Silent Laughter (Louis Tomlinson Fan-Fic) Book 3

Part five

Louis' POV

When I close the door behind me, a wisp of smoke releases from my lips as I pull out the stress relieving stick. The therapist guy sighs before sitting himself down in the big black swivel chair behind his desk, moving the wooden block that has his name engraved on the gold plate that's glued upon it.

He motions me to the chair in front of him, but I just take another blow before leaning myself against one of the walls, my right hand in my pocket.

He sighs again.

"Smoking isn't allowed here Mr. Tomlinson. I'm going to have to ask you to get rid of it before we start today's session." He speaks, sweat almost glistening on his forehead, the stains under his pits beginning to even grow.

I make him stressed.

Good. That fuck deserves it.

I raise an eyebrow before walking up to his desk, his eyes locked on me in an oh shit way.

I place the soggy cigarette back in my mouth, inhaling and exhaling, making sure the tobacco scented smoke hits his face.

He sighs for the millionth time, his hands now holding each other and his eyes closing from frustration.

"Look Mr. Tomlinson." He begins, his eyes opening.

"I know you don't want to be here and are doing this to try to aggravate me and get your point, whatever that point is, across. But my next patient has very bad asthma and it's not good for him to be breathing in any kind of vapor or gas. Especially smoke." He adds, my body now straightly aligned as I stare down at him, the cigarette resting between my fingers.

"If he has asthma, than he must have a fucking inhaler. Besides, I think the smoke will fade away by then, unless he's a fucking pussy and complains about it." I comment, my eyes darting down to the cigarette briefly before looking back at him.

Why should I give a shit about some bugger I don't know anyway.

He sighs yet again.

I roll my eyes.

"If you stop fucking sighing, I'll kill it." I say, his face expressionless.

"You should do it because it's the right thing to do, not out of annoyance." He responds, causing me to force out a chuckle before placing the cigarette back in my mouth.

"You don't know me." I say, the room getting a little fady again.

He has no right to fucking judge me.

No right.

"I'm not saying I do. All I'm trying to do is be polite and give you a choice of doing the right thing so I don't have to act."

"Act?"

I still try to keep my stance, not wanting to seem like a little bitch or anything.

He nods.

"Act as in notify certain people about your actions, maybe even leading to more meetings with me."

My free hand clenches into a fist as I walk closer to him, my thighs touching the black painted wood of his desk.

This guys has a fucking thing for black decor.

"You wouldn't dare." I say through gritted teeth.

He doesn't look slightly intimidated or affected, pissing me the bloody off.

"I wouldn't want to, but if worse comes to worse, that's what will have to happen. So make a decision."

My hand just closes tighter, my fingernails beginning to dig into my skin.