I have to say I'm so unbelievably amazed and grateful for everybody's lovely reviews! They're SO kind and I hope this chapter is just as good! Thank you so much!

By the next morning, because Carlisle can't stand sleeping in, I realise I am once more alone and once more tangled about in this shirt. So much so that when I sit up, it tries to slip off my shoulders. I don't really know how to respond to that. But at least this time I'm wearing underwear?

My phone is going off but because it's early still, you can tell by the chilly air streaming through the open window behind my head, I know it's not my alarm. When I reach across to grab it, sorely reminded of my shitty day from yesterday, I see the abundance of notifications. Three from my boss. One from the bank telling me I've been 'paid' which I don't even want to address. Four texts and a missed call from Alice aaaand…nothing from Carlisle. And no note either. Fine. Whatever.

I shower quickly, check my injuries and discouragingly get changed in an obsessive amount of layers considering it's cold outside. My hair is not conforming today so I leave it wavy and head to the kitchen in hope. Downstairs is pretty empty but Carlisle's done his best to clear up. What he hasn't done is left me a note in the kitchen, either.

It's not like I care. It's just a little rude?

I check the time again and grumble, grabbing a bag to leave when something catches my eye on the coffee table…

A heavy set of keys.

Are you kidding me?! Finally!

My feet skip a few steps on the run down the porch but I'm so pleased to be confronted with my car sitting on the drive I don't even think to complain. I caress her chipped silver paint and kiss the bonnet. She's never looked more beautiful. She's worth so much more than the Volvo and Mercedes in the drive. She's got character. I'm almost too excited to be rehomed in a moving vehicle to realise there's a folded note in the alcove of the steering wheel. Okay, so now I'm really grinning. How could I presume he'd forget?

There's only two lines written in his pretentious calligraphy but they're still pretty gorgeous. The first is a number followed by: Campus Security- about last night. They're expecting your call. (Not anymore). But beneath are the words I'm really looking for and not just the words, the letters.

Ring me ASAP. Xx There's even an additional tail to the last x as if he considered giving it a friend and changed his mind last minute- Oh Jesus, I'm really looking too much into this?

Nevertheless, with a proud grin, I place the phone to my ear. He answers immediately, coming across as endearingly impatient in his tone. Which admittedly, is unlike him?

'Carlisle Cullen. I fucking love you.'

'She all okay?' He asks proudly and I can just feel myself squealing with delight.

'Fuck me, she's gorgeous. Listen to this…' I turn my keys in the engine and groan along with the erotic purr of my fabulous new engine.

'Funny, it's almost like all cars are meant to make that sound?' He says playfully.

'Even her chairs! Fucking hell, Carlisle. Her chairs. She's been reupholstered. She's a hot little number now.'

'We're still on about the car, right?'

'Listen!' I squeal excitedly, turning the engine on again and pretty much jumping in my seat. 'Eurgh, can you hear her? I'm not even joking when I say I'm half way through an orgasm right now.'

'Es,' He laughs gently.

'She's utterly perfect!' I cheer emphatically, grinning along to his amused humming. He's almost too happy to let me rave about my obsessive love for independence right now.

'So you are happy, then?'

'I don't care if I have to sell my soul to you in gratitude. I will pay you back!' My grin is hurting my cheeks but I'm just so- I swear to God, I'm actually going to cry.

'Don't worry about it.'

'Don't worry about it? Are you kidding? Can you hear how excited I am right now? I've finally got transport! Let's go on a road trip?!'

He laughs a little more, letting me air several more moments of utter joy and obnoxious love before cutting in. Let's just say with my car back and an enthusiastic appreciation for my flatmate, I wasn't far from the truth when I mentioned orgasming.

'...If I may interrupt?'

'Sorry. Go ahead.' My car is so fucking hot!

'I forgot to…explain again?'

'Explain?' I ask. Still stroking my hand along the material of the steering wheel. Mmm.

'The other night?' He replies nervously though he can clearly hear I'm distracted enough and gives a relieved sigh. 'Okay fine, but I swear I will explain tonight. Just don't let me forget-.'

'Don't panic, Carlisle. You can explain after your lecture?' I say this carelessly because you can hear in his very tongue that this is a conversation he doesn't want to be sharing. His good nature won't let him escape it though. Morals are morals.

I hear him grimace through the receiver and my face instantly falls.

'That's the thing- I've been called in for a few hours….'

He's at work. He's at work on his day off. That is soooo not fair.

'A few hours?' I am so shit at pretending with this guy. 'When do you finish?'

'Seven…' He says cautiously.

'Seven? You told Tilly to come round at six?!'

'Which leads onto the next point…' He begins, even more wary…

'Hell No!' I am not contacting that pathetic waste of space!

'Aw, come on Es?'

In my mind's eye I have the perfect image of him leaning against a wall, arching out his back like he does on very rare occasions. And with that image, I almost fall into his trap and agree.

'No way! It's my day off, too! I don't want to talk to her!'

'I'm desperate?'

'Not desperate enough.' I mutter back, glaring into my rear-view mirror to see my shitty reflection. I look like I'm up for a little challenge.

'At least give me her number so I can phone her?'

Go jump into an ice cold bath, you walking dildo.

'Shouldn't you remember it?' I add icily, my nose scrunching up already.

'Don't be mad?'

Instead of denying my apparent madness, I huff at him.

'And stop glaring.' He adds with a pleased sound, dammit. 'It is just her number?'

'Why is this bitch coming to our house?'

I'm almost surprised by my vicious name calling but he's clearly not. After a few seconds pause, back comes a mumbled laugh and I'm suddenly jealous of his work schedule. Why do random strangers get to see him grinning when I'm stuck on a phone line?

'Because we invited her?' He replies hesitantly.

'Ah-em.' No we most certainly did not.

'Please don't be mad- I've got another favour to ask...'

'Carlisle!' Oh my God. Day off! Do you know how rare these bitches are?! I never get a day off.

'I need you to pick up Alice and Jaz later, if possible? They've asked to stay round so they can drink.'

And yet another excuse to vacate a bed has made itself apparent. There's no way in hell I'm going to complain about that.

'Oh? That's no problem, I can do that?' Also, any excuse to run these wheels is something I'm going to revel in.

'And…Meet me for lunch?'

'No.' I reply quickly, trying to hold the smirk. He instantly sounds offended.

'What? Why?'

'I am pissed at you right now?'

'…you don't sound pissed?' He replies, slowly.

I'm about to poke my tongue out when I realise he's not sat next to me and it would have no actual effect on the both of us.

'Well, I am.' How could I be pissed off when I'm blushing?

'Just meet me for lunch and I'll earn your forgiveness?' He sings playfully.

'No.' I reply more fiercely this time. Though this idea quickly dissipates. What better way to earn forgiveness than to praise my awesome teachings? I.e. - Finally I'm going to get to studying biology with this Adonis! '…But if you happen to text me then whatever?'

'Thank-you.'

'Just to let you know, you totally cock-blocked my moment with my car.'

He chuckles again in his humming manner, probably rolling his shoulders like he does sometimes.

'Why does that not surprise me? Anyway, I'm getting glared at- I've got to go…'

I check the time and sigh again. Euuurgh I need to leave as well, I'm going to be late.

'I'll see you later,' he continues when I don't reply.

'No you won't!' But he's hung up already.

Luckily for me, the morning in general flies by and after what I think is going to be a tense phone call, Alice brings my mood back up. She's looking forward to tonight, more about Bella and Edward if I'm honest and she's barely spent time with Jasper this week. It's sweet though, our little group-ness.

I've got an hour or so to kill before my next lecture and my plan is just to go wandering around the building but my phone keeps blowing up. Even when I try to ignore it. Three missed calls from my boss and one from Tilly.

Nope. Day off. I refuse. I'm in a good mood for once in my life, I'm going to ignore it. But Tilly's just sent me an aggressive text. Do you want to get fired?! Answer your phone! So I tentatively phone her back.

'What?' I ask carefully.

'Get your ass down here!'

Why is a twelve year old ordering me around?!

'It's my day off.' I say, irritably.

'And? Do you know how pissed he is?!'

'I've got lessons…I'm not coming in….' I answer. Fucking hell I'm a wimp.

'You. Are. Getting. Fired.'

For a second I think about crushing the phone and celebrating. Then reality comes falling into context and then the idea of poverty and financial hardships and all of a sudden I'm freaking out.

'What?!' Fired?! Why am I getting fired?! I've never been fired. Why the fuck would I be fired?! It was just a lie to Cullen?! For fuck sake my boss used my ass as a punch bag and I haven't complained.

'Exactly!' She whines in her petulant manner and within a second, I'm already arguing with myself. Go to your lessons. Go to your lessons, Esme. Fuck. Stop it. Don't you dare put your key…stop driving…Why am I making these shit decisions?!

Once I've parked (horrendously), I throw open the shop door and rush to the till.

'What the hell is going on?!' I complain, slamming both palms on the empty counter to grab the school girl's attention.

Tilly's sat on the counter, swinging her legs and looking through her phone as though my presence is boring her. She's minutes away from blowing up a pink bubble of gum and shoving her hair in bunches.

'Knew that'd get you here.' She says with a side smile, her eyes glued to the brick in her hands.

I'm losing my shit. My hands are already turning to claws as I fight the urge to strangle this cow. 'For fuck sake Tilly! I had lessons!' Correction; have. I'm jeopardising my life for some drama about coffee.

'Yeah, yeah.' She says flippantly, waving her hand at me. 'So is Carlisle picking me up or paying for a cab?'

This bitch called me over here to chat about my Flatmate?!

'He's working- he'll let you know.' I seethe, folding my arms across my chest because I'm seconds away from lunging at her. Tilly's face falls and I'm just about to address it when my Boss comes thumping into view from behind.

'Where the hell have you been?!' He roars, leering once again as if I were beneath him. Out of nowhere, I find a strike of courage and hold onto that bitch like it's my life source.

'It's my day off.' I repeat, using the same disgruntled tone as him.

His bulbous eyes widen and with an infuriated expression, he shakes his head.

'Office!'

'I've got lessons!' I shout back, jumping a little volume of my voice. Using a viper's grip he takes a hold of my arm, pinching the skin above my elbow as if we were in private and throws me forward so that I stumble. Shit. Are people staring? Am I going to have to pay-? This shouldn't be happening, I shouldn't even be here!

'If you know what's good for you, you'll get moving.' He spits into my hair.

My mouth doesn't do anything but gawp at him. He's just touched me. In front of staff?! In front of customers?! In a strop, I get moving, making sure I get into the office first so I can give it a once over for a weapon. The phone maybe? No that's ridiculous. Maybe the photo-frame of his family sitting on the desk- but I'd have to smash it first.

'You want to give me attitude?! Do you?!' He shouts, his words hitting hard despite the large space between us.

'I'm not working today!' I repeat, infuriated. Why can't I just be a happy so-and-so who just got her car back?!

'Do you think I want you working today, you insolent Bitch?!'

From where he's standing he grabs a packet of paper from the shelf and throws it my way. It's just a wad of pages so it hits me in the face, the staple leaving the tiniest of scratches so that I jump.

Last fucking time, I swear.

My curled fists are starting to unsteady themselves but I do my best to keep my footing rigid. My eyes accidentally look down. It's a form? A holiday form? What?

Now my interest is too disturbed to focus on getting out here. The old man in front is huffing impatiently, annoyed by my lack of urgency so I grab the sheets and look through them. It's a set of forms requesting ten days off starting tomorrow… in my name?!

'Well?! He shrieks, his chins overflowing out of his face.

I'm bent on the floor, scrambling through the white to skip ahead to the last page… with my signature?! I did not fill out a holiday form? How could I? I was only asked about it-

Oh my fucking God. Cullen forged my signature. Wait a minute- it's signed it off. My boss has signed it off? I have ten days holiday?!

'When were you going to tell me?!'

'Tell you what?' I reply calmly. Ten days off?! He'd actually signed it. Is this even happening? I Have time off!

'About this holiday?!'

I don't reply, just keep my hands on the paper and watch ahead. He's starting to pace around me.

'You think this is funny?!'

'No.' I reply quickly. Because I genuinely don't. Though I'm so unbelievably relieved that my chest is almost starting to hurt. All I have to do is get the hell out then I can start my holiday! I have a ten-day holiday! Holiday means time off. Time off means I can work on my piece, I can relax, I can catch up on reading and-

'You don't deserve it.' He mumbles, eyes to the floor as he begins to huff and grunt.

It soon becomes apparent he's winding himself up as we face each other. I look up from the floor and try to take even breaths.

'You've already granted it to me?' I hold the paper back in desperation to protect it from his grubby hands.

'Get on the floor!' He seethes, slamming the door.

Shit.

'No!' My arm reaches out to grab whatever is behind to find it's just the desk so I grip my nails into that, preparing.

He takes measured steps towards me till he is inches from my face, his pig snout trying to touch mine but I lean as far back as I can. He's taller than me by several inches, and wider. And smells vile.

'My Brown-eyes has a temper?' He says delightfully, eyes racking over my several layers of clothing. There's no way he could get me naked without a fight. Far too much material on my body. Finally, an advantage.

'Stop calling me that.' I reply tightly, unaware of the movement of my mouth. He narrows his glare.

'On the floor.' He slams a hand to my shoulder, pushing with all his weight so that I cave and sink miserably to my knees. Eye to eye with his crotch.

'Get off me.' I fight miserably, trying to shake off his grip but he tightens his hand until not only am I immovable, but I'm also in pain. I seem to always be in pain.

His other hand goes to his zip.

No. No. No. No. No…

I keep trying to push away but it's impossible. I can't move back into a desk and I won't move forward-…

My stomach takes a turn, swishing around till I'm green with sickness. With his right hand, he continues to tease himself, holding me close so that I have to witness it all. He pulls himself free from the fabric, moaning aloud as he touches himself, edging closer to my tightly-locked mouth.

The door is thrown open. Tilly comes in, screams into a giggling fit and jumps out the way. But the exposure has done enough to shock him and with the paper in my grip, I scramble out that box room for the sake of my life. She is standing in the hallway, laughing manically, red in the face as she tries to cover up her mistaken giggles but I push past till I've hidden myself in the car and have driven at least forty yards down the street.

Admittedly, I cope much better than yesterday. I don't cry. But I do have to keep breathing loudly through a shaky mouth to stop the tantrum that's threatening to break through. It's getting worse until finally I have to find somewhere to stop in order to silence the nausea.

And guess where I pick.

Miserably, I spend a few moments trying to slow my heart, trying to keep myself in control by gritting my teeth. The shakes take over. They always do, but I focus on only that in order to create a front. It takes a long time, a stupidly long time. Until eventually, I have to get out and pay for parking.

Luckily for me, it's not crazy busy in the hospital and simply through taking a peak into the Emergency Room someone spots me.

'Need any help, Dear?'

I hesitate, she's a nice looking woman, friendly and elderly.

'Err C-Cullen?' I didn't expect to be stammering so badly. 'Looking for C-Carlisle Cullen?'

'Of course! Just take a seat.'

'Wait. I'm not a-' It's too late, she's gone. Fuck.

Unlike a few days ago, when he spots me his first instinct this time is to smile. But the smile turns into a frown and without entering this little waiting area, he wiggles an index finger at me: beckoning me up and beckoning me forward. I duck my head as I pass all these people and quickly hurry over to him, trying to restore a sense of bravery.

'You're early?' He greets with a grin.

'Don't you dare. I'm furious at you now.'

He thinks this is some sort of game and raises an eyebrow trying to hold the smirk. I throw the papers to his chest as though I'm using a stapler. He jumps. Then frowns.

'Don't you dare even laugh, I am livid with you, Carlisle. Do you know how much trouble you nearly got me in?!'

Breathe, breathe, breathe…

He takes the sheets from his chest and looks through them, his eyes widening by the end.

'You had to go collect it?' He guesses.

I roll my eyes in frustration. 'Obviously!'

'Alone?!' He yelps, panicked.

'What did you expect?! Forging signatures is technically a crime!'

'I am so unbelievably Sor-'

For some weird reason I've managed to survive not crying. Or not freaking out. Yelling is helping, I already feel calmer. Though his face- I'm still angry at this twat, What am I saying?!

'You couldn't look smugger!' He looks up at me, his brightly blue eyes and sharp jaw strikingly gorgeous once again. My head hurts.

'I really am sorry.'

'No you're not.' I realise bitterly. He just doesn't fucking think-. I'm about to turn away from him but he grabs my hand to get me to look at him, pleading.

'Esme, I'm serious. I couldn't be more apologetic. I'd never want to put you in any kind of danger.' He promises sincerely, nearly knocking me over with the extent of his endearing face. This bastard.

'Whatever I tell you, I tell you in confidence, not because I want you to act on it!' Why is it taking him so long to realise this!

'I know.' He says miserably.

'You just don't-'

A tall woman has just come up behind him, watching over us like some sort of guardian whose about to jump in and defend him any second. My stature instantly shrinks. As does his. By a margin. He's making Thumbelina look like a giant.

'Doctor Cullen.' She greets with a nod. She's very well dressed: tall and posh looking. Easily in her forties though not one speck of her dark hair is giving away such a detail. Carlisle shrinks even more before sighing and bucking up his ideas.

'Esme, this is Doctor Browning…'

Right?

'Err? Hi?' Yeah, not in the mood for a mother's meeting. We're in the middle of a conversation here.

'Doctor Browning, this is Miss Platt?' He introduces hesitantly.

Miss Platt? Why Miss Platt? What's with the formalities? And why is he looking like he wants to kill himself right now? He couldn't fall any further into his coat if he wanted to. The doctor holds out her hand to shake mine, temporarily putting a file under her opposite arm. She has a delicate touch and a nice smile but her eyes are stern and there's just something about this thing going on that I'm just not trusting. Firstly, Cullen's colour.

'Are you ready?' She asks looking at me rather than her co-worker.

'Me?' I ask confused.

Cullen grimaces. Oh my…

'You are kidding.'

'I'm really sorry!' He says quickly, shrugging a little and stepping back. The lady behind is pointing to a room opposite.

'Exam room 2.'

'What for?!'

'I'm really sorry.' Carlisle repeats. 'I'll make it up to you after, I swear.'

'After what?!' I yell at him. He's already slipping away at speed. 'Cullen?!'

I gawk after him, utterly infuriated and stuck in a state of total confusion. Why is this bitch still pointing to an Exam room?! I stalk past her with a heavy stomp and stand in the middle of the room, arms folded in combat. She closes the door, takes a seat close to me and sighs. I step back.

'So he didn't inform you that he's spoken to me?' She sighs.

'No.' I answer coldly. She rolls her eyes and opens up her file on her lap to start…doodling? 'So?!'

'Hmm?' She says carelessly, refusing to raise even a look my way.

'Why am I in your Exam Room?!'

On second thoughts, this anger is nice. It's taking away from the fact I might pass out from cold blooded disgust.

Doctor Browning shrugs. 'You tell me. You're the patient.'

Fuck this shit. 'No, not at all? I'm not even within the realms of needing to be a patient?! I am perfectly healthy?'

She doesn't reply for a while, just continues to draw, placing a foot on the chair opposite in the knowledge I'm not going to sit down.

'So you're discharging yourself?'

'From what?! I'm not a patient!'

She pretends I've said nothing. Which although infuriating, means I'm forced to calm down a little.

'Why did he want me to speak with you?' I ask eventually, my nose pulling up and my teeth drawing blood from my tongue. Arrogant, selfish, imposing bastard!

She sighs again and looks up to me in disinterest. 'I was under the impression you were in pain?'

'No, I'm fine. Can I leave?!'

She raises an eyebrow and tilts her head at me in a way that is both patronising comforting. 'Quite a quick answer for such an open question, Miss Platt. Sounds like you've had it well-rehearsed?'

Is it older folk who are condescending or just Cullen's buddies?

'Well how long does it take for me to realise if I'm in pain or not?' I snap, trying not to let my lip curl.

'You tell me.'

Eugh.

'I'm fine!' I repeat, angrily, already losing what little of my calm I had left.

'Limping quite a bit for someone who's not in pain?' She murmurs, still not looking my way.

'I'm not limping!' Though my ass has been making it difficult to face anything to do with movement of the lower limbs. 'I have dumpy legs!'

She smirks a little but doesn't stop her interrogation. 'Dumpy legs that only cause you to limp depending on how you walk?'

'And a shit spine.'

She shakes her head, decidedly and pats the brown folder on her lap. 'If it's not on your file, it doesn't exist.'

Is it just doctors who are up themselves? Is it something they teach you a medical school? A: Here's how to stay a virgin B: Here's how to be an asshole about it.

'This is ridiculous!'

'You're quite an angry at the moment, aren't you Miss Platt?'

'I do Not have a temper!' And I'm not fucking Fiesty, either!

'That's not what I said, I said you were angry 'at the moment'.' She corrects.

'Oh well excuse me for being so careless?!'

She smirks again, and puts the file down to share a look with me. I don't know the woman and already she's comfortable enough to grin at me. I'm not happy. It's not comforting. I don't know who the fuck she is, what her fucking problem is or which fucking tool I'll be using to spear my flatmate with.

'I can see why he likes you…'

'Because he likes pain?!' Because I'm going to run him over with my perfectly brilliant car, shove a speculum where the sun doesn't shine and I'll won't even use Edward's lube.

She rolls her eyes which pisses me off once more. 'Honestly, that Cullen such an introvert, I was almost amazed when he claimed he had someone to be fussed over.'

Something in my attitude changes. Not much, I'm still angry. But now I'm angry for different reasons.

'Carlisle's not an introvert?' I retort stiffly.

'A bit of a loner then.'

I glare at her. Was she forty or four?!

'He's not a loner!' I growl. 'He's fine, leave him alone.'

'Pretty rude of him to speak on your behalf, though. Taking over and such?' She surmises to herself, moving her mouth into a sad curve.

'He's not taking over?' I reply. 'It's just what he does, he panics.'

'Condescending, don't you think? Almost misogynistic?'

My jaw falls apart.

'Carlisle is not a misogynist!' I reply hotly. 'The only reason he's brought me in here is because he's concerned! It's actually really thoughtful?!'

Who is this bitch?!

'What's there to be concerned about? You look like can defend yourself?'

'I know that!' I spit through gritted teeth. I take a few unnerved breaths, knowing she's pushing me into her fucking dance and sit on the chair to the right of her feet. She watches curiously.

'Look, some guy just got a little rowdy the other night and he slapped my ass and it hurt. He's clearly just worried….'

She seems amazed I've stopped yelling. 'Did they slap you hard?'

I go to reply but my mouth hesitates. She's patient.

'Well...No…' I watch her carefully. My gut seems to be doing flips and while on one hand I think I'm about to spew my guts, on the other I seem to be weirdly in control.

'Look, whatever judgements you've got of him, just drop it. He's just trying to make me feel better.'

Like he always does, it's hardly his fault he's so sheltered.

'And why do you need to feel better?'

My underhand grips the plastic of the chair and I try and take several more breathers to not go yelling in stranger's faces.

'Because…I'm in a little bit of pain.' I confess, biting on my lip in shame.

'How long have you had the pain?'

I'm a little struck by her mode of conduct. It's suddenly professional except not over professional. Like a down to Earth kind of trusting.

'Since yesterday?' Since when did talking become really easy?

'When the limping started?' She guesses.

'…Essentially.' I reply quietly.

'On your rear?'

I look to the floor to stare at her brown shoes. They're almost like kitten heels which makes me feel a bit sick but then I remember that's really rude and I try to lighten up a little. I nod.

'May I take a look?'

I don't answer for a really long time, thinking.

'Please don't mention this to him.' I hush quietly, standing up and unbuttoning my jeans away from her.

'Patient confidentiality, Miss Platt.' She reminds me with complaint.

'Wait!' I hold out my hand to stop her from coming so close. She raises another eyebrow, allowing me to vent.

'Don't….put this on my file either?' I beg.

She rolls her eyes and throws the paper away to the desk as a reply. I pull the jeans to my knees and hesitate with my underwear but she gruffs and I take the initiative to pull them down too.

I wish I didn't.

'Uh?!' She gasps and I whip my head round to glare at her. 'Sorry, sorry… urm. On a scale of one-ten how bad is the pain?'

'I don't know: four?' Last night I was probably peaking an eight but now with an eerie tone of composure comes no pain. 'I can't sit for too long and I avoid walking too much but it's only been an evening.'

'Right…'

It's awkwardly silent as she stares in horror. I catch a glimpse to see the slight colouring of purple on my side…and with that, I bring my view back. I don't want to see.

'Well, what do you suggest?'

'… Bed-rest?' She guesses with a shrug.

'Excuse me?'

'It's bruised.'

'Obviously.' I snap back. 'What do I do to get rid of it?'

'Invent a time machine. It's a bruise?' Did this bitch even go to medical school or is she some sort of vet? 'I'd sit on some ice to reduce the swelling-'

'Hilarious.' I interrupt.

'Yes, well I'm not joking. Sit on some ice, make sure you don't over-exert the muscle and erm…Rest?'

'That's it?'

'I'm going to be honest, it's worse than I expected. What happened?'

'What happened? Clearly someone went ape on my ass! What does it fucking look like?!' I complain, my voice getting obnoxiously whiny again.

'Well, I would've argued it look like someone hit you?'

'It wasn't like that…it's complicated just forget it.' I glare at her a little harder, my eyes hurting my face. But she allows me to cover up and takes a seat back by the desk, a hand to her mouth, thinking hard.

'So like consensual?' She says in a weird tone. Part of me heaves.

'No!' I half squeal. 'Jesus! Isn't that inappropriate?'

'I apologise, I never meant to imply anything. It just seems like a pretty severe mark for something that 'doesn't' fit under the umbrella of 'abuse'?'

There's a weird sinking feeling in my heart.

'Oh my God, you think this was from Carlisle?!'

'Isn't it?' She replies impatiently.

'You're making assumptions about your co-workers based off of their flatmate's ass?!' Why the fuck would he promote the meeting if he caused the damage?!

She sighs again, watching my response carefully. 'I did say before he is very limited in his friends?'

He's perfectly fine!

'This is not from Carlisle?! For fuck sake, he's wouldn't touch me if I begged!' Getting weird. 'It was from my boss!'

My stomach lurches again and for a few seconds, I have to ignore my surroundings to avoid losing my nerve and upchucking.

Oh….no. But she pulls herself up in her seat. 'Your boss?' She repeats.

Now I've fucked myself over.

'Yea-uh-. Look just don't tell him, please don't tell him. I don't want him to know. He's suspicious enough as it is.'

Breathing is good. I'm going to make sure I do that.

'Why don't you want Carlisle to know?' Why am I word vomiting on this stranger?!

'He just can't know- it's humiliating...' I whimper, panicked.

'So, your boss hit you?' She repeats, still taking her time to survey the scene.

I've taken the seat opposite her, my shoulders slumped, kneading my face with my hands and trying to sniff through my nose. It's coming out in raspy noises which is making it sound like I'm trying to knock myself out. She's watches, concerned.

'I think he's got a bit of a thing for me, that's all.' I mumble under my breath.

Although she isn't writing, she is flicking a pen about while I watch.

'And the feelings aren't reciprocated?'

'Obviously not? Just forget I mentioned it, it's nothing!'

'Has he done anything else inappropriate?'

My brain splits into two. One half replaying the events of today until the room is spinning while the other side tries to distract myself as much as possible.

'This must be really hard for you… I'm sorry' She says slowly taking the point that I'm obviously not going to reply to properly.

'I'm fine.' I insist sourly. 'Look can I just go? I clearly only need ice and 'rest'.'

For fuck sake, how pathetic. Sit on ice? Really?

She smiles a little and starts to write in the corner of a page. Tearing it off in a strip, she hands it to me. It's a number.

'Miss Platt, if I might be so bold, I'd like you to request an appointment at this number.'

'I don't talk to strangers.' I say quickly, ignoring the offering of the slip but it's weird and if I don't take it soon, she might put it into my purse.

'You've just sat and talked to me for forty minutes?' She reassures.

Forty minutes?! How did that happen?!

'Please don't look so alarmed. I really think a therapist might be able to help-'

'I don't need Therapy!' I retort back, standing up again to make a dramatic exit but she puts a gentle hand out, offering the slip. Out of ease I put it into my pocket.

'I'm thinking perhaps it's best to enlighten you. Miss Platt. I am a counsellor. I'm Doctor Browning of the psychiatric department upstairs.'

What?! I showed this bitch my ass- for no reason?!

'I'm not crazy!' I half shriek. Which only makes me sound crazier which is really, really stupid. URGH.

'We never insinuated you were?'

We? We? Oh my- Cullen.

I don't even think, I just stand up and leave as quickly as possible, slamming the door loudly just because I'm so frustratingly humiliated. I can't believe I tried to defend the bastard!