"How to save a life?"

Chapter 3 : "When will you speak?"

CHAPTER 3:

“-You’re beautiful.

“-I imagined so many things for your first sentence, but I never imagined this.”

The corners of his lips lifted up themselves very slightly, and I felt him relaxing. He continued to fix me, what made me blush. He finally uncrossed his arms, than his legs  to advance slightly by putting the elbows on the knees and the hands connected under his chin. He had the same position as me. Disturbed by his imitation, I recovered.

“And what do you find beautiful in me, monsieur Horan?”

He made me a small half-smile and I feel his look sounding me. His beautiful blue eyes feasted on every line of my face. I had the impression that he sounded me, that he printed every line of my face in his memory not to forget me. As if we’ll never see again and, as if he wanted my image in his head.

Me.

And no one else. Shit! Why me? I have nothing special, haven’t I? Brown hair, brown eyes like the half of the population on this planet, smile without particularities. So, I’m nothing. How can he find me beautiful? I have no forms, no particularities. I’m just a soul closed in the everyday life, a miss Everyone which is waiting for her life too have something special without making something for. A Miss Nothing, that nobody sees, nobody looks at in the street. Someone you see and you forget instantly.

Does he have strange tastes?

Yes, he has downright strange tastes because I am yucky, here we are, I said it.

But him, he’s perfect, gosh. Blond, even if you can see that it’s a coloring, frozen blue eyes. I’ve the impression that every look froze me, froze my soul. His arms hide by his long sleeves, leave me sees his musculature.

Yeah, he’s fucking hot. Ok, for speaking better, he’s wonderful. His cheeks, god, I want to pinch them and to play with. I want to pass my hand in his hair. Are they as soft as it looks?

HO! I’m just his psychologist. What's happend?

Toquements was rung, and I turned the head to the door. Audrey entered, and smiles to me.

“-Time for next client!”

I smile to her, and raised me. Niall raised too, and I offered him my hand in the hope which squeezes it to me. He brought out the hand of the pocket in which he had pushed it and shook hands with me, hesitating. Then he quickly went out, and I sighed a big blow. That is going to be hard.

He comes every day, even if he does not have to meet. He comes and waits in the waiting room. When he has to meet, he comes hours before his hour. But when it’s his turn, you can feel that he just wants to run away and never come back. Why are we always passing one hour closed in a room without sounds make? Is that a therapy? He establishes the confidence by the silence? I don’t like this idea, we don’t trust if we don’t know the person. How we can trust if we don’t even speak? Sometimes I have the impression that he’ll finally going to say something, even bullshit, I don't care, even "I like the chocolate ice cream" that would make for me cry with joy, but no, he closes the mouth and steeps itself in its dumbness, in its shell.I have the impression that he thinks of being an empty shell, wich he cannot fill. But all of this is bullshit, because I know perfectly well that if he speaks to me, if he finally opens, I am going to be able to help him, help him to find the resources in him which are going to help him to reconstruct little by little. I know nothing of him. I know what, his name, its age, its date of birth. Why is he here? It is in mode self-destruction, a grenade with an unknown discount, we hope for a bad functioning and what the discount stops, what the pomegranate(grenade) is transformed into medicine and looks everything on the passage, we hope, we hope, but we know perfectly well that that will never arrive. I am tired to hope. If Niall does not make effort, I cannot make anything. I am faced a wall every time, losing time that another patient can have. I’m tired of waiting for nothing! I’m not patient, he gives I give, and if it’s possible, quickly. So if he isn’t okay, he can go to another psychiatrist.

And he's going to stop annoying me with his bullshit.