Her Therapist

Chapter 7.

SEBASTIAN

Touch her. I can touch her now and she isn't going to scream at me. She isn't going to hiss those now famous words don't touch me. She isn't going to tell me that she hates me, but then why do on Earth I want her to wake up and tell me those three simple words? I made her asleep so what on Earth is going on?

I tug the strands that have escaped her messy ponytail behind her ear and brush her jawline. She frowns and I quickly move my hand, gasping and scared that she will wake up. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if an injection of tranquilizer wasn't enough to calm her down. I really wouldn't.

What do I do with her now? I can't take her to the ward.

And why can't you, Sebastian, my subconsciousness asks.

Well, I can't because my shift has just finished and because she doesn't want to be there, she clearly suffers from some kind of PTSD since every time she sees me or when a ward is mentioned she gets upset and begs not to be put there.

Then it hits me. Maybe someone had done something to her there, something bad that is why she is scared of being touched. Yeah, it must have been that.

No, I decide. No way I'm taking her back there again. She's coming with me. No one has to know. Neither Ethan nor Conor. Okay maybe Conor, but speaking of him he must be in some pub drinking, and currently I can't take care of him, too. He is old enough to take care of him and I know no matter what I say or do now he will drink because of her. Because of Wendy.

I'm not stupid, no, I'm professional enough to sense that she has awoken some feelings in him that he still hasn't acknowledged himself that he owns. He is sure that he doesn't catch feelings, especially during sex that should be the deepest relationship that connects people, but no, for him is different. He simply does not catch feelings. Ever.

So, if I'm not taking her to the hospital then where am I taking her? To my house? Really? Am I really going to do that?

I glance down at her, to see her fists clenched under her ears, and she has begun to shiver uncontrollably. Shit, Sebastian, until you decide where you are going to take her she will catch a cold, and then what you are going to do?

Now, when she's asleep and calmed down I can do what I wanted her to do when she was awake. I take off my coat and wrap her thin and half-naked body in it. There you go, Larsson.

I pick her up bridal style and surprise by how easy she feels to be carried. Like I'm carrying a feather and not a 20-year-old girl. Her head falls on my chest and I squeeze the grip under her thighs so she doesn't slip. Her legs are bare and freezing, too. I hope she gets warm once we arrive at my apartment. But, wait...

How are we going to arrive there? I'm not going to carry her like this to my house for everyone to see a passed out girl whose head now keeps falling and I have to lift her body so it comes back at my shoulder. I can also feel the goosebumps on her bare skin.

Shit, Sebastian, just carry her. Now!

I rush my step from the dark corner that stinks of garbage and I realize that I haven't noticed that until now. I was too busy thinking about Esther's breakdown. She hates herself, her words beat in my head so loudly that I have to shake it to get rid of them. I promise, as soon as I come home I'm gonna look into her.

As if the universe and planets united against me the raindrops start falling on my black hair and Larsson's face that is now on full display in the sky as if it was waiting for some natural chaos. I quickly cover it with the coat and make sure that she is protected from rain which soon, really soon turns into pouring and I curse loudly, starting to run through the deep puddles that make odd noise under my shoes.