𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 || 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄/𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐍

Chapter Twenty-Five

His therapist's unfaltering gaze on him was pretty unnerving.

Wonwoo squirmed and regretted it immediately. He was still feeling last night's activities.

"Why are you here, Wonwoo?" Miranda said at last. "What do you hope to achieve by seeing me?"

"I..." He licked his lips. "I told you already. I want you to help me get cured of this—of my Stockholm syndrome. I want to get him out of my head."

She cocked her head, regarding him over the rim of her glasses. "And yet you're continuing sexual relations with that man."

Wonwoo bit his knuckle, avoiding her eyes. "You'll fix me eventually, so what difference does it make?"

"Wonwoo," Miranda said calmly but with an undertone of reproach. "I'm not a magician. I can't help you if you don't make an effort yourself. Your attitude isn't that different of a woman who chooses to have unprotected sex only because she can take a 'morning-after' pill. It is, in fact, worse, because there's no such pill for you."

Wonwoo dropped his face into his hands, his shoulders slumping.

"I know," he said. "It's just...it's hard." Sighing, he lifted his head and looked at his therapist miserably. "I feel so good with him. So, so good."

Miranda didn't look particularly surprised. "What do you mean by 'good?' Could you elaborate?"

Wonwoo thought of the way he felt this morning when he woke up in Mingyu's arms.

"Giddy," he said. "Safe," he said quieter, feeling like a freak. Mingyu was the last person he should be feeling safe with. "I need help," he said, desperation sneaking into his voice.

"Any kind of BDSM relationship requires a high level of trust in your partner," Miranda said. "Trust of your safety, trust of taking care of you, trust to read you correctly and give you what you need. It can create a deep bond between two people that goes beyond sex."

"But we aren't—we don't always...do it," Wonwoo said, his face aflame. "I'm not even into pain. I'm not into whips and things like that. I just like being..." He trailed off, unsure, because the first word that he sprang to his mind was his.

"Taken care of?" Miranda suggested. "Like you belong to someone?"

Wonwoo nodded hesitantly. She wasn't wrong, but he didn't really want to talk about it. Truth be told, Mingyu was the only person he felt comfortable enough to discuss—and do—those things with.

"A BDSM relationship doesn't necessarily contain bondage or sadomasochism," she said, but as if sensing his reluctance to talk about it, she changed the subject. "Would you say you feel less attached to him now that you're free?"

Wonwoo thought of this morning—of how reluctant he had been to move from Mingyu's wide, comfy chest when it was time to get up. Of how he couldn't stop sneaking kisses while he made breakfast for them. Of how he let Mingyu suck a bruise on his neck in the underground parking garage before they got into their respective cars. Of how he had been obsessively checking his phone all day, barely able to focus on work.

Wonwoo cleared his throat. "Not really."

He left the therapist's office with more questions than answers.

Halfway to his flat, he noticed something that finally distracted him from the questions in his mind and the silent phone in his pocket.

A black minivan was following his car. He was pretty sure he'd seen that car parked by Miranda's office when he left it.

His heart in his throat, Wonwoo glanced at the rear-view mirror again before pulling out his phone and hovering his thumb over the number Mingyu had programmed into his phone this morning.