One week later

Another week passed at St: Nicolai and my head was a mess. The sessions with Brandon were moving forward but he was still good at making me very uncomfortable.

His flirty grin and seductive voice was making it hard for me not to completely fall. But since I was psychologically educated, I had the perfect tools to use against him and his tries of manipulation.

Even when I was at home, Brandon took up a whole lot of time from me. I couldn't let him go of my mind. He was something I really hadn't experienced before and I still hadn't figured out why.

Since our sessions began, and I made my promise to him, I hadn't spotted a fresh new wound on his arm one single time.

At the hospital, it was important never to bring anything or have anything near the patients that they could use to hurt themselves or anyone else with.

There weren't even handles on the windows or loose furniture in the patients' rooms. Their beds were screwed to the floor and so were the chairs and desks they had. The only time they were around loose objects, was when they had their free time in the gathering room. And in there, they were always guarded and watched over by the nurses and security guards.

Even though we had all of those arrangements, it wasn't really unusual that patients found ways to hurt themselves anyways.

Brandon was one of those who managed to continue and succeed his self-harm in one way or another.

I was well aware that self-harm was not always about the pain, it was an addiction for many of them. Even though we had many types of therapy for those whose self-harm behavior had gone too far, it didn't always work and sadly they often ended up in the straitjacket.

The straitjacket was always the last alternative for me, because it felt terrible to watch people being stuck and forced into something against their will, even if it was to help them.

But the hospital also had even more rough instruments than the jacket, for people with neurological disorders or unexplainable seizures. Like electric shock therapy, boiling hot tub treatment or lobotomia...

When I walked by Margret's desk down by the reception I laid my eyes on Donald to see if he did the same.

Indeed he did.

I gave him a friendly smile as always when he suddenly waved his hand at me in his direction. I looked at him interrogatively and walked over to him where he stood. It was a routine by now to chitchat with Donald during the breaks or in the morning when we both arrived at work.

He was a very friendly and handsome man, and I knew that he had eyes for me.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Frazier,"

"How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Beverly? But good afternoon to you too, Donald,"

Donald laughed at me and shook his head before he responded to me.

"I'm sorry, Beverly. Just trying to act like the gentleman I am" He used a silly voice before he began to laugh again.

I did the same.

"Well, Beverly. I wanted to ask you something" He broke the funny moment between us and his voice got normal again. Once again, I looked at him interrogatively

"Of course, ask along?"

"Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

I got shocked by his words even though I knew it was just a matter of time until he dared to ask me out.

Due to his flattering compliments and constant flirting every time we spoke, it didn't take long until I realized that his interest in me was growing.

I didn't really know what to answer, I wasn't very ready for a relationship because I wanted to focus on my work which took up very much of my mind at the moment. But Donald really deserved a chance because I knew he was a great guy.

"Yes, Donald! I'd love to,"

His brown eyes got wide and his straight white teeth showed through a big smile. He shined of happiness and I felt glad about making him so happy by just saying yes.

"Really? I mean that's great. Can I pick you up at seven?" It was almost like he just got shy, stumbling over his words like that. But he was sweet.

"Seven sounds perfect! And I'm sorry, Donald but I really have to leave now, I'll see you tonight!" I said while I began to slowly run away towards the elevator when I realized that a session with Brandon would begin in just a minute.

I heard Donald's voice behind me.

"No worries nurse, see you to night!"

I reached the door to ward 5 and stepped inside to walk towards Brandon's cellar door.

As always, my stomach turned before I stepped inside. I was still not really used to him nor the thoughts about sitting right before one of the most graphic murderers in England.

This was the first meeting with him this day, so I hadn't seen him since Friday. The patients usually got their rest and much more free time during the weekends, so there were no sessions for the nurses to attend on Saturday or Sunday.

The nurses who were working on the weekends were just there to watch over the patients and to handle situations like seizures, outbursts, fights, or mental breakdowns. They also made sure that the patients got their medication, which they needed every day.

I stepped inside Brandon's cell and met with the beautifully scary creature that sat right at the same spot as always.

His messy natural curls were hanging over his forehead, which made him look like a fallen angel. He moved his brown eyes up to meet with my own when he heard the door get opened. His sad eyes suddenly turned into something seductive when he looked so deeply into mine.

My heart began to race and I realized how I just described him as an angel in my head.

But by the way he looked, any woman would lie to say that he was not attractive, because he was. Even if he was a murderer.

He was almost too attractive.