The Patient

Twenty-Four

On my way to work that morning I was already feeling the nerves. The nerves about my date that isn't a date tonight and my nerves about seeing 32. I couldn't help but feel completely guilty even though I hadn't actually done anything. 

We never said we were exclusive and we never said we were in an actual relationship of any kind. 

Hell, he's locked in a mental facility and won't even speak!

The more I think about this the weirder it gets... 

What am I doing?!?

Maybe I should rethink our whole relationship or whatever this is. This is BEYOND unprofessional and pretty fucked up if you think about it. 

But every time I think of that I can't help but think of him. How drawn I feel to him, how each of his touches makes me feel so good. How just looking him in the eyes can take my breath away. 

I should talk to Dylan about this... He's dated a bunch and he's a really good person so I know he'd give me good advice.

As soon as his familiar arm wrapped around my shoulders as we headed towards 32 I stopped turning to him. 

"Hey Dill, can we get coffee and talk? I need to ask you about something."

"Of course Ope, what's up?" He asked as we made our way towards the coffee area that I had still yet to go to. I wasn't going to let Dylan stop me this time with his weird manners or whatever the hell that was. I'm honestly curious about what its like. I've worked here a long time and never really felt the need to go but now that Dylan wouldn't let me I really want to. 

We head up and he seems pretty relaxed. He's not trying to pull me in the other direction or convince me not to go, he's just letting it happen. Maybe I was just reading too much into the situation. I mean, what could Dylan possibly be trying to hide? 

We took the elevator up and I actually almost got lost, never really coming to this floor much. 

We walked in and sure enough it was a normal cafe. Nothing suspicious or weird, completely normal. Maybe I really am going crazy. I've got to get my head sorted out soon, who knows what I'll start doing. You definitely don't want to show any signs of mental illness while working in a mental hospital. They'll notice it and lock me up before I even now what's happening. 

That's one of the reasons I haven't really told anyone about 32. I don't know how they'll react. I need to be more careful, before we get caught. It wouldn't affect him much but I'd be in deep shit. 

Dylan and I settled down and I sighed. With all of these people around I'll have to make sure to speak quietly. I don't think they can hear me unless they're actively trying to eavesdrop but still. Better safe than sorry. 

"Um, well I wanted to talk to you about 32." I said softly and Dylan raised his eyebrows. 

"Well, you know I don't like it. I think he's dangerous and think you need to stay away from him before he hurts you, or worse. 

I frowned. I really don't think he'd ever hurt me. I can't help but trust him and actually feel safer when I'm with him. I don't think he's dangerous. If anything Dylan's words were just making me reflect on what a good guy he is. 

He doesn't seem to be an asshole like Jake was. He doesn't seem like he just wants me for my money or to cook and clean after him, considering I haven't done anything for him. He doesn't seem like he's using me. He seems to genuinely care. 

"Mhmm..." I mumbled, my mind lost in thought. 

I was looking out a nearby window but I swear, in my peripheral vision I noticed Dylan looking smug and proud of himself...