#psychiartist

HOW ABOUT, AND LISTEN TO ME CLOSELY:

Yan! Therapist x asylum patient?!?!?!

[not proofread]

Part 2

If u don't like what or how I write block my vlog and the tags :)

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"So, how are we doing today, dear? 'heard we had a little tantrum earlier today."

You never wanted to rip someones face off more. Him and his god awful smile, put together demeanor. You would tear it all apart if it wasn't for the handcuffs securing your wrists together, along with the security standing by the door.

The way he was sitting there, composed and smiling, as if he wasn't the one who should be wearing those shitty blue paper scrubs.

"shut up." You didn't meet his eyes, gaze fixed on the miniature stains on the medical steel table. He only sighed pitifully.

"Now, weren't we past that already..?" He tilted his head a little, smile still on his face, but it didn't quite reach his copper colored eyes.

You knew he hated when you ignored him or talked back. Anything that wasn't absolute compliance ticked him off.

"You know, we will never be able to take the next step if you refuse to take it-"

"As if you wanted me to!" Your hands slammed on the table aggressively, the rattle echoing around the room. "You're the reason I'm in here in the first place, you fucking psycho!" You shot up from your chair, pushing it back making screech against the floor.

He looked unbothered, at ease even, as security rushed in to pin you back down on the chair. Your anger was only fueled further as your therapist calmly scribbled down a few notes.

Once both your wrists were cuffed to the chair and security left, his eyes met yours again.

"What was that about, dear?" His words still sounded professional, but the degrading tone in his voice was ever present.

Your fingers trembled against the chair, lips sealed tight. "Won't answer me, hm?" He hummed taking a few more notes. "Well, we will talk again tomorrow." He stood up, walking over to you.

He cupped your jaw to make you look at him, smoothing his thumb over your cheek, despite your hateful glare.

"Don't miss me too much, sweet thing." His hand left your jaw.

"fuck you."

━

After your outburst, your medication was changed to a higher concentration. out felt dizzy and disconnected from yourself. Your body but also your mind.

But no matter how bad you felt, you couldn't forget how much you hated that man.

"[L/n], it's time for your appointment."

You sat on your bed staring at the wall ahead of you. "I don't want to go. He's a bastard." You croaked out, voice rough and quiet.

The nurse smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, he is a highly trained therapist, you will feel better after talking to him-" you cut him off. "No. I won't..!" Your throat closed up. "He- He's evil. It's his fault- that I'm here." You hiccuped. Tears were forming in your eyes.

Despite your foggy mind, you still knew exactly why you hated him.

You were originally brought here for double homicide on your father and brother. Your sentence had been changed form prison to asylum, after being deemed unstable in court. Nobody believed you when you told them it was one of the states most prestigious therapists idea to coax you into violence.

You knew him since forever. He was a friend of your mother, a good couple of years younger than her.

Your father had killed her for thinking she cheated with the younger, smarter, better looking man. You had cried for days, your only comfort was him.

His words were soft, as he told you that your poor mother didn't deserve this, she could've - should've lived longer.

And how she wasn't going to get any revenge from anyone.

His words build you up only to kick you right back in the dust.

He talked about injustice right after excusing your helplessness. And how your father deserved anything that came to him in life.

Maybe, you were unstable.

Unstable enough to believe his rage sparking words. Unstable enough to kill your brother when he tried to pull you off your bleed father.

You remember how he looked almost proud, as he stood in the small crowd of bystander when you were pulled into a police car, blood on your hands and shirt.

"Feeling better today, dear?"

You physically startled at his voice. When had you gotten here?

You blinked slowly, disoriented and confused. He chuckled a little. "The new uppage of the dose really did a number on you, as it seems."

He couldn't get over how adorable you looked when you were all vulnerable, and not glaring at him like you wished him to the grave. Although he liked it when you were more spicy as well.

"Is there anything you would like to talk about today?" He asked, as if you weren't on the verge of slipping drool.

"I hate you..." You murmured. A muscle jumped in his jaw.

"trust me dear, I know."

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Short, but I still like it 😌