moral orel | clay x reader

just a little free time

You unlocked the front door to your house, stepping in and shutting it behind you. You locked it, walking to your bedroom and sitting down at your desk.

You powered on your laptop, and browsed the internet for a while. You also touched up on some of your therapy techniques and exercises that you've learnt over the years.

With a town basically stuck in the 50's and 60's, there was a lot of mental illness to expect. You especially thought that there'd be a significant amount of wife abusers, given that was one of the cliché's for the era.

The one drunk in the bar was also one you expected to see sooner or later. Hopefully sober.

You were kinda anxious for your job tomorrow, too. You were hoping it'd go well.

Maybe everyone was just as nice as Dolly, sober of course. That'd be great.

You couldn't help but think about that guy that insulted you, and everybody else in the bar. He probably had a lot to unpack, huh?

He probably wouldn't show up to your clinic willingly, though. You could already kinda tell he probably had too much of an ego.

You checked the email one last time, remembering the address by heart by now. The photo of it kind of looked cute, it was a decent building.

You looked at the time, 2pm. You spent about two hours on the internet already, mostly stalking your Patter feed.

You shut the laptop, closing the lid and standing up. You figured some lunch wouldn't hurt, right?

But instead of eating food at your house, why not try to find a diner in town? You grinned, surely that was a good idea.

You walked past the kitchen and to the front door, opening it and locking it behind you. You walked out to your car, unlocking, getting in, locking.

You drove in town slowly but still somewhat fast, because you knew people driving slow were actually kind of creepy. But you didn't want to come off as so, so you still kept driving quickly.

The radio was obsessively full of religious shit, some of it was actually kind of catchy, so you just let it play. There was only like one radio station anyway for the entire town.

Eventually, you saw an old, fancy diner called "All You Can Eatery" and parked right beside it. You turned the radio off, turning the car off, and got out.

You made sure to lock your car before heading inside. You sat down at a booth, waiting for service.

Not long into the wait, a waitress came over to assist you. "Hello, welcome to the All You Can Eatery!" She said warmly, setting down a menu.

"Our specials are the Grand Punchwich, and the Big Whopper," She spoke, but you figured nobody ever really listened to the specials. "What would you like to drink?" She asked after you had a moment to browse.

"Just, uh, a coke please," You said, searching further for your entrée. She hummed in response and bounced off to serve others.

There was some good stuff on here, other than a few things to your distaste and the simple American heart attack meals. Of course, for a diner in a town stuck in the 50s-60s, it's gotta have that old, murderous food.

You just figured you'd get something that's usually lunch, like a sandwich or a tame burger. You figured a Jesus Burger would be good, the description especially tastier than the name.

Not like you actually cared for the religious aspect of the town. No, you were just a humble therapist.

Hopefully you weren't going to be overworked as seemingly the only. You doubted any other therapists wanted to take the job.

The waitress came back over, handing you your drink with the classic straw. "So, are you ready to order?" She asked, readying her notepad and pencil.

"Yes, I'd like the Jesus Burger," You replied, trying not to cringe at the name. "Mhm! Anything else?"

You shook your head, and she left again. So you were there, just sipping your drink in boredom.

Nowhere to go, nobody to talk to. You couldn't pull your phone out because all the locals stared at you anyway.

Thankfully, somebody slid into your booth. "Hey, you new around here?" They asked.

You nodded, looking up at them. It was a small child with a round head, brown hair quite like that drunk from earlier, and a nice little button up shirt.

"Golly, that's okay! I could show you around?" He offered, and you smiled in response.

"Sure, what's your name? I'm Y/N," You answered, delighted in the presence of the cute little kid.

"I'm Orel, nice to meet you Y/N!" He greeted in that goofy little voice of his, and you couldn't help but wonder what sicko named him. "Nice to meet you too, Orel," You faked a smile, it just felt wrong to name a kid that.

Wasn't this town super religious? What were they doing, naming a kid that?

"So, uh, where are your parents?" You asked instinctively, just being cautious. "Oh, my mom's back at home with my brothers."

You raised an eyebrow, "What about your dad?" The kid froze for a moment.

"He... uh, he took the house, so I'm not really sure," Orel answered, a little grim. "What?-"

You were cut off by the waitress coming over and setting the burger down. You gave her a small thank you, and she left.

"My parents divorced, my mom got us and my dad was ordered to get therapy but he doesn't want to," He explained, and you were uncomfortable at the thought of meeting this kid's dad at work. "Oh, I'm a therapist," You brought up.

Orel's eyes seemed to light up. "You mean you're gonna fix my dad?!" He asked excitedly, and you chuckled in response.

"Not necessarily. Well, not unless he shows up for it," You shrugged. "I hope you'll see him, I'll even try to convince him!"