Jason King is perfect. Whether it's the British accent, his flawless fashion sense or having been able to pick up life again after having been through trauma as a result from his kidnapping, everyone agrees that this man is immaculate.
However, thin...
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DELILAH LORRAINE DIDN'T THINK JASON King was perfect, simply because she didn't believe in perfection.She did, however, find him very interesting. Maybe it was because of his background, or perhaps his story, or even his personality that made the whole situation more complicated. And Delilah liked complicated, so she always looked forward to the sessions she'd have with him.
And today was one of those days she'd share with him.
He was sitting opposite her, this time at a desk that gave him view of the exit and the only window in the room, so nothing would go unnoticed by Jason. Delilah saw why he'd chosen this spot but decided not to say anything about it. He still wasn't comfortable here, and she needed him to be. Asking questions wouldn't help with making him comfortable, so instead, she let Jason talk.
"I, I can't focus," he said after Delilah had asked him how he was doing. She always began her sessions the same way, and slowly she'd find something they could talk about. This time, it was easier than other times because Jason already introduced the topic himself. "I want to and I'm trying to, but the slightest thing or change will grab my attention and take it away from where it needs to be."
And there she had it, the problem she needed to solve today.
"Every time someone laces his shoe, I see it," he continued. "Every time a leaf whirls past, I notice. Every movement in the room, I'm aware of it. And I can't ignore it." His hand rose to touch his jaw, where his scar was. Delilah had seen him do this often.
A lack of concentration wasn't uncommon in cases of PTSD, she knew, but it was one of the harder things to solve, as it lay at the root of the problem. He was on guard, always, which meant that his focus was on multiple things at once. His PTSD caused him to be unable to pay attention to a single thing, and if she wanted to solve his issue with concentration, she needed to cure him of his disorder.
She could tell him this, of course, but it would be better if he discovered this himself. "Why do you think that is?"
"My inability to focus?"
Delilah nodded.
"I—I don't know."
But he did, so she kept silent until he continued talking.
"It's not just at work, although it's mostly when I'm there. When a lot is happening, I can't take my mind off that but have to know exactly what is happening."
He folded his hands together and looked down, something she'd seen him do before.
"My focus is on all things at the same time," he said then. "I'm observant—no, alert, that's the word." His fingertips explored the scar on his jaw some more.
"And?" Delilah prompted. The words were on his lips, waiting to be said, and she wanted to give him a last little push.
"I'm getting in my head," he said. "With all the things I'm focusing on. And at the same time..." He paused, looking to the side but at nothing in particular. "I'm trying to be normal. And it's really, really hard to be normal now."
