Tick, tick, tick
" Miss Hassan?"
Tick, tick, tick
" Miss Hassan?"
Tick, tick, tick
" Cleo."
Cleo's head comes out of the void upon hearing her own name. No longer is the voice muffled, but apparent. She looks up at the woman sitting in the chair in front of her, legs crossed, notepad in hand. She peers over the woman's shoulder to gaze at the clock sitting on the barren wall, ticking away, as if it's directly targeting her. Her body suddenly feels very tense on the soft, plush couch.
" You're tense," The woman says as she observes her behavior.
Cleo hums in response.
" Is it because of the clock?" The woman asks, " You've been looking at it for quite a while."
Cleo shakes her head.
" What is it?" The woman asks.
Cleo feels the words bubbling up at her throat, but unable to let them out. She wants to speak, but her voice remains silent as she fights through the temptation.
" I feel..." She starts, " Nothing..."
" Absolutely nothing?" The woman asks.
" Nothing..." Cleo repeats, " I went on a date the other day."
" And how did that go?
" About as good as you would expect. I wasn't... I couldn't be emotionally present with her... and I hurt her."
" Do you find it difficult? Being romantically involved with other women?"
" I find it difficult being vulnerable with... anyone."
" You're vulnerable with me."
At her words, Cleo's eyes avert to a diploma plastered on the wall, reading Dr. Rachel Kaufman, and lets out a dry chuckle.
" I wonder why," She mumbles to herself as her eyes move down to the floor.
" Why does a piece of paper make it easy for you to be vulnerable with me?" Dr. Kaufman asks.
" Because," Cleo starts confidently, but it soon fades as she tries to structure the rest of her sentence," because..." she continues, " Because... that piece of paper means you understand. It means you can actually help."
" And is that why you perused a degree in psychology? To be that for others?"
" I got the degree so I could be that for myself," Cleo answers.
" Do you think asking for help makes you weak?"
" No... it's just... I feel like I have to do it by myself. Why else would I have studied all these different subjects and learned all those languages? There's always been a part of me that feels... that feels compelled to do better. To be strong to... to take charge."
" And how long have you felt like this?"
" Since I was born."
" In Alexandria?" Dr. Kaufman asks, and at those words Cleo finally looks her in the eyes, " That is where you were born... correct?"
" Yes..." Cleo answers wearily.
" Could that pressure stem from your parents?" Dr.Kaufman asks.
" My parents?" Cleo asks, the memories still foggy within her mind, " No, no... they were historians... that's all."
YOU ARE READING
Control | Moon Knight
FanfictionSteven Grant's life is anything but extraordinary. He wakes up in his flat, feeds his fish, and then heads to work at a museum gift shop. He leaves his mum voicemails everyday, but doesn't seem to ever hear back, aside from postcards. His sleeping h...
