The Therapist [h.s]

8

Harry's POV

She was sat at her desk, as usual, typing something into her computer. She tucked her blonde hair behind her ears, furrowing her eyebrows at the monitor.

"Hey," I said loud enough for her to hear me and she looked up surprised. When she saw me, she gave a wide smile and turned off her computer so we could start out session.

"You alright?" I asked her, she looked flustered.

"Yeah, just some personal stuff. But its all fine," I could tell that she wasn't fine. I didn't know whether to push it.

"Boyfriend?"

"Ex," she said regretfully, her voice sounding pained.

"Ahhhh," I leant back in my chair, it was the first time she was talking about herself. I liked it, it felt more like a normal conversation rather than her interrogating me.

"So how's the quest for love?" She joked and I gave her a forced smile.

"Badly."

"How come?"

"Can't find anyone."

"Well its not an overnight thing, love takes a lot of work," she said, her eyes always went slightly wider when she talked about love.

"Did you love your ex?" I was being nosey, and trying to turn the conversation from myself.

"Yes," she gulped and I felt instantly bad, I hadn't wanted to upset her.

"Well he was stupid for dumping you," I murmured so quietly that I was surprised she even heard me.

"Thanks Harry."

"No problem," there was a small pause; it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, it was quite nice actually.

"Anyway away from me and back to you?" I nodded and she gave another one of her smiles.

"Have you thought about when your depression started?"

"About four years ago, although when I was younger..." I trailed off as I realised I was telling her about my past- something I had said I wouldn't do.

"Yes?"

I considered lying, making something up. But the hopeful look on her face made me turn against that idea, all she wanted to do was help me.

"I'm not sure why but I was depressed as a teenager, it was just there I suppose. After my parent's divorce..." I rubbed my temple, it hurt to think back. Images of cuts, pills, and hateful words.

"Harry, you don't have to tell me now if you don't want to. If it hurts too much," I looked into her hazel eyes, all I could see was kindness in them.

"Maybe next session," I said slowly. It was strange that I was agreeing to tell her, at the start of our sessions I had hated her. I didn't think I'd tell her anything. How wrong I was.