nyctophilia
[ nĭk′tə-fĭl′ē-ə ]
n.
a preference for the night or darkness
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"oh we're definitely killing them then, I need to add more numbers to my kills."
"you sound like a serial killer."
"I know, I still wo...
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I nervously stood in front of the therapist's office door. I woke up at 7 in the morning because the appointment was scheduled at 8.
it was 7:58 am.
I came here alone because I left my partner back at the cabin. on the floor, I might add. why on the floor? I shoved him off the bed in the middle of the night. you know, payback for what he did the other night in his room back at HQ.
I brought my hand up to knock on the office door. my knuckles came into contact with the door three times and within a split second the door swung open, the force of the air making my hair fly all over my face. I fixed my hair with a small scowl then I raised my head slightly to see the smiling face of Hajoon.
"ah yes Mrs.Choi, right on time! please come in!" he moved out of the way for me to enter.
I tried my hardest not to cringe at what he called me, "uhm you can call me Yuri, it's fine."
"okay Choi Yuri-"
"Yuri, just Yuri, please." I pleaded before sitting down on the chair in front of his desk.
he looked at me skeptically before writing something down on his notebook.
shit, I forgot about the mission for a moment there.
I sat straight to take a peek at what he was writing. I could read any handwriting upside down so I could clearly see that he wrote 'does not like to be addressed by husband's surname.' my jaw clenched at that.
can someone please just shoot me in the head already??
he kept the notebook and pen in his hands then looked at me, his eyes looking a bit intimidating from the rim of his glasses.
I gulped, okay this dude was kinda scary. he could easily pass as one of the drug lords here.
what if he wasthe drug lord?
but then he broke into a soft smile and said kindly, "alright, we will begin our session now."
I nodded, mostly prepared for whatever he's about to ask.
"so, for how long have you two been together?"
I cleared my throat and tried to smile, wanting to appear as a loving wife to that bastard, "2 and a half years." I answered almost instantly.
