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[ Tim’s been coming here every summer since he was a teenager. Every year, the rooms seem to shift a little bit, but he does know where he’s going, and finds Will’s office without issue. He's wearing short shorts and a tank top with plenty of chest hair poking through, and some live bites (and just plain bite marks) visible on his neck and shoulders. So what? It’s summer. ]

Hi. [ Taking the sunglasses from his face and folding them closed, hanging them on the front of his tank. ] Um, thanks for seeing me on such short notice.

[ This is good. It’s the new millennium, it’s a perfectly normal and healthy thing for a man to go to therapy. It doesn’t make him crazy, but he feels crazy, like everything that’s been bottled up over the last couple months (decades) is about to come loose with enough force to level the entire manor. And that can’t happen. Maybe this can help. ]

I’ve done this a couple times before but it was, uh. Court-appointed. I wasn’t taking it seriously. But I want to, now.

Going to therapy because you're told to is often not productive. Please, take a seat wherever you're most comfortable.

[ he rises from the desk and moves to shut the door behind them, locks it for the sake of privacy. how many times has he had koby or a staff member come busting in the door with little regard for it being shut. the woes of public spaces.

he returns to the seating area and takes up an arm chair. he leaves the notebook behind for now - better to get to know teo, even though he knows enough already. or some, at the very least. he's dressed like he's ready to go back out into the sun for some kind of party - the sunglasses, the tank, the sun-kissed skin. ]

I'm here to listen - tell me about yourself, Mr. Salvatore. Or dive in with both feet if you'd like to get to work right away.

[ He takes a seat in an armchair across from him, cool leather soothing against the sunkissed skin that’s spent all morning by the lake, staring out into the middle distance. Tell me about yourself sounds so basic, but he’s got to start somewhere, doesn’t he?

Teo leans back, sinking into the cushion, and cradles the coffee he brought with him against his chest. ]

I just graduated with a degree in history and sociology. It took me an extra year because I got in trouble a few times. I’m an activist. My friends and I have performed some actions that some people think are extreme. I wasn’t even planning on being here this year, but my parents insisted because a sex tape I made last fall got out. My grandfather died only a month ago but somehow people seeing my ass is the worst thing to ever happen to this family.

[ He steeples his fingers against the warm side of his cup, trying very hard, and failing even harder, not to let any bitterness seep through. Teo knows what his problem is. But he can’t deal with any Freudian, cliche bullshit like his daddy didn’t love him enough and now he’s broken, sorry. Every Salvatore believes the world revolves around them, and hell if he’s going to prove his father right. ]

I sabotage my relationships. Every time they get too close I get cold feet or push them away. I want to figure out how to stop doing that.

[ everything about teo across from him reeks of someone waiting to bolt - or to make a decision to be anything but the young man in the chair spilling his life story. it's an energy that heightens his own senses, not unlike predator and prey. but he tilts his head, listening, eyes dropping to the cup between teo's palms. ]

You'll spill it.

[ it's all he says in response at first, but offers a warm smile. ] If you want to figure out how to stop pushing people away, you'll need to first identify what frightens you.

[ and then, a little more frankly: ] Your parents sound like controlling prudes. That's always a bad start.

[ Expecting him not to wave his cup around is anti-italian discrimination. But, he relents, taking a small sip from it before leaving it on a side table within reach. Will’s next words nearly make him recoil, as if he’s smelled something rotten. What frightens him? They just met.

He can talk about his parents, though. He’s certainly complained to less willing audiences. ]

Try just...absent. She’s already left him for his brother, but even when she was around, she wasn’t really. I mostly see her when she decides to lecture me for making her look bad. My dad just works. Sometimes he tries, but it’s always years too late. They hate each other and pushed me off on nannies and boarding schools and my nonno. Who's gone, so.

[ He pauses. Is this normal, to just blather out the cliff notes of his entire life so the good doc can slap a bandaid on it? He doesn’t know, he never asked Koby how the actual therapy part was supposed to go, he just asked if the dick was good. Teo shuts his eyes, just for a second. Maybe it’ll pass as a long blink. ]

And they’re finally getting a divorce, so they care more about who gets what than the fact that he’s gone.

[ a mother who has turned to her husband's brother, a divorce being finalized between two likely emotionally stunted egotists. and yet they have managed to have a son who still wants to see good in the world. interesting. ]

Their priorities don't match your own and they're not willing to meet you in the middle. Too little too late. Their egos are more important than their child.

[ he shifts in his seat, tilting his head. he knows a little bit about teo simply by way of koby, but putting all the pieces together now makes their friendship make even more sense. ]

Usually a therapist would ask how it makes you feel, but I don't see the value in that here. Close your eyes again. Try to relax if you can - something tells me you don't often get quiet, safe places away from the noise of their drama. So rest your eyes for a moment.

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sorry i legit never got the notif for this

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