Be My Friend

Chapter 18: Appetite for Destruction

"Well... Um... It's nice to finally meet someone that's close to you, Mason." The Dr stammers like a fish outta the water. I can tell he was trying to compose himself; I hoped he didn't think that the tremor in his hands didn't go unnoticed. This might've been the first time I've seen him lose his composure, minus all the demeaning things he's said to me in the past. I mentally scoff, so professional.

"Yep. This is my imaginary friend: Damian." I say sarcastically. My therapist grips his pencil tighter in his hand and gives me a covered up icy glare. I glance up at Damian, who was squished beside me on the small couch in the room, and I am rather surprised to see narrowed eye-brows instead of the nonchalant facade he usually carries. A sudden itch comes over me wanting to punch someone in the neck. I tear my eyes away from his threatening gaze and focus on my therapist. I can't help but let a grin slip onto my face.

•

The session goes by pleasantly quickly for me but probably felt like years for Damian. He didn't mutter a single word during the entire thing but a small glance at his brooding face was all the context I needed. As soon as we step out the door I can't help but notice the tension on his wide shoulders immediately lessens.

We make our way down the hallway, however, it's hard to keep up at the sudden pace when he's taking longer strides than usual.

"Can you slow down a bit? Some of us don't have legs up to our necks." I bite in a sarcastic tone. Despite how good the view was from a few feet back I really didn't feel like throwing up just from a little walking. I was so out of shape.

"I take it you don't really like my therapist? Well, that makes two of us." I declare aloud in a satisfactory tone and watch as our walking falls back into synchronization.

"What gave it away?" He steals a quick glance in my direction and I can't help but laugh a little.

"Oh I don't know, other than everything, I'd say you were pretty chill," I smirk a little and nudge his side, which by the way was just rock solid flesh. I mean come on! Does the bench press a truck in his spare time? Ridiculous and totally unfair! He looks at me and tilts his head.

"What?" I demand and cross my arms over my chest as we walk out the front door into the heat.

"Nothing." He says and looks away but I can see a hint of a smile on his face and I decided right then and there I liked it. I liked it when he smiled, it means I said something right although I have no idea what I said to deserve it. 

Trying not to let this distract me, I shift the conversation. "Are you hungry? I can pick up something to cook at home if you want. Unless... That is if you don't eat. I haven't really figured you out just yet." I admit. I pull out my keys and unlock my car.

"I eat... Sometimes. Human food does nothing for me health-wise, but its taste is a privilege." He informs whilst squeezing into the front seat of my tiny car, but he doesn't complain about the tiny space. I feel really bad at how squished he looks but it's only a twenty-minute drive. 

"Great. We'll have spaghetti then." I declare as I pull out of the parking lot.