A Touch Of Sin [BxB]

Jakob Haze - Session One - 14.06.2019 - 10am

Cover by - Ssstevey <3

Jake's POV:

I sit in the annoyingly comfortable, leather seat of the waiting room of Dr Martin's office. I feel like a misbehaved child. Janelle, my foster carer, sits beside me, jiggling her leather-heeled foot up and down. Apparently, due to my 'unfortunate upbringing', I've meant to have had counselling.

Janelle tries hard to be a good carer, she really does, but I wish she'd just listen to what I want, for once, and not teachers, principals or social workers. It's always their say and not mine, which is ironic, because it's my life that's always being discussed.

We're sitting in an awkward silence. I never know what to say to her.

"You don't have to sit here and wait," I finally say.

She flickers her eyes to me. "I don't trust you'll go in if I leave."

Well, she's right.

"Jakob?" a girl asks. She's young and not at all what I expected as a counsellor. She'd be mid-to-late twenties, dressed in a professional suit. She has a long, brown pony tail and dark-rimmed glasses. She seems too... young and perky, to be a counsellor. I was expected an old, white guy with worn frown lines and grey hair.

"Just Jake," I clarify when I stand.

"Come on in," she smiles. I look to Janet for a moment, before sighing and entering. When I pass, she leans in. "Just Jake."

"Funny."

"I do try," she counters, wandering over to her light blue lounge and taking a seat.

Well. This is not what I expected.

The office has stark, white walls, but so much colour decorated around it. Splashes of yellow, blue and purple litter the walls, flowers bursting out of vases and a series of plants stashed in the corners of the rooms. It's professional but sort of... fun. This is all too weird for me.

"Sit," she says, but her voice is so light and kind that it hardly feels like a demand.

I do as I'm told, dragging my hands across my skinny jeans, feeling jittery and a little rattled. My eyes dart everywhere but at her while I try to absorb everything around me.

"Jake," she begins, rolling a fancy looking pen between her pointer finger and thumb. "How are you?"

"Bit sore," I reply honestly.

"What are the bruises from?" she questions.

"I got in a fight."

"Do you often get in fights?"

"Probably more than the average person," I nod.

"Why do you think that is?"

"I'm angry and I feel better after I hit someone," I shrug. "And I like pushing people's buttons. Getting reactions out of them." I feel like I need to keep moving. My fingers tick and drum on my legs.