Off Record [Ereri/Riren] ✓

15 ⚕︎Empathy ✍︎

Off Record
Chapter 15
⚕︎Empathy ✍︎
Levi

em·pa·thy

/ˈempəTHē/

noun

the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.

Insomnia.

Having insomnia is similar to a television at full blast always being on. My mind never shuts up and when it doesn't shut up, it thinks. Sometimes it's a good thing, sometimes it's a bad thing, but most of the time, it stays in the gray. Insomnia is part of the reason why I'm staring at my psychiatrist, talking, but not really listening for once.

If you see a psychiatrist, chances are that your psychiatrist is seeing one too. It's because it takes a fucked up person to empathize with another fucked up person. We're being paid to be the scum of the Earth.

My psychiatrist isn't exactly professional. She has me call her by her first name, she always seems to unbutton her shirt just enough to expose the goods before I arrive, and I'm ninety-two percent sure that she's wearing a skirt with just sheer black tights underneath.

I check while she flips through her book.

One hundred percent sure.

"Dr. Ackerman..."

I don't let Vanessa call me by my first name.

"Dr. Ackerman," I finally pay attention to her, "how did you sleep last night?"

"I slept for thirty minutes last night," I reply.

"And why is that?"

I don't know why, but I hate when people start a sentence with a preposition. I've probably done it myself, but I still hate it. I answer anyways. "I just couldn't. I thought instead."

"And what were you thinking about?"

Offense number two.

"How it feels to have sex with your psychiatrist."

My psychiatrist isn't a professional. She has a rape kink.

She isn't wearing underwear.

Easy access.

"D-Dr. Ackerman!" She's touching all over herself as I eat her out, stimulating herself like a goddamn pornstar. She wants me to rape her. I tell her not today.

How does it feel to eat out your patient?

She's using her fingers to spread herself apart. She wasn't wearing any underwear. She's waxed clean. She tells me she's infertile.

I'm wearing a condom anyway.

She's fingering her ass as I pound into her. She's being fucked by her patient. I am her patient. Her tits keep bouncing as I repeat my motions. Double D cup she says.

I don't give a shit.

Vanessa is begging for me. She wants me to rape her. I'm fucking her on the desk.

The wall.

The couch.

The chair.

The floor.

Why doesn't Eren's room have furniture to fuck on?

My psychiatrist isn't a professional.

Her tit is in my mouth. I don't know why her tit is in my mouth. I just want to know how it feels to be fucked by my psychiatrist, but it's not working that way. She's being fucked by her patient. I wonder how it would feel to be fucked by my patient.

Why wasn't she wearing any underwear?

-

"Here." I throw a chocolate bar at the brat.

He catches it and rips it open, moaning when he tastes the delicious treat. "Thanks."

"You're welcome..." I watch him eat as I think. "I'm going to do the word game again. I'm going to say a word and you're going to say the first word that pops into your head."

"Okay."

I open my mouth to start. "Happy."

"I didn't think of anything..." Eren sighs. "That makes me feel weird."

"Safe..."

Eren shakes his head. "I don't, sorry."

I take more notes. "Ryder."

"Kind."

I smile. "Lynne."

"Tough."

"Me."

Eren takes a deep breath. "Complicated."

"How so?" I give up the game, Eren not seeming to actually connect with anything.

"My brain keeps trying to put you in a box of good for me or bad for me and it can't and that a lot to deal with. Then there's, well you know. It's just, you confuse me." Eren explains.

"Do you want me to be good or bad?"

I need a drink.

"Well, I know logically that people can't be put into boxes like that, we're too complicated. But there's this illogical part of me that refuses to understand that. If I had to choose... then bad. I don't trust good people, they're liars."

"What constitutes as 'bad?'"

"I don't know, like the way you treat me when I do shit you aren't happy with. I understood your role as an enemy then. Now it's all muddy." Eren's clearly having trouble putting his feelings into words.

"If I always treat you like that, I won't have sex with you." I look Eren in the eyes. "If you see me as your enemy, will I ever be able to help you heal?"

Eren shakes his head. "No, and I didn't mean for you to do that. I'm just explaining how it works in my head."

"Why do you want this?" I ask, genuinely curious. "I don't see the lore."

"What do you mean?"

"I fucked my psychiatrist."

Eren looks confused. "Okay...? Why?"

"To better understand you."

"I'm not interested in you because you're my doctor. I'm just interested in the person you. Your dick, specifically." Eren blushes. "Your presence kind of takes me over."

"What?" I'm trying to be an active listener, but he's getting harder and harder to follow.

Eren puts his head in his hands. "I don't know. You're just naturally... dominant and something inside me likes that."

I start to understand. "Do you like not being in control? Feeling... separated from your life?"

Eren nods. "Yeah."

I close my eyes. "Do you want to watch something?"

"What?" Eren asks curiously.

"A movie or a documentary about the ocean. Which do you want to watch? I have time before I'm to leave."

Eren smiles. "Yeah, okay. A documentary would be cool."

I nod and pull one up on the computer and sit down on the ground, waiting to press play.

Eren scoots over to sit next to me.

I press play and just zone out, calculating. Eren seems immersed, and maybe I do too. I don't know. I just don't know.

_____________________________
Author's Note:

Thoughts?

-Ari