Thread: Standing Appointment - Hollow x Praxis

Mr. X was livid. Sounds like a win to me! He grinned around the mouth of the bottle one more time, coming hastily to his feet with a pleased expression. I can't believe this wasn't more of a thing. I feel like an asshole, now. He gestured out with the bottle hand while pocketing the other, shoulders back and chin up for the type of posture a person could respect. He felt like he had gone blind. Unbelievable . Everything about this was heinous . This was a mistake. He definitely should have taken her cat. Her crass, dismissive attitude demanded correction. He wanted more than anything to punish her and set a clear boundary that she owed him quaking reverie. He wanted to hurt someone she loved. He wanted to trash her office. He wanted to slash her tires and throw bricks through her windows at night, break into her home and hide in the guest room until someone had to go to the bathroom. He wanted to steal her identity and fuck her sister. He wanted to get her boyfriend fired and- He withdrew his phone from his pocket and sent Brandon a quick text. Me Brandoooo Me Drinkies?? XD There. Your necklace is safe for now. Can I hold onto it for a bit? Like a safety blanket? I hope you won't begrudge me. I have trust issues. Always with this playfulness. He crossed in front of her, but from across the room, and approaching from the outside. What he thought he was doing was concealing his aggression and paying her the respect of a little distance while he executed this little joke, but naturally what he was actually doing was preforming a predatory flank, shoddily, spurred by emotion. In dipping low he clinked the bottle to the outside of her trash bin, moving around her with a look to get back around behind the desk. Cheers. He took one final pull before setting it on her desk. I'll just wait here. Unless you'd like to walk out into the parking lot together. People tend to want space after I've met them. I can, lock up for you. He hurriedly added that last part as though he'd forgotten it might not occur to her while reposing in her swivel chair. Everything was highlighted with that immediate outlined quality that came when he was on a roller coaster or fighting for his life, that going-through-customs cool that kicks in when the screws get tightened and people are watching. His breathing had evened out. His smile was easy, palms had stopped sweating. He was Present. He was furious. He was elated that he'd won and gripped with the need to secure what felt like a foothold. Stay that impulse... don't take her lightly... if she was someone you could do that with she'd be worthless to you... Smashing her head into the drywall until you can see the other side. Push her over, this desk, make her remember. Your belt. Your gun. Your knife. Her paperweight. Dictionary. The edge of the desk. Burnt orange wig. Screaming. Smashed plastic faces. Your necktie. Plastic bags for her garbage must be in the desk, maybe half a pack - enough? Patient files - here? Car keys, purse, too far to carry. Fire exit. Four cars in the parking lot. Her cell phone. My cell phone. Force-fed alcohol. Condoms. Bust statuette on the windowsill. Minimal visibility. Now? Tonight? Right now? Like right right now? If you want. He crossed his legs again, easing back in her chair, adding an impetuous flair to sell it. He was perfect. Keen eyes, air of assurance, fluid affect. Adaptable. Happy. Calm. But she was good, had pegged him before so he went for a touch of honesty people like that and added I... You kind of threw me. Elbows on the table. Fingers interlaced. Look away, shrug, shake your head. You got me. Touch of intimacy. You're right, I was... thinking about this as like, I pay you, you do a thing. Like a chef or a... delivery person. It's demeaning. I wasn't respectful. Relationships demand respect. That I do get. I have a lot of respect for you, Doctor Hannigan, that's why I picked you. I want to really thank you for taking me on. Despite my ridiculousness. I can see it now , because I'm not worried you won't help me. In the moment it makes sense. His rolled his forearms forward and upturned his hands while shrugging helplessly, awarding himself bonus points for putting the desk between himself and her. He saw this as himself offering her a defense from him, removing the only obstacle between her and the door rather than just making a different kind of power move. I don't think I'm a psychopath, Dr. Hannigan, really I don't. I think I've just picked up some disadvantageous behavior patterns. I know it's not your job to change them for me, but if I could understand why I solve my problems the way I do I think I could avoid a lot of issues - not just for me, but for everyone in my life. He was nodding along with his own rhetoric. Eye contact. Raised eyebrows. Pause... I should just shut up now. Thank you for dealing with me. I hope you won't miss the L. I'd drive you, but. He wasn't allowing himself to be fully conscious of how much he wanted her to let him take her space, see her acquiesce to his display. He withdrew a pack of gum and popped out two squares into his palm. He went silent, smiling, holding up the pack of gum for a few seconds in offering.