Layla
"Can you zoom in a bit more?" I requested the CCTV in charge of the animal shelter.
"Here you go, but the thing is, he hid his face very well with that cap and the mask. So it's impossible to capture his appearance." He gave me an apologetic look.
"I understand, thank you so much for your help."
"Don't mention."
I've been scouring the footage from last Thursday, hoping to spot the moment I encountered my stalker, but I was unsuccessful, once again.
It was early Monday morning. I could only make it here today since this shelter is closed on weekends.
When I got back home, I was greeted by the painting, which rested on my couch with a note beside-
"Admired for mere minutes, now forever yours." - Unknown.
He was at the exhibition as well.
The painting sat untouched on my couch since yesterday. It was a painting, unlike anything I have ever seen before.
The canvas was awash with vibrant hues, swirling together in a mesmerizing dance of color. Each brushstroke seemed to whisper secrets of the artist's soul, weaving a tale of passion and longing.
Its intricate details invite exploration. From afar, the painting appeared as a symphony of colors, but up close, I discovered hidden depths—a delicate play of light and shadow, delicate lines that hinted at untold stories.
I was inexplicably drawn to it.
And so, with a mixture of apprehension and determination, I made a decision.
It was a risk. But it was a risk I was willing to take.
...
"So, how was the exhibition!?" Amelia popped out of nowhere in the lonely office cafeteria.
"Oh my god, woman, you startled me." I gasped at her sudden movement.
"Come on, it wasn't that scary." She pulled an apple out of the basket.
I carried on with making my espresso.
Yes, espresso. Herbal tea won't do today.
She cast a suspicious glance my way as she bit into her apple.
"Where's your mind at?"
I stopped midway with my coffee.
"Is it just your profession, or am I too obvious?"
"How about we blame it on my impeccable intuition instead?" She gave me a self satisfied look.
I chuckled. "Sure."
"Now, answer." She literally commanded.
"Which story should I share? The unsuccessful hunt for the stalker at the animal shelter, or the unexpected twist of receiving an art piece from him yesterday, the very one I admired most at the exhibition on Saturday?"
What a great start of the week.
I sipped on my espresso.
"You recieved what? Nova Rain's art piece? That must have cost him a fortune." Her eyes widened in shock, a chunk of apple sat unchewed in her mouth.
"Yepp!" I broke the eye contact. Expecting her next question.
"So, you just hid it away in the store box right-
"Excuse me Dr. Beaumont, you have a patient waiting in your cabin." My floor manager informed.
"Isn't it too early?" Thankfully Amelia got disconnected from the subject.
"The patient seems very impatient. I better go. See you later."
I headed to my cabin with my espresso in hand. Upon entering, my gaze landed on my disorganized desk. For psychologists, maintaining a tidy workspace is crucial; it helps patients feel more relaxed during sessions.
"Sorry, just a moment, let me clean it real quick."
I promptly began organizing the desk.
"It's all right Dr.Beumont."
"Layla."
"Sorry?"
I moved over to the shelf and assembled some papers.
"Just call me Layla. I prefer to establish a friendly rapport with my patients—it helps create a more comfortable journey for both of us."
"Ah, I see."
"Please place your file on the desk, sir."
My shelf was the messiest of all, but I don't have the time.
"Friendship goes both ways, Layla."
"Sorry?"
"Kieren."
I closed the door of cupboard and turned around to meet the person behind that heavy voice, which felt as smooth as aged whiskey and carried a seductive resonance.
Oh! My gracious god!
His form was like that of a Greek god, sculpted and powerful, with a hint of bronze beneath his skin, reminiscent of sunlit shores. But it was the gaze that held me transfixed—an abyss of intensity, depths unknown, yet enticing. I've never seen eyes so black, so devoid of color, like they would never shine, even under the sunlight.
This man right here, yelled danger with every inch of his body.
His lean, muscular physique was evident even beneath the simplicity of his midnight blue shirt and pants. The shirt stretched taut across his broad chest and defined shoulders, hinting at the raw power that lay beneath. With each movement, the fabric shifted, accentuating the chiseled muscles of his arms and torso, a testament to years of discipline and dedication. Even in the most unassuming attire, his presence commanded attention.
There was a serpent tattoo partially revealed by his rolled-up sleeves, its face extending down to his wrist. The serpent appeared lifelike, not menacing, but exuded an eerie calmness, like the tranquility preceding a tempest. I couldn't help but wonder where the tattoo trailed off on his body and how many more serpents he has imprinted.
"You can call me Kieren." He snapped me out of my inappropriate reverie with his words.
"I..yes. Of course. Kieren." I regained my trademark therapist composure, offering a genuine, reassuring smile. He's merely a patient, and I'm here to provide guidance. I cannot and must not forget that.
"Good morning," I settled down in my chair and greeted him, my voice steady despite the slight flutter of apprehension in my chest. "How are you feeling today?"
He met my gaze with an intensity that caught me off guard, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Better now that I'm here," he replied smoothly, his voice sending a shiver down my spine.
"I see. Tell me, what brings you here. I mean your problem." I purposely added the latter, to avoid his double meaning answers.
"I am...Lost," he confessed, his words hanging heavy in the air between us. "It feels like there's something missing in my life. It feels like I am too close, yet too far."
"Can you tell me more about this feeling?" I prompted gently.
"I mean, do you have any past regrets or is it a memory or a desire that haunts you constantly?" I started taking down notes.
"It's... complicated," he replied, his voice low and measured.
"Perhaps a memory, a good one, and...it is a desire and also, something incredibly more than a desire. "
The way he speaks without looking away from me is.....quite, uncomfortably.....,comfortable.
"Have you sought guidance before?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"No one understands," he murmured, looking away for a moment. But just, a moment. His gaze locked with mine again, in a way that made my heart race. "No one, except you... maybe."
His voice and gaze bore the same intense expression, one that signaled to me that this session would be significantly longer.
And unlike any I'd experienced before.