My Gay Roommate (L.S)

Forty One

My leg bounces, hands wringing together, fingers swirling the tiara ring Lou got me, and my Dad's wedding band around my finger. My lip is between my teeth, heart thudding.

I look up over toward the building. Those familiar windows reaching up to the roof from the ground. The low walls.

Louis swirls his car keys around his finger, waiting patiently for me to make a move.

We've been sitting in the car for well over five minutes, my mind bouncing and screaming.

What if the therapist finds you too difficult to help and drops you?

What if they judge you for your ways and what's going inside your head?

What if he's mean and tries to murder you?

All plausible scenarios in my opinion.

I take a deep breath in.

Louis lays a hand on my thigh, his rope tattoo fresh and fully on show. "Babe, come on, love, it's not as bad as you think, and you'll be late for your time slot if you continue staring into those windows. No matter how much you stare at them, it's not going to help you magically teleport into the building."

I dust pink and have to force everything in me to unbuckle my seat belt and open the door.

Louis links his hand in mine and together we walk into the clinic.

"Bonnie said Paul's room is number sixteen," Louis mumbles into my ear, tickling the hair there.

I want to throw up.

I walk over toward room sixteen, standing outside the closed door. "Will you come in with me? Please? I-I can't do this alone."

He squeezes my shoulder. "It'll be easier if you talk to him alone, babe, trust me. I'll walk you in if you'd like."

I nod. "Okay," I whisper.

He knocks on the door for me, opening the door when he gets an answer.

The room is identical to the one Bonnie has. The only difference is the cushions are a different design, covered with mushrooms and bumblebees, and the walls are painted a powdered purple.

The man sitting at the desk looks up, kind grey eyes wrinkling around the corners more when he smiles. He has a thin layer of grey hair atop his head, and his build is big, could probably pick you up with one finger if he wanted.

But the ease of his smile and the creases in his features make him look like an uncle figure. He gestures for us to enter.

"Good morning, you must be Harry," he says, looking over toward me. "I'm Paul."

I look down to my feet, then over toward Louis.

"Louis," Paul greets, giving him a quirk of a brow.

"Hey, Paul! How's you holding up?" Louis asks easily.

"Since the last time we crossed paths? I'm fine, still picking jelly from my cushions, though."

Louis winks at him. He looks to me when I turn a quizzical eye his way. "Bonnie needed to use his room because she had a leak in her ceiling. I dropped jelly into his couch cushions by accident when I was in a session. He saw me do it when he came in to get a file from his drawer. He then told me to be careful, so I deliberately let the rest of the jelly pot drop into the cracks as well."

"Why?" I question.

He raises a shoulder. "Funny, innit." He pecks my lips, tucks my hair behind my ear before kissing my forehead. "You'll be okay, okay? I'll just be outside waiting, might pay Bonnie a quick visit and nick some of her biscuits if she's in."