therapy (scömìche au)

forty-seven

|| Friday ||

"Mitchell, I thought we discussed that you could call me Ashton." Mr Irwin says and Mitch furiously shakes his head.

"Don't c-call me tha-that." Mitch snaps and Mr Irwin runs his tongue along his teeth.

"Do not speak to me like that."

Mitch frantically glances around for his whiteboard. "B-board?"

"What? Oh, that tacky board? I threw it out," Mr Irwin smiles and Mitch's eyes widen. "You won't be needing it around me, right?"

"I need it!" Mitch shouts but the curly haired man grins.

"See? Improvements already! I swear," Mr Irwin says as he sits himself back down into the desk chair - Scott's desk chair. "That blonde guy doesn't know what he's doing."

Mitch stands up and slams a palm on the table. "You leave him out of this!"

"Please don't yell at me Mitchell." Mr Irwin ignores the brunette and begins to write something in his notepad. "You know what will happen if you do that."

Mitch hardens his glare at the man. "You need to leave."

Mr Irwin looks up at the boy, a curious look on his face. "And why is that, Mitchell?"

"I said, don't call me that!" Mitch shouts and Mr Irwin suddenly stands up, an angered look on his face.

"And I said, do not yell at me!" He screams and Mitch flinches. "Do you want me to punish you?"

"You can't d-do that to me any-anymore," Mitch stammers and he mentally curses himself. "You have n-no w-way."

"Are you sure about that?" Mr Irwin smiles sweetly but it makes Mitch want to throw up. "I still know where you live Mitch."

"Don't."

"You remember why I know, right?"

"Do not."

"Because, personally, I could never forget all the times we made love in that house."