Michael slips out of his thoughts and watches as ashton parks the car in a empty parking lot and even wonders if this place is open. all he can feel is Luke's warm hand on his thigh, he's no nervous he could just puke, but he won't do that.
Michael feels his stomach churn as they enter the small building, but he likes it so far. it's warm, cozy, and smells of Christmas candles.
"Michael Clifford," Ashton tells the lady at the front desk, who just gives ashton a clipboard and a pen.
"he'll be able to go back soon."
Ashton nods and sits a little ways from luke and Michael, leaving them in their own while he fills out a couple of sheets.
"I'm nervous," Michael croaks out, his voice low and raspy.
"don't be Mikey, it seems really nice here," luke replied to Michael, intertwining their fingers, Michael felt fine with luke, but what would he do when he wasn't by his side?
Michael licks his lips and looks around the waiting room, seeing two older women and wonder why they're here. either waiting for someone, or waiting to talk to someone.
Michael's surprised when a little boy, at the age of five or a little older walks out with a younger lady, tears streaming down his face.
"I-I don't wanna go home," the little boy cries to an older women Michael's seen.
the women just picked the little boy up and wiped his tears, "we'll be okay," she says to his softly before leaving.
Michael always wondered the stories behind people, who knows why a little boy that young would be talking to a therapist?
Michael was snapped back into reality when he heard the lady who walked out with the younger boy call his name, a soft smile, and bright eyes.
"good luck," luke tells Michael before placing a soft kiss on his lips, ashton also saying good luck, with a thumbs up.
Michael follows the lady down a long narrow hallway, passing doors with names he couldn't pronounce. he didn't seem so nervous anymore when he reached his new therapists door, he thought he'd be very nervous.
"hello, Michael," the man said, "I'm Ben."
Michael smiled lightly and sat on a light brown couch, his usual seat would be a plastic chair, in a cold empty room. but this room and just like the rest of the place. cozy, warm, Christmas scented, he could get used to this. he wonders how ashton couldn't have found this place first.
"what brings you here?" Ben smiled at Michael.
Michael began playing with the hem on his sweater, some other thing he does when he's nervous, "um I'm depressed t-there's lots of things wrong with me."
"well I'll found those things later, right now I just want you to get comfortable and tell me about yourself," Ben replied to Michael.
"well, what do you want to know?"
"anything your comfortable telling me with, I just wanna know the simple things though," Ben told Michael, setting his notebook aside.
"my name is Michael Gordon Clifford, I was born on November 20th, I'm 17 years old, but you probably already know that. when I was 15, I was diagnosed with a disorder called PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). I love pizza, and watching movie cuddled into my blue blanket. I enjoy living with my best friend ashton, he's the only one that's been there for me through everything. he knows everything. there's nothing much to me really, all of me is in the past when I was happy, and didn't have a care in the world, when I was strong," Michael finished with a sigh, he didn't feel like talking anymore, it was making his breathing hard.
