PSYCHOPATH

EPISODE004

"How was your day today?" Mom inquired, setting down her glasses and closely monitoring me. Mom asked, putting down her glass and keeping a close eye on me.

With a sigh, I extended my arms across the table. "Better."

She laughed. She rolled her eyes and smirked playfully as she teased, "It's 'better,' not 'berrer.'

I mimicked her look, but for a different reason. "You never fail to make fun of me."

She smiled. "So, what improved your day?" Curiosity glistened in her eyes.

"He behaved... normally today." I tried to minimize it by shrugging. "He wasn't aloof or frigid. In fact, he talked to me.

A knowing smile curved Mom's lips. "I always assured you that you would succeed. You are healing him, just as you have healed all of your other patients.

Her confidence in me made me smile. My chest felt like it was being wrapped in warmth. "Thanks, Mama." I bent over and gave her a firm embrace. She had a homey, lavender scent.

"And? What did the two of you do? With a soft yet eager tone, she inquired.

I closed my eyes and laid my head on her shoulder. "We visited the marketplace, I observed how he handled talking to the waiter because the intention was to get him to engage with others.

"And?" She gave me a slight prod.

"He performed admirably. Excellent. He was courteous, composed, and even grinned at the man. I bit my lip, recalling something unexpected. "He has a dimple."

Mom gave a fictitious gasp of surprise. "A dimpled murderer? "Well, that makes all the difference." She laughed.

I shook my head and laughed. "Cease it. However, he did discuss his hobbies, which included psychology, drawing, and reading. I learned that while he was in the asylum, he studied it.

She arched an eyebrow. "Did he also wish to become a psychiatrist?"

I chuckled. "No. His career goal was to practice criminal law. He believed that by understanding the workings of the human mind, he would be able to think like a killer in order to apprehend one.

Mom sulked. "Isn't that ironic? He became a murderer despite his desire to apprehend them.

I gave her hand a squeeze. "Just three months remaining, he would be at liberty. And maybe he'll start over.

My wish was that he would be able to move on from the past and start over. He longed for a life devoid of violence.

I lay in bed later that night, buried under my blankets, allowing fatigue to drag me down. However, as soon as I closed my eyes, I sensed a strange feeling.

Someone touched my stomach roughly.

My body tensed as I gasped. It wasn't unpleasant. It was deliberate, firm, and controlled. Shivers ran up my spine as it glided slowly up my torso.

I wanted to ignore it. I didn't.

The hand rose, My breath caught. Torn between fear and something else, my fingers coiled themselves into the sheets. Fingertips touched my collarbone and then pressed down rhythmically, leaving a lasting impression.

There were three repetitions of the sentence.

A warm breath ghosted my lips. my heart was racing. It smelled familiar, fresh, and woodsy. Addictive.

Afterward, the touch disappeared.

My eyes popped open. As I looked around the room, waves of panic rose and fell on my chest.

Nothing.

There was nobody present.

I furrowed my brow. It seemed genuine, too authentic.

I looked down at my stomach, where my own hand lay. I let out a breath and pressed my hand to my skin, experiencing it again.

Not comparable.

It was a different touch. The tone was firm yet comforting. He possesses a risky yet hospitable personality.

My gaze strayed towards the window as I sat up. The drapes wavered a bit. The glass door stood open.

I scowled. I swear I closed it before going to bed, I jumped when I heard a sharp bark pierce the night.

Sky is my neighbor's dog.

"Why does she bark at everything?" I shook my head and mumbled, I approached and looked around the dimly lit terrace. Just shadows. Still, there was an odd uneasiness.

I pushed it away, locked the door, and crawled back into bed. "It was only a dream. It was only a foolish dream.

My skin still tingled where I had felt the touch, though, even after I closed my eyes.

I wore a black turtleneck, matching pants, and a fitted brown coat the following morning. Before leaving to go to work, I gave Mom a cheek kiss and walked out, my favorite ankle-length boots clicking against the floor.

Isabella gave me a sly smile when I got there.

"Has he finished taking a shower?" I inquired informally.

She gave a nod. She was well-dressed and engaged in a puzzle. You are welcome inside.

I bit my lip in hesitation. My mind flashed back to yesterday, his chiseled body, the water glistening on his skin. My cheeks felt hot.

Isabella grinned more broadly. "What's on your mind?"

"No! "Nothing!" Before she could pry any farther, I hurried inside.

He De Luca, Leonardo.

Puzzle pieces littered the table where he sat. He looked up at the sound of me coming, a slack grin stretching his lips.

"Ms. Psychiatrist, good morning."

I sat down and rolled my eyes. "Good morning, Leo. We're discussing your thoughts today.

Lacing his fingers behind his head, he leaned back. "All right." Let's add some interest, though. You respond to one question after I respond to another. "A deal?"

I paused. "What would you like to know?"

He grinned more broadly. "We'll see."

I let out a breath. "All right. First, how do you feel about your father?

His mouth tightened. "A poor man."

I scowled. "Explain."

"A fool fell in love with a woman who didn't reciprocate his feelings. " The man's blindness hindered his ability to recognize treachery until it ultimately led to his destruction.

His voice had a sharp edge, tinged with buried emotion. However, his face was emotionless.

"How was your relationship with him?" I gently pushed.

His mouth curled. "He cherished me, I also loved her. He lost himself as a result of her betrayal.

"Lost himself how?"

Absently, Leo's fingers traced the pieces of the puzzle. "He would strike her, making her feel ashamed. Take away her dignity one by one. Additionally, he would pretend nothing had happened when he was feeling good.

My stomach churned. "And you saw this?"

His eyes were dark as he nodded. "Each and every time."

There was silence between us.

He looked up at last. "Your turn."

I took a deep breath. "What would you like to ask?"

His unreadable eyes met mine. "Tell me about your father."

I gasped. I didn't anticipate that.

However, as I opened my mouth, I became aware of something.

He wasn't merely inquiring.

He was looking for something.

Furthermore, I wasn't sure if I was prepared to let him discover it.