"Come on in," you say, looking up from your desk with a gentle smile that has his stomach drop.

You have no idea what you do to him, and maybe, in his own perverse way of corrupting you in his mind, it reels him in and keeps him hungry. he’s obsessed, he would do anything to make you his.

you watch as he takes a seat at your desk, his mask hiding his expression, leaving his only his eyes exposed. his eyes boring into yours, into his therapist’s.