Therapy — K de la Renta (Patreon)

I'm not one for relationships

It's over-rated

•

You don’t specifically know how the conversation came about with K the first time around. Maybe it was around the time you began to realise that your feelings for them were steering past the platonic phase. Or maybe it was when one of the others mentioned teasingly mentioned that K and romance weren’t the most compatible. 

“You think they’re overrated, then?” you ask, when K is sitting across from you. Their focus on hoping their denim jacket will keep them warm. 

K arches a brow and looks up from their sleeve. “You might…no, actually,” they say in a matter-of-fact tone, “you will need to elaborate, rich kid.” 

Your eyes quickly roll. “Relationships.”

K pauses. What was an arched brow became two furrowed ones. Tension suddenly filled the air, their topaz eyes locked with yours for a brief moment whilst they thought of their answer. Whilst thinking, there seemed to be a disconnect between their mouth and their brain.

Their mind had been on you, how this conversation came about, why you’d be interested in this topic of conversation with K of all supernaturals. And, then, the quick flutter of heat that erupted over their arms—heat that had nothing to do with the rays of sun that started to shine on the two of you. 

They took a moment to have a think. “No.”

You blink. “No?”

K’s mouth twists at your question. As though it’s such a surprise that the vampire doesn’t actually find romance revolting, that maybe they do like to imagine themself embracing the art form—but that wouldn’t be something to admit. Especially not right now. 

“You don’t seem to like that answer,” they murmur.

Your lips thin out. “No, it’s a good answer,” you respond. “Just…”

“Not what you were expecting,” K finishes for you. 

And could they really blame you? Their whole facade and personality practically begs you to push them away, to only keep them at an arm’s length. You’ve been lucky enough to get a little closer, to peel back a layer and see the sensitive side that the vampire hides so well. But, you wonder whether that’s something you’ll get to unleash often. 

—

‘Cause you were in my head when

I thought I lost my mind

But we do this every time

•

There have been many times when K has thought they’ve lost their mind. Usually it comes during the late hours of night, when sleep decides not to claim them, and they’re laying awake with thought after thought. A dose of trauma that hits…and hits…and hits…

So, now, they know they haven’t lost their mind. There isn’t the feeling of sweaty palms, no need to grit their teeth, no need to clutch at their bedsheets and hope they don’t fall into a slumber and encounter a nightmare. 

This is different. 

A situation where, instead, their mind is plagued with thoughts of you. It began calmly, in a way where K needn’t be alarmed. The same way you’d think of a friend when you haven’t heard from them or seen them in a while. All until it ended up fast-forwarding, to when K’s trauma would appear and the mere thought of you would help keep the negativity at bay. 

Even more so when it was the middle of the night and of all people, you’re the one K calls. 

“Are you okay?” you say down the line, almost trying to mask the tired tone of your voice, but you’re beginning to question whether that’s ever a possibility when there’s a vampire on the end of the phone. 

You and K have done this before. 

Where you tell the other that they can call whenever they need to. No matter what time.

It’s not often K does so, but the offer is there. And it actually warms your heart that they take you up on it. 

“Are you?” K questions back with ease. They’re in their apartment, in the living room, pacing. A jumper over their torso, eyes fixated on the clock that read 3:05am. “You should be asleep.”

You scoff. “Maybe I have new supernatural powers that means sleep isn’t a necessity for me.”

A light chuckle falls from K’s lips as they enter their bedroom. “Maybe,” they hum softly.

It’s funny how this is calming to them. The simplicity of not being near you, but being only a phone call away. 

You pause for a moment, stifling a yawn. “You never answered my question.”

K’s takes a seat on their bed and leans back. They know exactly how they’re feeling. Emotional intelligence is their forte, maybe not to the extent of their werewolf best friend, but K knows feelings. 

So…platonic, right? That’s what they’re trying to clutch to. To make whatever this thing is much less awkward for their soul. 

But if that were true, then there wouldn’t be such an ache in their chest when you’re not near. There wouldn’t be the desperation to have the tiniest piece of you in their life somehow.

“Yeah,” K murmurs after clearing their throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.” They stay silent for a long moment, to the point where you think that the call has ended. But then you hear them swallow hard. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Your heart skips a beat at that statement. 

Because maybe, finally, arm’s length is too far of a distance for K to keep you.