Kim Namjoon read through the notes he’d received on his next patient. Min Yoongi, 24 years old, was a newly transferred patient suffering from extremely severe depression and social anxiety. According to his notes, Mr. Min was known to be fashionably late to just about everything, including appointments. Namjoon frowned. His schedule was very busy today, and Min was already 10 minutes late.

Namjoon jumped as his intercom came on. “Your next patient has arrived.” his secretary’s voice sounded exasperated. She deserved a day off.

“Thank you, please send him in.”

“Of course, Dr. Kim.”

 

Min Yoongi stood in yet another waiting room, pretending to listen to the tired secretary’s directions. He’d lost her at the first ‘sign this’. He nodded half-heartedly every few seconds or hummed any time she said the word okay with a questioning tone. He looked up from the stack of papers he’d been handed when he realized she’d quit speaking. She was looking at him expectantly. “What was that?” He asked softly, in hopes he wasn’t too obvious.

“Dr. Kim’s office is down the hall and to the left. It has his name on the door, so it’s fairly obvious which is his.” The secretary repeated. Looking at her face, he saw stress creases and dark circles to match his own.

Yoongi nodded, straightening out the papers in his hand. “Thank you.” He said, looking in the direction she was pointing in. To his left was a dimly lit hallway, with a few doors on either side. He took a couple steps in that direction, before glancing back at the secretary. She smiled at him softly. Yoongi turned around and made his way down the hall.

He felt a bit more comfortable by the time he reached the corner. The hall was dark, relaxing him a bit. He could hear the faint sound of recorded rain coming from a machine he’d passed earlier. Usually, therapy buildings were unsettling and made Yoongi feel like a mental patient, but it wasn’t so bad in here. He was almost calm.

...And then he turned the corner. Like the secretary had said, to the left was a door with the name “Dr. Kim Namjoon” on a little plaque. Yoongi felt his entire body freeze up all over again. That’s right. He was only there because something was apparently wrong with him. God.

Yoongi took a deep breath and knocked. After a couple seconds of waiting, the door opened. There stood a man who looked to be about Yoongi’s age, a couple inches taller with strawberry blonde hair and… interesting fashion…

The man held out his hand. “Kim Namjoon.” He introduced himself. Yoongi took his hand. The man had a firm grip, and Yoongi struggled somewhat to keep up.

“Min Yoongi.” For some reason, it felt strange saying his own name. , it sounded strange saying anything. “Nice to meet you.” He managed out.

Dr. Kim smiled sympathetically. He was probably used to shy clients. Yoongi wasn’t shy, of course, but still. Talking is hard. “Please, come in.” Dr. Kim offered, gesturing into his office. Yoongi stepped into the office.

“Have a seat wherever.” Dr. Kim plopped down onto a chair by the desk against the wall connected to the hall. Yoongi sat on the couch. It was more of a loveseat really, but whatever. The fabric was white and silky. To Yoongi’s left was a plush armchair and to his right was the door. Directly in front of him was a white bookshelf filled with books of various genres. Above it rested a plush Ryan and Dr. Kim’s Master’s Degree.

Dr. Kim, was, of course, the one to initiate conversation. “So, Mr. Min, how was the trip to my office? I assume the staff didn’t give you any trouble?” His tone was calm and deep, and strangely soothing.

Yoongi shook his head. “Your secretary was really helpful.” He responded softly, choosing not to look at the man. Instead, he looked at the bookshelf, analyzing the titles and noting which ones he’d previously read.

Upon noticing a strange silence had enveloped the air, Yoongi looked up and saw, for the second time that hour, someone looking like they were expecting a response. “Um, what was that?” His voice was stronger now.

Yoongi noticed a small smile on Dr. Kim’s face and adorable dimples on his cheeks. Suddenly, all of Yoongi’s fears and worries disappeared and he got the strange feeling that he was melting, a barely noticeable smile playing on his own lips. “I asked if you enjoy reading; you were staring at my bookshelf,” Dr. Kim repeated.

“Oh.” his voice was practically normal, his heart rate finally slowing down. Books were something he could talk about. “Um, yeah, though I’d rather write.” He shifted nervously, eyes on the floor. Was that too personal? Should he have said that?

“So you’re a writer,” Dr. Kim observed. Yoongi glanced up for a second to see him writing something in a notepad, and his heart was pounding all over again. Dr. Kim noticed Yoongi’s stares, and he blushed slightly. “I’m sorry about that, it’s a bit instinctual. I’ll stop.”

“Thank you.”

“I got a bit ahead of myself there. Please forgive me for that.”

Yoongi shrugged. “It’s fine. But can you, like, explain procedures here or whatever? That’s all I care about right now.”

Dr. Kim looked a bit shocked at Yoongi’s bluntness but nodded anyway. “Alright. Procedures. I assume you know your rights of privacy?”

“Something about you not being able to give out my information to the public, right?”

“Put simply, yes. All information you give to me is confidential, with few exceptions. Said exceptions are if I fear you intend on doing harm to yourself or someone else. In that case, I’m obligated by law to give your information to the authorities.”

Yoongi nodded. “So I shouldn’t tell you if I plan on murdering someone?” Oh no, he said that joke aloud. He forced himself to smile, so his attempt at humor wouldn’t be taken the wrong way.

Dr. Kim laughed, to Yoongi’s surprise. “Pretty much, yeah. One more thing; you have to give up your information to the court if you want to sue us.” Dr. Kim’s face had softened at Yoongi’s joke, and he was glad to know the doctor appreciated his dry sense of humor.

“Your name is Kim, right? Should I call you that?” Yoongi spoke up, feeling much more relaxed.

The man shook his head. “Just Namjoon is fine. Since you asked, I assume I’ll be seeing you again?”

“I think so, yeah. Might cancel if it’s my day to cook.”

“Same time next week then?”

“Deal.”