The room was cold and smelled strongly of sweat. He hated being here, the only thing that made it bearable was her, the girl with the cross tattoo. She was always here, every Tuesday, sitting in the same spot across the room. Her hair was jet black, she wore it in a messy bun with soft pieces falling around her face. Her skin was a deep olive, tanned to perfection. She wore a green shirt, cut low, low enough to make it hard for him to focus. She was also wearing a lacey black bra, clearly visible through the thin material of her shirt, the straps of which kept falling off her bare shoulders. She wore short black shorts, too short, and her legs seemed to go on for miles. Despite how revealing her outfit was she didn't look trashy or like she was trying too hard, the way most girls do. She was leaning casually against her chair, eyes focused front. He took this as an opportunity to let his eyes trail her body, yet for some odd reason they kept going back to the cross on the back of her neck. It looked as if it had been branded into the skin. On most girls it would be considered an imperfection, not to him, not on her. The scar just made her that much more beautiful. She was the epitome of perfection, right down to the last detail. He knew she was out of his league, galaxies out, girls like that never noticed him so he settled for admiring from afar. When his eyes finally found there way back to his face he realized she was staring at him. Her deep blue eyes pierced through his skin. He was frozen in her gaze. She watched him, unblinking, curious. His heart felt as though it would jump right out of his chest. It seemed like they were there forever, an eternity, frozen in time. but she never turned away, she simply tilted her head to the side and sent him a knowing smirk, she knew he had been staring, she knew exactly what she did to him and she enjoyed it. He instantly went bright red, he was so embarrassed. He turned his head and shoved his face into his notebook, he stayed like that the rest of the meeting, not daring to look up. When it was finally over he got up and ran to the coffee machine, he needed it to get home, it had been a lousy day. As he picked up the cup to take a sip he heard her, right over his shoulder.

" coffee sucks"

He was so startled he spilled it on himself

" Jesus didn't anyone ever teach you not to sneak up on people like that"

"common its better next door" she said and then she grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him to a little coffee house next door, her slouchy black boots making a clicking sound the whole way.

He ordered a medium cafe Breve and added about a pound of sugar to it. She on the other hand ordered a regular coffee black.

" I see you like yours black." he said as she stared at her coffee, slowly stirring it. "Did you know that 50% of the population, equivalent to 150 million Americans, drink espresso, cappuccino, latte, or iced/cold coffees. Of the people who drink regular coffee only 35% of them prefer black coffee."

"and the other 65?" she said without looking up from her drink

" They prefer to and some form or sugar or cream"

"hmmm" she said slowly looking at him from under her dark lashes " I don't like extras, I think it ruins the taste. what can I say I'm a simple girl"

" I wouldn't say that, actually you're quite extraordinary. Did you know that only 7% of the population has naturally dark a hair and skin but light eyes."

" you think I'm extraordinary?" she said as she took a sip of her coffee, long and slow, staring at him the whole time. His face grew red and his throat went dry causing him to swallow hard. It was just too much for him to handle. She was messing with him. He felt like a fly under a microscope.

" I...I didn't mean.. uh.. I'm Reid by the way" He said realizing he had never told her his name. " Dr. Spencer Re..."

"I know who you are" Her voice was flat. It was obvious she enjoyed messing with him. "So tell me Doctor, exactly how full of shit are you?"

" I... uh..Ex...Excuse me?"

" I said How Full Of SHIT Are You" She repeated slowly making sure to put emphasis on each word.

"I.. I don't understand the question" He had no idea what was going on. Here he was sitting in a practically empty coffee show with who frankly he couldn't tell weather she liked him or if she was on the verge of beating him up and stealing his wallet.

"Well doctor" she said putting special emphasis on doctor "i've seen you walk in and out of these rooms everyday for months now, watching, listening to the stories, its obvious you care. Its obvious this isn't a game to you, your recovery means something to you but yet all this time I've never heard you share. My question is why, what could possibly be so terrible you'll risk your recovery to keep a secret?"

" well.. what..what about you, I've never seen you share either"

With that she cocked an eyebrow and leaned forward, making sure to be as close to him as possible. So close he could practically smell what type of conditioner she used. A smile ghosted her lips and whispered

" I'll show you mine if you show me yours"

She was playing with him. She knew she was beautiful and he could tell she enjoyed making men melt at her feet, the type of girl who loved to run circles around men. He knew she was trouble, he knew he should get up and run out that door and never speak to her again but he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to walk away, she was too beautiful and he wanted her too bad to walk away. So he decided to be honest

" I.. i don't think thats a good idea"

" why? you don't think we, I would understand?"

" Look i don't mean to imply that what you've been through wasn't terrible but..."

" But there's no way that I could know what you've experienced, right? I couldn't possibly feel that need. I wouldn't understand the voices whispering "this is who you are". The pressure you feel to maintain normalcy all the while having this growing need rising and riding you like a wave, just begging to be fed. Getting louder and louder, until they're screaming "now!" Until it's the only voice you hear, the only voice you want to hear. you belong to it. To this … shadow self. To this … gnawing, creeping darkness just waiting for the chance to eat you alive. I couldn't possibly know what that feels like, could i spence?"

"I.. I.." He stammered, looking for something to say. No one had ever done that before, no one had ever described it so perfectly. He had never felt like anyone understood him before, no one had ever make him feel so safe. So normal. Suddenly her phone rang, slicing through his thoughts. She looked down at it and then back up at him

" well looks like you've been saved by the bell my dear. I have to go."

she stood up and began to walk a way before turning on her heal " oh and Spencer" she said as she walked back over to him. She placed her had on his pants, right over his member, applying slight pressure. She leaned forward and whispered " i really am looking forward to seeing yours" and then she was gone. He was stunned, no woman had ever done something like that to him.

" wait" he yelled realizing he never got the mystery girls name but it was no use she was already gone.