starting over /*Silas [CLOSED]

The man with the blonde hair sighed. His suit jacket was neatly folded and placed on the back of his large, leather chair. The air that afternoon was thick with the musty smell of dying foliage. A plant sat in the near-by corner, it's extremities pale and browning. It seemed as though the maintenance crew hadn't been in that week to quench this poor creature's thirst. Shaking his head from side to side as he examined the plant, Silas walked over to the front of his desk. There, a small glass of water sat in the only shaded part of the bright room. Silas's hand wrapped around the glass firmly and lifted it from it's place. He brought it over and poured it's contents onto the dry earth. It was almost as if the soil sizzled at the mere drop of water. Nodding his head gently, Silas's mouth curled into a small smile. There was going to be hope for this little plant and soon, he would grow into a strong adult plant and live a long life.

Soothed with the thought of this plant's new life, the thirty six year old walked back around to the grand leather chair located behind his large desk. He thought it would be best to prepare himself for his next appointment. He had just gotten out of a very uplifting conversation with a young pyromaniac and manic-depressive. He did truely believe that she was getting better, just by the way her gestures and responses were. She was beginning to understand where her troubles were coming from and she was starting to open herself up to Silas. That is was he loved the most about his field of work. He was able to convince hard-headed and strong minded individuals that they could get better, with time of course. Time was always the issue with these types of people. They wanted to get better, but they wanted to get better right away. Unfortunately that wasn't how the world worked.

Sighing to himself, Silas's long fingers fluttered through the documentation his secretary had brought him a few hours ago. He found the one that was labeled: "3:45 pm, JONES, JAX, 689521". He didn't recognize the patient's name and quickly came to the conclusion that he was a new one. It was always a challenge for Silas to encounter a new patient. There was always a sense of urgency, a sense of need. Silas wanted to help everyone that came through his door, but he soon realized that, that was a difficult task to achieve. The most that he could do without fixing them was to just talk. Have a normal and human conversation with these people. They were just like him, just a little different. That was all.

Silas sat in his throne and opened the file. Interesting, he thought silently to himself. As he read on, Silas's hand felt it's way around his desk. What was he looking for?

"DAMN IT!" He yelled as the hot liquid brought him to his feet. The coffee his hand was looking for had finally appeared all over his lap. The heat of the drink was excruciating, making Silas dance in a silly manner. The yelp of distress and anger brought his secretary rushing to his aid. She saw the damage and couldn't help but let a small chuckle release itself from her plump pink lips. The chuckle rumbled through the office. She marched over with paper towels and handed a few to Silas, who began to pad himself down as she worked on the desk. It only took a few minutes until the job was complete.

"Thank you Sylvia. I appreciate the help." She gave him a quick nod before returning to her duties. Looking down upon his now stained slacks, Silas sighed. And those were my only nice pair too, he thought again. Grumbling to himself for a few minutes, the young therapist sat back in his chair and finished up Jax Jones' file. The young man didn't seem too troubled, but you never judged a book by it's cover, especially in this line of profession. Just as Silas was turning to the last page of his file there was a faint knock at the door. Silas told the person to come in and he closed the file. He looked at his gold watch. Right on time. A few moments later, there was a young man in his doorway.

This young man had long black hair, bright eyes, sad eyes. He was taller, and quite thin. Not lanky, but thin. The way he was positioned in the doorway spoke a thousand words to Silas. With a faint smile and a welcoming gesture, Silas motioned for Jax to take a seat. He wanted this boy to feel the most comfortable with him. If he was more comfortable with standing, then Silas would stand. If laying on the floor was his thing, Silas would lay as well.

"Thank you dear, I will take it from here," he said to the "guard" and watched as the door closed behind Jax, confining him to this small room. Letting out a sigh of relief, Silas stood up from his seat.

"Welcome Jax, I'm Dr. Rhys, but you can just call me Silas. Or doctor... Which ever is most comfortable to you," he started, "Would you like to take a seat? Perhaps grab something to drink?" Again, comfort was the utmost importance here.