FireFly

Chapter Eight

Doctor Heere was a qualified, professional, and genuinely nice guy that Cynthia had hired to fix her son.

'Fix her son' Connor thought with a shake of his head as he slumped into an uncomfortable wooden chair in the empty waiting room of the therapist's office.

Honestly, he didn't know why he was here. He wasn't going for himself, he didn't care about himself that much, and he most certainly wasn't going to please Cynthia. Or Larry.

It was Evan. A small, timid part of him that was buried under piles of darkness, wanted to get better. For Evan, so they could be happy. Together. That part was almost compared to a beam of light bursting through a thick, black sky.

It was like a firefly.

And so, he'd showed up at Doctor Here's office, somewhat late, clothes he'd slept in the night before disheveled and if he wasn't so goddamned numb he'd probably be embarrassed about the state he was in. However, he found himself too exhausted to care.

The waiting room was small, white walls, had a cork board with posters pinned, a pile of magazines that were dated a couple of years ago Connor noticed in a stack on a coffee table, wooden chairs paired with an unforgiving shade of green cushion that was really digging into his arse.

It was a standard waiting room, nothing to peak any passerby's interest, nothing really to look at, to fear. But something about it made Connor's skin itch and he was relieved when a figure appeared in the doorway of a joining room, probably his office.

Doctor Heere looked to be about a little younger than Larry. He was a large man with a bald head, checkered shirt, rosy cheeks and a kind face.

Connor felt like he was forced under a microscope and that this doctor was a scientist prepared to exam him.

"So," he began, taking a seat and Connor sitting down opposite him. "What's your name?"

Connor frowned, "You've got it written down right there." He gestured to a stack of papers in Doctor Here's lap.

"I'd rather get to know you through yourself rather than a piece of paper." He explained.

Connor nodded, that seemed fair enough. It was an odd subject, someone wanting to get to know him. He'd never known any adult who'd voluntarily spoken to him, besides a teacher, it was unfamiliar and... nice?

He's just saying that because he's getting paid, a voice in the back of his mind spoke, suddenly he remembered to keep his guard up and all traces of assuming this guy was 'nice' had disappeared as quickly as they had come.

"It's Connor. Murphy." He added shortly when Doctor Heere asked him to carry on.

"Well, Connor, is Connor okay with you?" Doctor Heere paused to ask, he shrugged and the older adult carried on, "My name's Paul which I prefer to 'Doctor' because my son has said that professional terms are stuffy and I happen to agree with him."

Connor exhaled through his nose, he couldn't bring himself to smile.

"How old are you, Connor?"

"Seventeen."

Paul hummed, "Still in school?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, "But it's... summer." He finished lamely.

"Got any siblings?"

"Sister."

"And what's her name?"

"Zoe."

"Do the two of you get along?"