My eyes drift to the couch I’m sitting on. It’s new, brought in to replace the one I ruined when I attacked Rydon.
I grin. The crackling subsides.
Dr. Parnard coughs, pulling my attention back to where he’s sitting across from me. I’ve just given him a brief explanation of everything that has been going on, figuring I probably owe him the truth.
The words come easily, and I’m surprised I can be this open.
Something about learning that you’re going to dissolve into madness and possibly try to destroy the entire universe is really liberating.
“So, to clarify, you eternally bound your soul to Sin after knowing him for only a few weeks – and he was the reason you were able to escape your previous, abusive relationship,” Dr. Parnard reiterates, looking at me from over his clipboard.
“I mean, there was a lot of stuff in between,” I answer, a bit defensively.
“Vivian, I’m concerned that you may have latched on to Sin because he was safe. You seem to show a propensity towards unhealthy attachments, and you–” His words cut short, as he slaps a hand over his left eyebrow, and turns to glare at Sin. “If you are uncomfortable with the subject matter, you can wait outside.”
Sin doesn’t bother responding, and Dr. Parnard lowers his hand to pick up his clipboard.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to try and stop myself from laughing.
I fail.
His left eyebrow is gone.
The doctor gives me an incredulous look because, clearly, this would be way out of line in our realm.
Instead, I shrug. “My relationship with Sin isn’t up for discussion.”
Narrowing his eyes, Dr. Parnard writes something on his clipboard. He mutters something about ‘emotional volatility’ as he does it. Then, he stands and strides to the door.
He speaks to someone outside for a moment before returning with a shiny, metallic cloak.
“Fireproof,” he notes at my confused expression. “I understand working with magical beings will come with some… risks. I’ve tried to prepare as best as possible.” He drapes it over his blazer before settling back into his spot. “Now! Where were we?”
Before I can respond that we were just wrapping up, he exclaims, “Ah! Got it.” He taps his pen against his clipboard and continues, “Does your unwillingness to examine the health of your relationship with Sin stem from a deep-seated fear of being alone? Did you have a troubled childhood by chance? This screams of abandonment issues, usually initiated by parent-associated trauma.”
My jaw drops at the ultra-personal attack. “You do remember you’re ahistoryprofessor?” I remind him, rather than acknowledging his weirdly accurate psychoanalysis.
“As I mentioned yesterday, I’ve been studying psychology texts in preparation for my permanent position in the Otherworld. In fact, our session will be my proof of concept. So long as things go well today,I’m hoping to open my services to other individuals here who would greatly benefit from counseling. As such, I’m really counting on your full participation.”
He sounds so excited that I don’t have the heart to protest. I mean, an unqualified therapist can’t possibly make things worse, can he?
I’m going to pretend I didn’t just ask myself that.
“Of course,” I answer, despite my better judgment.
“Excellent!” Dr. Parnard exclaims, flipping to a new page on his clipboard and drawing something.
There’s a tearing sound as he rips the sheet from the clipboard and places it on the table between us. He’s drawn a pie chart, and each slice is labeled with a topic. There are a lot, but my eyes immediately catch ‘communication, power imbalance, codependency, touch-starved tantrums, and emotional transparency.’
Dr. Parnard places his pen in the center of the circle, clapping his hands once before explaining the assignment. “Now, this exercise is a simple one. Spin the pen, and we’ll discuss whatever topic it points to.”
I don’t manage to hold back my groan. “I’d really rather not.”
But apparently, Sin is curious, since he walks over to read the categories. Smirking, he spins the pen for me. It lands on ‘sacrificial self-destruction.’
I narrow my eyes at the pen. “Rigged,” I mutter under my breath.
“Ah! Sacrificial self-destruction!” Dr. Parnard exclaims, ignoring my complaints. “This one has real potential. Let’s talk about martyr complexes!”
