◈ TEACH ME TO LIVE, malika • daisy

sometimes ashley doesn’t know why he goes to the psychiatrist. she doesn’t seem to help him that much, besides the breathing exercises and the other calming things she’s taught him. but, other than that, he doesn’t completely understand what she does for him. he talks and talks and talks, and she explains to him what’s going on in his mind, asks him questions to “bring out his feelings”. ashley knows exactly what he’s feeling, so why does she keep asking? his session has just ended, and he’s tired of talking, tired of listening to her tell him how he’s supposed to feel and how he’s supposed to act when he feels like that. not to mention that his leg aches – not the good one, the good one is fine – but the bad one. it aches, and it’s ruined his mood. the man grinds his teeth together, a habit that doc has constantly told him to avoid because it simply added stress, and walks towards the front desk, where he is to schedule his next meeting. it is not, however, old georgia who is sitting there but someone new. someone gorgeous. he falls silent and stares at the young woman, his jaw slightly agape and his expression blank. he doesn’t know what to think. her hair is bright red, her face vivacious and full of life, and eyes bright and happy. who is she? his mouth is dry, and he struggles to speak, “hel – io.” he has no idea what he just said, but he hopes it was hello or hi instead of the strange mishmash that he heard. he swallows, mouth still dry, and struggles to look away. apparently no one ever told him it was rude to stare.

it isn't that daisy is unhappy with her current position. in fact, she's quite lucky to have even secured the job that she has. she was certain there were people who would give their own limbs for a stable, sensible job as a receptionist, who would kill to take home a solid-enough-to-get-by paycheck like hers. it isn't that she is being ungrateful--daisy reminds herself day after day that things could be so much worse, tries to get herself to settle down and enjoy what she has. it just isn't in her nature to be satisfied so easily! the desk that she sits behind is so constricting, boxing her in on all sides. the back wheel on her swivel chair is sticky or...something (she doesn't know the technical term), so she swirls herself around and around the reception area haphazardly, making uneven turns over and over until someone walks into the reception area, done with their session, and she has to sit still and fold her hands together and look professional. it's an uncomfortable pose for her, but she figures she'll get used to it as she--hopefully--settles into this new job. she has no other choice.the man who walks in is handsome, his eyes almost as alarmingly blue as her hair is fiery red. he must have been in his session when she arrived, because daisy knows she hasn't seen him before. she would remember. he appears to be in even more discomfort than her, initially, but when he opens his mouth to speak, she can barely understand the garbled sort of noise that comes out. it sounds like a greeting, so she smiles at him and relaxes, letting go of the overdone just-your-friendly-neighborhood-receptionist stance she had been trying to hold. "can i help you with something, sir?" she asks, looking straight into his eyes, as he hasn't looked away from her yet, either. they're the nicest eyes she's seen in a long time, she decides, beautiful, but somewhat hardened by what she guesses are the experiences that landed him in the psychiatrist's office. "enunciation helps," she adds cheerfully, putting extra emphasis on her wide grin to ensure he knows that she is just joking. sadly, this fifteen second conversation, if one could even call it that yet, is that most fun daisy has all day.