"Dan," Molly smiles at him earnestly, "how was your weekend? And your Monday?"
Mondays were possibly one of the biggest of Dan's genuine weaknesses. As childish as it may have sounded, he dreaded school, although nothing bad happened to him there. More specifically - and on the less immature side of it - he dreaded the feeling of waking up. Existing. Everything. The stresses of school seemed to make these feelings hit him harder, for an unknown reason. But that was part of the reason for his presence in that room, so he didn't go on about it yet again.
"Um, the same as usual, really. Spoke to an old friend on the phone. Slept a lot. Ate one too many sandwiches," his baritone, slightly croaky voice mumbled. He didn't share with Molly the friendly attempt at a giggle she gave.
"Well, I can't blame you for that. Were they chicken sandwiches at least?"
"Yeah, actually," he replied, forcing a lopsided smile, to not offend the woman.
"See, Dan, we do kind of know each other," her eyes cast themselves straight upon his, presenting a look of utter kindness. As depressed, grumpy and reserved as he felt, he had to be somewhat nicer to Molly than he was to others; he was obliged to treat her a bit better.
"We do, we do."
"Okay. But how have you been feeling? Emotionally?" Molly continues, concerned.
"I hate to break the mood, but still the same as a year ago. Hopeless. Like everything I try to do is going to come back and slap me in the face, and everyone I love will eventually run away. When I was on the phone to that old friend, for example, I asked her if she'd like to meet again sometime. She stuttered, stammered, said she'd see, and then quickly moved on topic. She seemed like she didn't want to. Does everyone have something against me...?" Dan ran one of his large hands through his hair in anguish, slightly gripping and pulling at a few of the long, dark brown strands, originally pulled up into a quiff.
"No, Dan, very few people do, in fact. How do you know she wasn't nervous? You're old friends: she may be a little insecure of herself. Maybe she was excited? You can't tell, Dan," Molly soothingly tried to reason with the boy.
Dan groaned, and pulled his knees up to his chest on the seat, enveloping his lower body in his arms. This was going to be a long session.
YOU ARE READING
Therapy - A Bastille AU
Fanfiction"Give me therapy; I'm a walking travesty..." Daniel Campbell Smith, admitted to Pine Walk Hospital, for suicide attempts. Jasmine Walker, admitted to the same institute, for anorexia. They tell you feelings for someone can bloom in the most myster...
