#davis-sampson

Grace’s opinions towards her patients tended to vary from calm indifference to veiled hostility, but Grace had always liked Davis. At first, she just liked him the way she liked most broken, tortured things: as a specimen, almost, one that she could poke and prod and bend to her will. But Davis always had more backbone than that - he wore his failure like a badge of honor, let it feed him, bolster him, until he became a thing that pushed when she pulled, dug in when she prodded, bent when she wanted him to break. He became more than just specimen - another sad, sorry backstory of priviledged America - and became instead... heartbreakingly human. 

It was why she was so disappointed that their months of hard work and progress were so abruptly derailed when Davis received word that his child was all but lost to him. She couldn’t even say it was a set back, because he bore no resemblance to the sullen, agitated man who skipped more session than he made when they’d first started seeing each other. It was just... different. 

Davis showed up to every appointment on time, made polite conversation with April in Reception while he waited, and for all intents and purposes, he was a courteous, obedient patient - closed-off, sure, but always gave just enough to keep treatments going. But when Grace look into his eyes now, she saw no pain, no fight, nothing. It unnerved her more than anything else. 

They were twenty minutes into their session, and Davis was just looking numbly out the window. Grace had run out of things to say to try to coerce him into conversation, so had instead taken to clicking her pen insistently, hoping that maybe she could annoy him into action. Click click. Click click. Click click. 

Nothing. 

“Y’know my father was a grief counsellor. Back in Belfast,” she said, taking a chance with something personal. It felt dangerous, somehow, more so given the silence of the room. “I always swore I never wanted to be anything like him, and I suppose I’ve got reasons all my own why I went into psychology, but it seems sort of inescapable, doesn’t it? The irony’s not lost, at least...” 

Before he could get up, he saw her approaching their table and he grinned up at her as she stood there, giving his arm a suggestive squeeze. She asked how he was, and he asked how Tiger---her cat---was doing, and after the brief exchange of pleasantries, an idea sparked in his head. “Uh, Davis,” he began, a hand on the side of his friend’s arm. “This is Lydia. Lydia, this is my good friend Davis.” He nodded his head at the both of them, excited at the prospect of getting the two hit it off. “Lydia has a cat named Tiger, but he’s not really a Tiger, is he, Lydia?” He turned to the woman, who shook her head in response, attention focused solely on Davis now. “As it so happens, Davis here loves cats, don’t you, Davis? You two have a lot to talk about, huh?” 

@davis-sampson

@davis-sampson

It was fucking perfect, honestly: former golden boy sitting alone at a bar looking like the sad sack of shit he truly was. It was almost enough for Aaron to believe that God exists and there is order in the world. Not quite, but almost... 

He approached Davis from behind - the bastard was probably already too drunk to notice his surroundings as he didn’t even bother to turn to see who approached. “Next round’s on me,” Aaron called out to the bartender, a thick smirk on his face as he took in the side profile of the man who’d once made his life hell. 

And now he looked like maybe he was stewing in it himself - dark, sunken eyes, a heavy slope to his shoulders. Davis may have been a year behind him in school, but now he looked like he had a solid decade on Aaron. Fucking prick deserved it... But still, all the while, Davis refused to look at him. And it set his nerves on edge in a way that made his fingertips prickle with the need to grab something, maybe smash it. Aaron was the master of control, but there was something about Davis Sampson that made him want to lose it all over the other man’s face. 

“Evening, Sampson,” he drawled out instead, keeping everything firmly in check, not willing to be the first one to break. “Long time no see...” 

Attractiveness:

repulsive || hideous || ugly || not attractive || unappealing || not unattractive || meh || no preference || ok || mildly attractive || nice looking || cute || adorable ||attractive || pleasant on the eyes || good looking || hot || sexy || beautiful || gorgeous || hot damn || would tap that || perfect || godlike || holy fuck there are no words

Personality:

grating || irritating || frustrating || boring || confusing at best || awkward || unreasonable || psychotic || disturbing || interesting || engaging || affectionate || aggressive || ambitious || anxious || artistic || bad tempered || bossy ||charismatic || appealing || unappealing || creative || courageous || dependable || unreliable || unpredictable || predictable || devious || dim || extroverted || introverted ||  egotistical || gregarious || fabulous || impulsive || intelligent || sympathetic || talkative || up beat || peaceful || calming || badass || flexible

How likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending || fuck no! || never || no way || not likely || not sure || indifferent || I’m asexual || maybe || probably || it depends || fairly likely || likely || yeah sure || yes || would tap that || hell yes || fuck yes! || wishing that could happen right now || as many times as possible || we are already having sex

Level of Friendship:

never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent ||neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends || friends || good friends || best friends || fuck buddies || bosom buddies || practically the same person || would die for them || true friends || my only friend || it’s complicated*

First impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

Current impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them || It’s complicated*

How good of a kisser:

%[Holly:] Do you think if Casper the ghost came to life again, he’d look like the way he did before he died, or a grown up? or be a 12 year old corpse? can ghosts turn into zombies?

ツ[Holly:] I JUST GOT ASKED TO BE IN A SHOOT FOR TEEN VOGUE[Holly:] https://m.popkey.co/f88fd5/LqpJv_s-200x150.gif

random, drunk, heartbreaking

Kasee: Does it ever tired you out to be so moody all the time?

Kasee: GOOD GOD I WISH YOU WERE YOUNGER