The door to the office opened. The doctor sat where he always did, in his red cushioned couch. Dorrandir raised an eyebrow as he watched the redhead walk into the office. Her green eyes were shadowed in a distant fog. Her lips curved in a frown as her shaking hand closed the door. The dark elf silently motioned her towards the seat across from her.
The redhead staggered towards the chair in a slumped, defeated manner. The clock once again continued the steady ticking as she dropped into the chair. The leather with cold, like the rest of the world. Her skin was covered in goosebumps as her heavy clothes continued to bag. The loose, thick fabrics hugged her, yet she felt like ice. The red seat the elf sat in made her feel like she devoured too much sugar and was sick. All she saw through weary eyes was a dreary grey. The doctor sat in silence, watching her, as the click continued its beat.
Tick...
Tick...
Tick...
The girl's eyes were half closed. They steadily fell on the elf as the seconds ticked away. Her life, a life she yearned to enjoy at its fullest, was blocked by the endless nightmare that was her past. She could feel herself aging, she could feel the time pass. Moments wasted, her moment wasted! She was a general, she was the protege of a legend, she was important. Yet, she felt no different than before.
"Doctor," her small voice cracked in emotion. "I'm willing to listen to your therapy options now."
Tick...
Tick...
Tick...
Tick... ... ...
...
