Michael Morbius x Reader

Truths and Lies

"How have you been since our last meeting?"

You looked up, glancing at the notebook in her hands. You shrugged lightly, "Better, I guess." The lie fell off your tongue with ease.

"That's good," she replied with a reassuring smile. She did not know how to tell your truths from lies. You gave her false tells at the beginning of your sessions so she wouldn't call you out when you did not use them. No one knew your tells. Only he did.

"And the nightmares?" she asked after writing something down in the notebook. It used to bother you, how she would scribble away without giving you so much as a clue as to what she was writing. No, though, you couldn't really bring yourself to care less. "How are you dealing with them?"

Again, you shrugged, taking a moment to act as if you were thinking. "They're slowing down." Another lie.

"Well, that's great." Again, she wrote in the book. "But what about the daymares?"

You brought your hand up to tuck some hair behind your ear. Your eyes closed as you took a breath, shaking your head lightly to try and ward off the memory.

"The day ares are..." you trailed off, looking down at your shoes. She leaned in as if to inquire further. You sighed, "They're better but... not as better as the nightmares."

Another lie.

"Tell me about them."

"They're the same as usual," you said. It was probably the first half truth you had told thus far. "I'll be on my way back home or going to work and... I'd see him. Just for a second... before he'd disappear again. Except last time... he said my name."

You looked down at your hands as the words left your mouth. You zoned out for a moment, your mind returning to your trek here. You'd seen him again. He was standing in an alley, peaking out at you with a hood pulled over his head, his face shrouded slightly. But you knew him when you saw him.

Your eyes met and his lips parted. It was as if he was seeing all of you, everything you tried hard to keep from everyone else. Then, in a whisper of a voice that you somehow managed to hear, he spoke to you, "Y/N."

You paused, your lips parting. You tried to keep your eyes open as you continued walking forward, scared that blinking would make him disappear.

As you walked faster, you had not realized someone walking toward you and ran right into them. You looked around them, quickly scrambling to get to your feet again as you had not yet registered the pain of falling flat on your ass.

But as you looked up at him... he was gone.

"Y/N."

You blinked as you came back to reality. Looking up again, you saw your therapist looking at you quizzically. Again, she spoke your name. "Y/N, are you alright?"

You nodded quickly, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. What did you say?"

"I asked you how it made you feel," she said, sitting back and clasping her hands together. "Did it upset you?"

Yes.

"No."

I feel worse.

"It was... reassuring."

"In what sense?" she questioned, writing something down in her notebook.

"Closure." That's what she wanted to hear.

"Really?" she asked, her brows raised.

You nodded, fleshing out your lie. "It helped me come to terms with... his absence. He's gone and... I need to move on. He would want me to move on."