My eyes skimmed over the piece of paper, the printed words sinking inside my brain. The brown folder I held in my hands, was about no other than Sam Blake's. Yesterday, I didn't find the need to read over his information or any of my patients, since I just played a get to know them game.

But now it was time to get serious.

The folder about him, included everything. His age, his date of birth, his parents names, his siblings, his allergies and most importantly...what he was diagnosed with.

Depression.

I wasn't new to the term, but it wasn't something I was familiar with. I read online and heard in class that people felt numb inside. They felt as if they had no purpose in life. Everything around them was just dull. No matter the false laughs and smiles they put on, it just wasn't real.

That's what it said online. But I personally didn't know. I felt as if it was silly to label someone a certain word, to as how they felt. They couldn't help themselves. It could be caused over anything, really. A death of someone close to them, breaking up with someone they love or even feeling as if they didn't belong on this Earth.

I put down the folder, rubbing my left temple. I was coming down with a slight headache and it was only because I never got my usual cup of coffee. I was surprisingly exhausted and I had this longing to crawl back into my bed and sleep.

A loud knock sounded on the door, startling me. I jumped slightly, letting out a heavy breath. Pushing up my glasses, I cleared my throat.

"Come in," I squeaked out, still sounding a little scared. The door turned open and in stepped the familiar face. He was dressed in his usual uniform, his jet black hair combed back and his moustache freshly in shape. My eyes widened in surprise.

"M-Mr Joan's?" I said, coming out more as a question. His eyes landed on me, directly looking through me.

"Belle, my favorite employee." He beamed, chuckling slightly. I mustered up a small laugh.

"What are you doing here? Did you need anything?" I questioned him, straight-forward and a little nervous. He hummed, his eyes glinting as they were on me. I tried not to shift under his uncomfortable stare.

"No, just checking up on you." He grinned, a pair of bright white teeth peaking out. I smiled back.

"Are you liking it around here? Nobody bothering you?" He asked, his brows furrowing slightly. I shook my head, smiling.

"N-No, no, nobody has bothered me yet, but thank you for your concern. And I'm enjoying it, if I'm being honest. It's nice to be able to help people and just to let them know they're not alone. It's a nice feeling." I found myself sharing with him.

His eyes were focused on me, nodding with a few of my words.

"Well, that's great to hear. But just know where to go and what to do if someone tries anything. Alright?"

I nodded my head in response.

"Good," He murmured, glancing around the room as an awkward, heavy silence reigned upon the air. I pushed up my glasses, before tightening my ponytail, just wanting to occupy myself. His eyes landed in-front of me and I curiously followed his gaze.

"Ah, Sam Blake." He muttered harshly. I arched a brow at him.

"You sure that nobody's giving you trouble? Hard to believe after knowing he's one of your patients." He chuckled at his own joke. However, I didn't.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, with a little frown.

"I'm just surprised that's all." He shortly replied. I opened my mouth to say something, but decided against it. Once again, an awkward silence danced into the air and I inwardly hoped he would leave me now.

As if God had answered my prayers, a knock sounded on the door. Both our eyes shot over to the door.

"Come in," I raised my voice slightly. As always, the door turned open and in stepped Marco. Behind him, the man which had been on my mind continuously over the past few days, Sam.

"Your seven o'clock patient is here." He informed me, dragging Sam over to the empty seats. I found myself staring at him, unintentionally, a blush painting onto my cheeks. He just looked so hot with his hood and sweats on.

"Oh, uh, thank you, Marco." I smiled a him. He sent me a curt nod, before leaving the room. I glanced at back at Sam who stood across from my desk, only his were glaring at something. Wait, more specifically - someone.

I followed his gaze, my eyes landing on Mr Joan's. His lips were pursed as he looked down at Sam. A sigh left his lips and his eyes darted back to mine.

"Nice talking to you, Belle. I'll see you around." He lastly said, grinning, before walking out the door.

"You too." I called, mustering up a small smile. When the door closed, my eyes wondered back over to Sam. He was staring at the place Joan's was a standing a second ago. I frowned slightly, clearing my throat in hopes to catch his attention.

"Sam," I softly called after that didn't work. His head snapped over to me, and the glare on his face faded slightly.

"What?" He muttered. I flushed from his harsh tone, standing up on my feet. I searched threw my draws, pulling out the pack of cookies. Only one missing. His eyes beamed as they landed on the paper bag in my hand.

"Y-Your cookie...I thought you'd like to have it now." I hesitantly made my way over to him. When I was a feet away from him, I could smell an alluring scent radiating off of him. It was natural, strong, masculine and delicious. I swallowed a breath.

Carefully, I opened the paper bag and took out a chocolate chip cookie. When I extended my hand out for him to take it, he eyed me, before slowly complying with my action. I hid a smile.

"Thanks," He grumbled, not looking me in the eye.

"It's fine." I smiled at him. We both stood across from each other, none of us moving and when he did look up, I snapped out my stare.

"You can sit over there if you'd like...or we can sit over there." I told him, giving him two options of where he could sit, my hands gesturing around. He bobbed his head in response and soundlessly made his way over the lounge-like-chair.

I pulled out a seat, positioning it across from him. He jumped up onto the lounge chair, the uneaten cookie still in his hand. I took a seat, positioning my notebook and pen in my hands. Clearing my throat, I flipped through the book, searching for the page I made for him today.

"Alright, lets get started." I mumbled.

"If you could rate your mood from one to ten, one being the worst, what would you give yourself?" I softly asked him. I glanced up at him, pushing up my glasses. His jaw clenched with every bite he took from the chocolate cookie, his Adam apple bobbing when he swallowed.

"Five," He flatly said. I nodded, writing down a note.

"So in the middle, not too happy, not too excited?" I asked him. He shrugged, toying with the last bite of the cookie. I pursed my lips, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Is there any specific reason for that?" I carefully asked him, not wanting to tick him off and get a reaction. He eyed me briefly for a second, before shaking his head. I wrote down his reply.

"Well, okay. How was your day? Did you do anything new?" I questioned, leaning further back in my chair. He chewed down the last of his cookie.

"No," He rasped. I tried not to clench my legs together from hearing his tone of voice. It was just so...so manly.

"O-Okay..." I trailed off, knowing for a fact I was blushing. I once again wrote down his response. When I looked up at him, he was arching a brow and his tongue was pushed to his cheek, as if he was suppressing amusement willing to show.

I arched a brow back at him, challenging him.

And his lips twitched slightly, before they fell back into a motionless line. I felt myself sink inside, oddly. I glanced away, blushing and trying to find a reason to as why he was acting like this. And then he spoke.

"Why was that dickhead in here?" His raspy voice questioned. I jumped, slightly startled from hearing his voice. Unintentionally, I blushed, looking at him with a confused, raised brow.

"I-I'm not sure myself...he said he was just here to check up on me." I trailed off. His eyes narrowed slightly and so did his brows. It was a look he put on when he was thinking.

"You really believe that?" He lowly asked. I nodded my head in response, pushing my glasses up.

"Alright." He murmured, and then paused.

"Do you like him?" He suddenly asked, making me freeze. My eyes widened from how blunt his question was. I didn't move or speak for a second, just staring at him in shock.

"Sam...why would you..." I trailed off, snapping out my shock. His eyes narrowed and his lips pursed.

"Do you?" He slowly repeated. I sighed, swallowing.

"No." I whispered.

"Why would you e-even think that? He's my boss." I mumbled, frowning slightly. My reply was a shrug, but his eyes and facial expression said otherwise.

"I don't know, Belle. He just seemed a little friendly with you." His husky voice said. I blushed brightly, shaking my head, vigorously.

"God no, no I don't like him." I repeated myself. A glint waved across his eyes and he slowly nodded. An odd silence waved across the air and I cleared my throat, looking down at my question sheet for him.

"What do you want to be?" I quietly got out, but I knew Sam heard. He shifted on the lounge chair, laying down on his back. Once again, he was in his peaceful position, staring up at the white ceiling, his hands locked with one another on top of his chest.

"What do you mean?" He huskily asked, closing his eyes. I licked my lips which suddenly felt dry. My eyes were solemnly focused on the intriguing man lying across from me.

"What do you want to be...like your dream job?" I added on. A short silence wavered across the air as I watched him think. His lips twitched slightly.

"A boxer." He mumbled. I found myself smiling, a small picture painting in my mind. Somehow I could imagine him fighting. His lean, muscly torso, topless. A victory champion belt in his hand. His legs perfectly fit into silky boxing shorts and his golden orbs boring into mine.

I blushed, shaking off my thoughts. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't exactly innocent when it came to sexual intercourse, since I wasn't a virgin and I had past experiences. But just the thought of a dominating, hard, man like Sam, made me feel like a little girl.

"I can imagine it." I breathed. I watched the corner of his lips twitch a little.

"Really?" He asked, sounding a little hesitant. I nodded my head up and down like an idiot, before remembering his eyes were closed and he couldn't see me.

"Y-Yeah. I'm sure you'd make a good one." I sheepishly commented. A husky laugh left his lips and I was nearly a hundred percent sure my underwear was wet from simply hearing his voice.

"Thanks, I guess." He rasped, licking his lips.

My God.

Forcing myself to write, I wrote down what his dream was, mentally thinking of an additional question to ask him.

"When did you start wanting to be a boxer?" I cleared my throat.

"Boxing was something that always intrigued me. Since I was four I never once missed a match playing on the sports program. Even in here, I try watch it when I can." He told me.

"Is there any exact reason to as why you wanted to be a boxer?" I softly asked, not wanting him to close up on me. There was a pause. I watched as he tensed, his eyes snapping open.

"Yes," He muttered. I tried not to let my eyes widen in surprise.

"W-Why?"

"Because...I was interested..." He paused, trailing off. I didn't say anything, not wanting to feel as if I was putting pressure on him.

"I was intrigued to know how the fighters felt in the ring. I wanted to know what that...that power feels like. I wanted to feel it." He explained to me. My heart doubled in interest in curiosity. I wanted to know why he had this longing to feel powerful during violence.

"It doesn't matter, though. It was a silly dream...I mean, look where I am now. In fucking prison." He humourlessly laughed at what he said. However, I didn't. Instead I frowned and narrowed my brows at him.

"No it's not Sam. Just because you're currently here, doesn't mean when you get out there, you can't live up to your dream." I found myself saying. His eyes snapped open and he tilted his head over to me.

"I-It's not a silly dream, not when it can become a reality. Don't put yourself down, and don't let anyone else put you down. Strive and work for it, you can become whatever you want." I continued to say.

Silence weighed upon the air and I continued to stare at him, awaiting a response. He positioned his head back in its original position, so he was facing the ceiling. I watched him for a second, waiting for him to say something - anything.

"You don't have to lie to me, Belle. I already know if I was out there in the world, say a day from now and I'd be in the position to get my life restarted, I wouldn't be accepted. Nobody wants to work with a criminal, nobody wants to hire a criminal." He flatly said.

"There's no hope for people like me."

The way he said it...pained my heart. He sounded so broken. So fallen.

I was put to a point where I was silenced. I didn't have a response of my own, instead I was letting his words sink in.

"You're wrong, Sam." I whispered. When a knock sounded on the door, I snapped out my thoughts. I didn't reply for a second, still staring at Sam with widen eyes.

"Come in," I managed to choke out, when he knocked again. The door clinked open and Marco strode over to where Sam was sitting.

"Hours up, your next patient is ready." He nonchalantly told me. I nodded my head, clearing my throat. My eyes darted back to Sam, his eyes were focused on the ground beneath him.

"Sam," I whispered. His head shot up. I was going to say something, something to shake off all his negative thoughts. But when I remembered the other sense of presence, I clamped my mouth shut.

"I-I'll see you next session." I mumbled, pushing on a smile. He didn't return it, but his eyes lingered on me. Within a few seconds, Sam was forced from his chair and dragged out by Marco. When the door closed, I slumped back in my chair, dropping my pen on my notepad.

And I realized something then.

He wasn't depressed.

He was just...fallen.

•••••

Hey guys! What did you guys think of this chapter? A little deep, huh? I don't even know where it all came from, literally just made it up. Anyways, thoughts? This book is completely different from ARRANGED, because this will be more focused about Belle and Sam. Meaning no lurking hoes *cough, cough* Janice. Anyways, leave feedback please.