The teacher and The mechanic

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟺- ♏︎

She had been quiet and calculating for weeks.
She rarely left the flat, and rewatched shows she wouldn't rewatch unless bored or thinking about something.
Currently she was rewatching Sherlock with Phantom sat on her lap, sitting on the carpet.
"Love. We're going on a date," I declared.
"But it's Mrs Hudson!" She argued, gesturing to the TV.
"She'll still be here when we get back okay. You need some fresh air," I pulled her to her feet as Phantom padded away and into the bedroom.
"Okay," she sighed.

"This reminds me of the night you proposed," she murmured as we strolled through a park.
"I should hope so, seeing as we're in the exact spot," I twirled around childishly.
She laughed at my antics- which I would not do at all unless I wanted to get her mind off something.
Acting like a child is seriously embarrassing and cringeworthy.
That is my opinion but it is right.
"You're being so weird. Are you drunk?" She raised an eyebrow as I took her hand.
"Completely stone cold sober," I assured her and tugged her down the path.

"Are you okay?" I finally asked as we slowly strolled back home.
She shrugged.
"I don't know honestly. The therapist I was seeing just put things into my head. It's stupid," she sighed and shook her head.
"It won't be stupid Love. If it's bothering you, it's serious," I squeezed her hand tightly. "So please tell me so I can stop worrying about you as much as I am. You're scaring me," I 
"I yelled at my therapist," she admitted.
I was not expecting that at all.
"He called me having a mental breakdown 'progress', and it kinda put in my head that I'm just an experiment, and I'm failing, so why should I still exist?"
She continued, a tear slowly streaming down her face.
"And it puts all those memories of Draco, my dad, all those hospital visits. And I'm supposed to be over that, I'm in a new chapter. I turned the page. But why does it still haunt in my mind?"
"Because nothing can truly be erased from your mind. This is your story, and when someone is reading a story they remember what happened previously to help them understand the present. If you don't remember your old memories, you wouldn't know how you got here and who you are. Those memories may not be nice, but they've made you. And that's what important, that your story is still going," I wrapped her in a hug and kissed her head softly.
"I love you so much. How to I deserve you?" She mumbled into my chest.
"I love you too Love. And I'm asking myself the same question everyday," I hugged her tightly.
"Shall we go home?"
"Yes. It's cold,"