm looking for?", he adds, chuckling and raising his left eyebrow.

"A pretty woman who will beg you to sleep with her after a few drinks she lets you buy her, and then you will leave her in the morning after a night of good sex."

"You know me", he chuckles, again, lifting his finger in the air and pointing it at me.

I sigh, again, feeling slightly tired, "Yeah, I do."

"So, what's up with you?" I frown, not understanding what he means. So, he explains, "You act weird, and I don't know. Something's up." He waves his head in the air.

"Just tired, Con, nothing else. I had a roug... Not rough as you think", I add, as soon as I see a smirk forming on his face.

I just spent the whole night thinking about something that I never found out, and I crave to. It's my need. Anyone human's need actually. But, I already gave up. Until this day I haven't found out anything about it, so I made peace with that. It's just that sometimes I feel kinda nostalgic, but as a therapist, I try to calm down and focus on my patients who need help, more than I do.

"Okay", he drags the letter a, getting up slowly, "if you say so. But", he turns to me abruptly, pointing the index finger at me, rigidly, "you know I'm here if you need something."

"I know, Con, I know." I nod at him, getting up, as well. I need to go to an animal shelter as I do every Wednesday.

"But, here Jack can help, too."

I scowl, glancing at him, while I take off the coat and hang it. "Jack? Who's Jack?"

"Jack is one famous alcoholic beverage."

I roll my eyes, sighing as a snort escapes my mouth. I never believed that Conor was an alcoholic or a basic womanizer, I just believed that he was the rebellious type of young man who was secretly searching for unconditional love. Amor vincit omnit at the end of the day.
(Love conquers all)

"Okay, now...."

The door opening cuts me off and both Conor's and my head snap to the nurse who is peeking through the door, panting and I frown, not understanding what is going on.

"Sebastian, we need you, here immediately!"

"What..." Conor turns to me, and I let go of my jacket and grab the coat I hung, storming out of the small office, but I'm happy that I have it because I didn't want to work anywhere private since I wanted to be available to the people who may not have enough money to reach out for this kind of help.

Conor on the other side is here because it's where his dad worked, and was the main one, even though he hadn't been working as a psychiatrist, but as a neurologist before he became a headmaster.

The hospital isn't a big one, but it certainly is an important one, since all the best doctors in the town work here. And it is a basic hospital, like an urgent one, but it also has a couple of doctors like Conor and me, a psychiatrist department which offices are upstairs.

"Sebastian!"

"I'm coming!", I shout at the nurse, pulling the coat that got stuck on the door knob, struggling to unstuck it, but Connor does, and we literally fly to the place where the screams can be heard.

A/N

Here's the first chapter. I'm not really satisfied, and it's not really edited, but if there are any mistakes point at them since my first language isn't English.

What do you think of Sebastian?

Who do you think screamed at the end of the chapter?