Flowers before Eve (on hold)

Dandelion - The bitter taste of old medicine

For granted...

Fucking for granted, that's what all of this was a grand case of, wasn't it? He let his free hand drop down to his side again seeing as a repeat of his previous actions was bound to yield the same exact result as before, thus becoming a waste of energy and as such a pointless endeavor.

Aaron, the casually dressed man in question, had soon come to realize after having hovered outside of 208 long enough for it to be considered kinda creepy, at least by any halfway-observant neighbor, that he had taken the simple fact that Eve would be home at this exact hour on a bright sunny Saturday morning very much for granted. This hard-won conclusion had shaped itself into existence due to a rather straightforward method that had, in short, consisted of something as simple as trial and error.

Yes, trial and fucking error.

The initial process, which in this case included Aaron having rung the doorbell outside of 208 twice before proceeding to knock four times on the flaking door itself, had forcefully bound Aaron to a finite conclusion, a rather unexpected one at that. He wasn't happy with his dismal findings; Eve wasn't home.

"Damnit."

The handle of the brimming wicker basket he'd brought along made a painful groan under the increased pressure that was Aaron's unyielding fist. The muttered profanity that had slipped from the tightly formed line of his lips was just that, muttered.

Despite having given life to it, the near-silent display of displeasure was certainly not meant to be easily discerned by any wandering eyes or lurking ears, which is why Aaron deemed it necessary to put a rather tight, momentary, leash on the distasteful emotions that had started to sizzle within.

Aaron wasn't prone to having emotional outbursts, quite the opposite. In fact, he usually leashed himself in the most formidable manner and even more so when, unlike this very instance, it concerned his work.

At work Aaron wasn't a warrior seasoned by one single battle but rather bore the semblance of a general experienced in the constant strategic brutality of a perpetual war. An ever-evolving war in which he had found himself to hold many a role, such as a supporting character in a patient's battle or even becoming the cavalry itself, set to implement an ardent rescue when a patient's mind had found itself overrun by festering delusions.

This actually happened more frequently than you'd ever think to expect really, especially with delusions pertaining to persecutory matters. You know, a patient harboring notions that either themselves or someone close to them was being watched, threatened, or that nefarious intent was about to become more than mere intent. Which in turn made treatment rather tricky seeing as some of his patients actually believed that Aaron himself was in on this vividly painted figment of theirs, that he was in effect plotting against them.

He wasn't partial to any such undertaking, a reality he thus got the ripe pleasure of implementing into the delusional minds of certain patients, to make them susceptible to the truth. He wasn't there to cause them harm, quite the opposite, he wanted to help slay the demons that whispered in their ears.

Though, despite his willingness to become the knight, Aaron's aim as a psychiatrist was always for those that sought him out to gain the tools necessary to help themselves, to allow them a lasting alteration opposed to what he considered to be a quick fix.

A quick fix, as in...

Well, imagine slapping a bandaid over a highly infected wound. In other words, a bad idea.

Aaron didn't do shit like that. Sure, he would compromise when necessary, gifting his patients the illusion of having more leeway. But his eyes never strayed from the grand picture for too long. No, Aaron expected lasting results, as seen through every aspect of his practice, especially in the firm way he guided his patients. This, in turn, made him known as a rather demanding professional. Which more often than not, contradicted what felt easy and thus acceptable to the majority of his patients. Most, especially those with a penchant toward addictive tendencies, wanted it to be easy, but Aaron wasn't there to supply easy.