Intrepid » n.h. au

Chapter 40

"I know," She whispers after a longer silence, almost too quiet for me to hear, and strolls over to another chair to sit down on. For a while she only looks at her hands, a guilty expression on her face. "I don't have anything to say for myself."

Good, otherwise I wouldn't have listened. "Are you sure you don't want to talk to anyone?" I ask, a little hesitant about the subject, "Like a... therapist? Or something?"

At first she only replies with a humorless smile, rubbing her face with both hands. "I never said I don't."

I keep watching her, my eyes a little wider at this point, not sure if I'd heard her well. "Well... do you?"

"Dunno. I guess it can't do me any harm."

I walk over to the table once I process her words, pulling a chair to sit in front of her. "A-are you sure? 'Cause I don't want you to do anything for me. And I don't wanna make you feel like there's something wrong with you, you just... have problems that I'm not qualified enough to help you solve."

"No, you've done more than enough." She continues nodding to herself, "Way, way more than enough. I'm a perfect example that you can't just fix a person."

Holding back a smile, I reach out to take her hands, not taking my eyes off of hers. Even though she clearly doesn't want to look at me. "Okay, so... do you want me to start searching for numbers?"

"You're really keen on sending me to a doctor, aren't you?"

Now if she hadn't said that with humor in her tone, I would've been pissed. "Wha- no. No, I... I want you to get better. Mainly for yourself. I know you want to start college and get in touch with your mum, and... you can't do either of those when you have these paranoid thoughts cluttering your head."

"Do you think that's what it is?" She asks quietly, "Paranoia?"

"Well, let's not diagnose you with anything by ourselves," I say through a sigh, getting up from the chair to get my phone, that's lying on one of the kitchen counters. I pick it up and turn around to lean against the counter, but when I see Freya standing a few feet in front of me, fidgeting her hands, looking nervous and nauseous, I pause opening the browser.

"You alright?" I ask stupidly, as if I don't know she'd rather be doing anything else than this.

"Yeah. Do it. Go on."

I keep my eyes on her for another minute, as if trying to break through a firewall in her head and see what's on her mind. If her feelings match her appearance, then it's not hard to guess. They hardly ever do in reality, but the pale, blank, half-dead face she's giving me doesn't seem like an act.

"Come here," I tell her, almost reluctantly, stretching my arm out to greet her in a hug. Without any hesitation she's scurrying across the room, wrapping her arms around my waist, making me shiver when she presses her hands to my muscle tee clad back. I feel like her body temperature is a couple degrees below what's considered 'average'.

"I hope it's only issues," She mumbles against my neck, her voice trembling, "I hope it's nothing serious, so help me God, if I get told I have a m-mental disorder-"

"Hey- no, okay? No," I place my hand on her chin to make her look up at me; I don't care how vulnerable she is, she has to think straight. "Don't say things like that. You're... you're gonna be fine, as soon as you talk to someone whose job it is to help you."

"You have a lot of nice ways to call it, yet I still feel like a crazy person."

"Well then don't," I tell her, rubbing her arm to which she winces for some reason, "What you're dealing with isn't half as serious as what mental hospital patients deal with."