My Hot Roommates [mxm+]

ʚ part 2: chapter 3 ɞ

Nathan's POV

"I think...I'm open to seeing a therapist," I confess to the nurse as she does her usual tests on me. She puts a bandaid on my finger then begins to clean up. I almost get mad at the fact that she doesn't acknowledge my presence.

"Not that I have anything against the therapists this hospital recommends, but I personally would recommend you my own therapist. I've been to quite a few different ones so I know what they're like. Besides, you know, you're not just a depressed adult or whatever. You like...actually tried killing yourself. It takes a good therapist to help with coming back from that," she says.

I slightly grimace when she doesn't sugar coat things.

I actually did that.

I tried to take my life away.

It wasn't just a thought or urge anymore -

I acted upon it. There was no knowing I wouldn't do it again.

I purse my lips. "I, um, I want to get better," I confess, expecting a big reaction although I don't know why.

She doesn't really give me a big reaction though. She threw away the needle she poked me with then turned to me with a smile.

"Now it's actually time for the hard part - the journey, huh?"

✩« ♔ »✩

A week later, I find myself in the clinic Merci recommended to me. It took a while to convince Michael to let me go alone. Apparently now was the time where he started caring about me. It was a little too late for that, though.

Despite trying to walk multiple times a day for the past seven days, walking still hurts a lot. Definitely less than when I first tried walking on my own, but the pain was almost unbearable sometimes. I hated it so much.

The little grimace I did whenever I took a step was like a punch in the stomach. The main literally was a punch in the stomach, too.

And so was looking in the mirror, looking at myself, being around people, being stared at.

I hated it all.

It frustrated me how before, I never cared for these things. I never cared about how I looked or other people's opinions. I was in my own little bubble.

Now that bubble was filled with shame and self-consciousness.

Everytime I had to be in the same room with someone, it felt like they were judging me. Like they knew what I went through and it wasn't enough. Like I was wasting my twenties on something so stupid.

Anxiety.

That's what Merci said it was.

But how could anxiety be so...deep? How could it come from a harmless action--

Okay. Maybe it wasn't harmless. But I've had issues with my self-esteem. None of that stuff.

I took a deep breath in.

This was the clinic of magic. The Clinic of Answers.

"Are you checking in?" a rather young looking guy asks. I nod my head and walk over to him.

"Name?"

"Nathan. Sato."

"Alright...Appointment for 1:30, is that correct?" he asks.

I nod once again.

He turns in his spinny chair to get some papers. After putting them on a clipboard and getting a pen, he hands them over to me. "Fill this out while you wait. You'll be called up once Doctor Rorden is available."