Well, this has mentions of slash (figgy) so if you don't like, don't read!
"Now, Iggy, do you know why you're here?" The flighty blonde woman asked, steepling her fingers in an attempt to look professional and serious.
The blind boy grumbled, still fuming at the fact that Dr. M made him and Fang take therapy, on different days of the week no less!
All because she had found them in a rather...compromising position. She had preached for about an hour about God's will, and how what they were doing was wrong. Not even Max, who had known of their relationship from the beginning, could stop her mother once she got the idea of therapy and counselling on her mind. Now here Iggy was, and had been for the past three Wednesdays, as Fang had for the same amount of Mondays.
"Well? What have you learned in these three sessions?" Elegant eyebrows rose in question as Iggy sighed. The woman asked this at the end of each session. That meant the torture was almost over.
"I've learned that Fang needs to be more subtle, and that we both need to learn to control our hormones." He replied with a scowl on his face, making the woman roll her eyes and dismiss him.