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Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I force myself to at least try to make a conversation like a therapist would do. This is not the right time for me to be overthinking and shut down completely.
Noticing that the handcuffs around his wrists make it fairly difficult for him to shake my extended hand, I quickly pull it back.
"I—" I begin, still unable to continue speaking as he sits there in front of me, waiting for me to say something. "I'm sorry, that was quite silly of me." I manage to blurt out, referring to my extended hand. Not expecting him to reply to this, I look up to him once again while wiping my wet palms on my thighs.
"It's alright." He calmly says, not breaking the eye contact. I'm convinced this guy is always this intriguing. It might also just be me, still overwhelmed by all the sudden things he made me feel with a single look. "I'm pretty sure this is your first time talking to an inmate."
I nod as I try to desperately find a way to continue this conversation in a healthy pace. "I'll just start with introducing myself and my goal within this place." I start explaining, growing into it. "I'm Brooklyn. I'm a psychology student and I'll be spending a few months doing a work placement in this prison. I'll basically be some sort of a therapist, talking with inmates and trying to help everyone in here to be able to express themselves, be listened to and feel relevant."
"Why are you here, in this place full of danger disguised as human beings?" He asks straightforward, catching me off-guard. "I mean, you could've chosen something else. A high school or some other company. At least you wouldn't feel like some sort of prey in those places."
"I don't think anyone sees me as some sort of prey..." I reply as his gaze becomes more intense.
"You sound naïve Brooklyn. I wouldn't think of you as a naïve type of girl. "
"I'm not." I defend myself. "You don't know me, E—" I begin, remembering his initials on the cell door.
"Ethan." He completes, realizing I don't know his full name yet. "Ethan Dean Wilford."
"Well, Ethan, I know what I've chosen to do. I want to do this and prove to everyone that there's still hope in some cases."
He chuckles at this to my surprise, breaking the eye contact for the first time since he's walked into the room. "If you're here to find hope, you might be looking for a whole lot longer than a few months dear."
I ignore the tingles I feel running up my legs, all the way up to my cheeks as he ends his sentence with that one word.
Dear.
Snapping back to reality, this time I'm the one reconnecting the eye contact as I decide on confronting him on his cynical and pessimistic demeanor. "Are you always this negative?"
He leans forward, putting his combined hands beneath his chin as it seems like he's forcing me to stare through his vigorous, strong yet somehow fragile façade. "This isn't me being negative. This is me being realistic."
