trauma bonding ~ dustbunny

four

"How was your morning?" Other than crying in the shower while ripping my hair out, "It was okay." The sound of him pouring the coffee into the mug calmed my slightly. It reminded me why I started working in the cafe to begin with. "I spoke to Inko yesterday. She said she saw you yesterday." Fuck. I tense at the mention of what took place yesterday. I scratch at my wrist gently enough so he won't call me out. I can't help it, thinking about that woman just scares the fuck out of me. How many people was I making uncomfortable with my presence alone?

"She said you didn't come in." He sets the mug on the coffee table a pours in the cream in front of me. I take a deep, hold it for three seconds, then exhale. "I just decided against it," I mumble. Which was true. When she yelled at me I left and cried in the elevator. And I deiced not to go. "I believe the group would do a lot of good for you. That way you can talk with people who have similar experiences and are around your age." I grip the sleeve of my hoodie. "Can I say something unbelievably stupid?" Dr. Aizawa sits across from me. "There's not such thing."

"There are no men."

He tilts his head in confusion. "What do you mean?" I sigh. "I mean there are no men. There are only women in the group, do you have any idea how that looks?" Not the victim. I don't look like the victim. And I don't want to but I don't want to be automatically seen as....a monster. "It was stupid to begin with," I mutter. "I don't even know why I need it? I'm doing fine." The words felt sour leaving my tongue. I knew it wasn't true; the coffee machine brewing too loudly causes me to flinch, over lapping voices give me a migraine. I know I'm not getting better but I'm fucking trying and rather or not I can talk about pass relationship issues in a room full of females shouldn't dictate my progress. That's not fair. 

"What if you brought someone with you?" Dr. Aizawa suggest. "What?" He motions to the mug which I grab with both my hands, warming my palms. "You should invite one of your friends. Dabi, maybe?" I scoff. "Dabi? I'll never be that desperate," I mumble before taking a sip. "Besides, the group is for victims of domestic relationships."

"Dabi looks like he's victim of an arson attack. Or several."

"Humor is not your strong suit."

"You're smiling."

"No I'm not."