Deranged - Scene 3

Dr. Hayes expected a session. Not this fire and brimstone staring back at her. She leans in like she owns the room but Joseph doesn't flinch, he burns under that stare and returns it tenfold, hands flat on the table, veins thick with heat. When she asks the hard one, his jaw twitches, the corner of his mouth slides into something wicked, and the air thickens. He doesn't answer right away. Let it marinate. Her skirt rides higher on the chair as she shifts, catching his eye. His stare drops, lingers where it shouldn’t, then climbs slow until it meets her lips parted in the heat of the room. She can feel it. The answer. Between her knees. In the buzz under her skin. He talks just enough to give her permission, to show the hunger she never asked to find. The tape keeps rolling, but neither of them listens. The boundaries crack in the silence. She crosses her legs but the ache stays open. Joseph leans closer, the words obscene even before he speaks them, the scent of sweat and metal heavy between them, and somewhere between resistance and surrender the real diagnosis slips free.