Dr Hallet will have a field day when she hears about this.
Who would have thought that a woman with an intense hatred of men would be sat here, allowing one to fix the mess she's made of her head? Certainly not me. I would like to say that I'm hating every second of it. But that would be a lie. I'm not enjoying the event, by any means. But my heartbeat is significantly slower than it was earlier.
I don't know what he's doing to me, but I know he's fully concentrated on the task at hand. And from that, I have every reason to believe that he's not going to make me look like a clown. Is this trust? Is that what this feeling is called?
“Why are you doing this?” I barely hear myself saying it. I feel his hands stop briefly, before continuing their faffing.
“I want to help.” Simple. Not what I expected.
“Why?”
“Wouldn't be very good turning up to our session without my buddy, would it?” he chuckles. But the joke is lost on me. He must feel the frostiness emanating from me, because he clears his throat. “And anyway. Even if you weren't my buddy, I wouldn't let anyone hurt you.”
“Why?”
“Why would I?”
“You're a man.”
I can feel the coldness in my voice. The voice that I usually talk to him in coming out of my mouth before I can stop it. In any other situation, I'm pretty sure he would throw it back in my face. But today seems different. Instead of a snort of anger, I hear a snort of laughter.
“Not all men are bad,” he mumbles. “You've just seen the bad kind.” His hands falter again. “And you've got the worst one as your buddy.”
I don't answer. I just let him get back to what he was doing. I heard a twinge of sadness there. The same as I saw in his eyes. Wait a second. Men don't have feelings. Men don't have compassion. They're cold-hearted villains. Determined to break the souls of any woman that gets in their path.
So why is this one going against everything I know?
“What's your sister called?”
I shock myself at the question. What possessed me to ask him something so personal? Why am I attempting to get to know him?
“Sam. Short for Samantha. But don't let her hear you call her that. Your arse will be pulled out through your mouth.”
I find myself smiling slightly, amused by his feeble attempt of a joke. I'm getting more and more confused with my actions as time goes on.
“Are you two close?”
“Yeah. She's the best thing to ever happen to me. I mean, she's just a bubble of enthusiasm. You see her and you can't help but smile along too. Complete polar opposite of me. I'm just...I'm just a mess.”
“Is that why you're here?” He doesn't answer, so I quickly continue. “In the system, I mean. Trying to find another person that's as fucked up as you?”
I hear a growl rumble in his throat. It's a sound that makes me aware that I've pushed too far. I squeeze my eyes shut, praying that this whole thing won't backfire on me. His breathing is heavy on the back of my neck. Oh God, I've made him angry. He's going to hurt me. I wince, withdrawing into myself once again.
“This is what we're supposed to do, isn't it?” I hear him say roughly. “Become best buddies and spill out our hearts to one another? Deal with the shit that got us here in the first place? And maybe, just maybe, we'll get each other through this shit-hole we call life.” He sighs, a sound so heavy that I feel it pushing down against my mind. “Sorry, poppet. I'm not talking. I don't share my secrets. Not with you. Not with anyone. They're my burden.”
