Take My Hand - Lashton

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

-

"Ashton, there's someone here to see you," the receptionist announced, entering Ashton's office after his last couple had left. He was busy placing documents into files, ready to catch his train in time to cook Stella and himself a dinner. The past three nights he had been kept behind with paperwork he had to send off for a court case linked to one of his patients, and his body ached with exhaustion. He wanted nothing more than the mundanity of cooking a meal, feeling nourished, and resting with his fiance. It was all he could think about.

"I don't have anyone else to see today?" He stood up straight and scratched his head. He quickly slipped his diary out of his bag and opened it up to the present day. There were no patients past four o'clock. Shaking his head Ashton confirmed, "No. Nobody else. Did they give a name?" He was slightly irritated. He was desperate to leave the building. But, he was not going to leave someone in the waiting room suffering if they really needed him.

"I don't know. He asked for you by name and he seems pretty upset," the receptionist informed, his head flickering to the door as he heard the bell at the desk ring. He gave Ashton a pitiful expression, understanding how busy he was, before rushing back to his desk.

He didn't have many male patients, and those who did come often were accompanied by their partner. Their relationships never divulged into full domestic abuse, but there were signs that were worrying them. They both wanted to work it out. Ashton often assumed that men simply didn't want to admit they were being abused. It ruined their ego. But that made him want to help them all the more.

Quickly shoving his diary back into his bag, and places the files neatly into the folder. Ashton straightened his tie and ensured his shirt was tucked in tightly. Emphasising the curve of his biceps and firm torso.

As he walked down the corridor his heart was beating faster and faster. His body was intoxicated with adrenaline and anticipation. He was intrigued to see the surprise that awaited him. He knew it had to be a patient of his, they knew him by name. It couldn't be someone desperate who had just wandered in off the street unless they had done their research. Ashton rounded the corner to the waiting room.

"Luke?" The blonde man was sat in one of the many empty seats, trembling slightly. The front door was open, and the cold winter air was chilling everything it touched.

Luke looked up and shook his head. "I should go," he mumbled, picking up the hat that sat on his lap as he stood up.

Ashton placed a hand on his shoulder, his expression becoming gentle and reproachful. "Don't be silly! My office is just down here. I think we need to talk about some things."

-

Luke didn't speak for nine minutes. He sat on one of the pale grey sofas and shook. He didn't cry, he just let his body tremble with the harshness of his breath. Ashton understood what was happening. He had seen the blonde man do the same thing ten years ago. He still remembered their routine.

Wanting to establish a comfortable and normal atmosphere, Ashton remained silent. Instead, he began to tidy up his desk. Moving files from the surface onto shelves. Throwing away random pieces of paper, and straightening up the picture of Stella and himself in New York for his twenty-fifth birthday that sat just underneath his monitor.

Eventually, Luke looked up and met Ashton's eyes. He was telling Ashton he was ready to talk. That he had constructed every possible conversation he could think of in his mind. He was ready to try and be a stable human being. He just needed Ashton to initiate the conversation.