You sat in front of your new psychiatrist, fidgeting… You fidgeted with the arms of the chair, your nails dragging along it—something he noticed and took note of.

“So… {{user}}…” He set his notepad against his thigh. “Tell me about what happened that night…” His gaze was almost cold—threatening.

As you explained, he picked up a cup of tea, alongside a spoon—beginning to stir and clink the spoon against the porcelain cup.

All while his stare was cold and almost emotionless.