"I advised you to stay on the medication."

A faint sorry was uttered from a white-haired male's lips but it was obviously not heartfelt. The male in question was smiling like a fool, rocking back and forth on the comfortable couch. The office itself was meant for comfort, especially as patients needed to be at ease in their environments. Small plush toys were scattered around the room with fluffy coats and peaceful appearances, particularly for that male. He always needed something to hold on to.

"You keep saying that, but I have evidence to suggest you feel otherwise," the (h/c) haired woman sighed, "Is there a reason you don't take your pills?"

"I don't need them, dearest."

The girl in question sighed, pulling up the male's previous history on the computer. There was little question about the need for medication. The male was in the custody of the state government for his crimes but was never truly convicted for them. Rather, he had been placed in a maximum-security insane asylum. There were many protests about it, especially after all the people he had killed or injured in all of his stunts.

In fact, the first time he had been brought to the (h/c) haired woman's office, it was in a straightjacket. Most, if not all the time, he was restrained in such a way, not being trusted in the slightest. If not for his violence towards others, then there was great concern about himself. He had suffered severe depression since his early childhood, attempting to kill himself over ten times in their custody alone. The male possessed abandonment issues and exhibited much more violence than was normal even in mental asylum patients. Thus, there was a lot of work cut out for the woman.

"Well, now, I know that isn't true," she hummed, scrolling down the page and beginning to type, "Have there been any side effects?"

"Love," the male giggled, his cheeks a bright pink.

"Let's see. I removed you from Prozac to Lexapro. Increased your dose from one pill to one and a half after your breakfast meal. Is it that it's not effective? Perhaps if we up the dose, it will give a greater result."

"Nothing can make me feel as perfect as I do with you, dearest."

The (h/c) haired woman only continued to ignore the male's rantings. It wasn't unusual for patients to develop unhealthy attachments to their therapists or psychiatrists. Thus, she dismissed it, knowing it was the most effective way to remain professional and helpful. That being said, she could not be able to help him as it were. He refused to continue taking his medication on his own. The guards had to hold him down and force him to take them by court order.

"Do the pills taste bad?"

"Not when I'm with you," the male cooed.

"Then are you worried about becoming addicted to your medication? You do have a tendency to attach to things rather easily."

"And you, dearest."

(Y/n) sighed, turning off the computer and making her own notes on the subject. He was certainly not the easiest patient that she had on her plate, but, when put in perspective, she did have many unstable individuals in her care. Compared to some of the others that constantly threatened her and made crude comments, the white-haired male was somewhat of a blessing in disguise, not that she would tell him. Above all, she wished to remain professional.

"Since you clearly aren't giving me any information today, we'll have to see one another a different day, Takashi," the woman sighed, "Guards, please come in."

The white-haired male gave a frown, pouting even as he was placed in restraints by the guards. Not trusted with his own body, the straight jacket prevented him from both harming himself or others though namely the latter. He gave a regretful gaze over his shoulder at the working (h/c) haired woman. The male hated to leave her, but he wasn't permitted to spend all of his time with her.

Immediately, he was thrown into the cafeteria with the rest of the mental patients. They liked to call it a rehabilitating facility for unfortunate peoples, but it might as well have been a prison. The federal system liked to call it that, especially as most everyone in those walls were dangerous criminals, murderers, or rogues, sometimes all three. Violence among inmates was typically met with extreme brutality but the result was the same if the guards never interfered in the infighting or not.

The white-haired male hummed, trudging his way over to a chair. Sitting down, he found that a few of his comrades were with him. They weren't what he would have called friends or chums, but they did keep him company in the moments where he wasn't with his psychiatrist. It was nowhere near the high he got from her presence, however. Nonetheless, it was better than nothing. Where they were, loneliness could make a man go mad. Well, madder.

"You look happy," a person snapped, a cross look on their face as they stare at the white-haired male to their left, "Why?"

"My dearest was so beautiful today," the male chuckled, rocking back and forth as a drunk flurry of giggles escaped his lips, "Oh, she was so serious and cold...but I just know she'll accept my love sooner or later!"

There were no comments on the male's delusional nature. It was only natural to act as such when in the insane asylum, especially as a cold-blooded killer. At the same time, everyone knew to maintain their distance from others. In particular, Takashi was known to snap at the drop of a hat. It meant little to him to spill blood, and in most situations, he preferred it to coat everything near him. Strangely enough, it was a symbol of his pride.

"I don't like her," one of the other patients huffed, "She's like a therapist but she doesn't care about your feelings. Instead, she just shoves chemicals down our throats. You would think she'd be a little nicer."

"That's the beauty of it," the white-haired male chuckled, "she doesn't have to be nice. Your feelings aren't worth her valuable time. Doesn't it send shivers down your spine?"

The other patient narrowed their eyes at the harsh words that the male spat with a cruel smile. It didn't sit well with him to be ridiculed. In fact, he rather despised it, wondering how he could get away with beating the smug bastard to death. Then again, it would only give further ammunition for the (h/c) haired woman to use him as a human guinea pig. She'd shove pill after pill in him and watch him pop. The worst part of it would be the fact that she wouldn't take amusement out of it. She wouldn't smile. She would only jot down her notes and continue life as normal.

"I think she's come up with a way to scramble your brain enough to make you fall in love with her," the other patient growled, jabbing at the white-haired male's forehead in an accusatory manner, "It'd be the only way to get anyone to feel something for her sick personality."

Takashi smiled, giggling at the remark, but within an instant, he had jabbed his fork into the patient's chest, twisting it painfully and he dragged it down his torso. He noted the guards were rushing towards him, but he was determined to have his fun first. Taking advantage of the situation, he let his creativity flow, ripping out the male's intestines and almost painting with them. Of course, he wasn't allowed to finish it, the guards attempting to subdue him with stun guns.

He rather disliked the feeling of the shock coursing through his body, especially as it came with additional pain. As such, he shook it off, twisting it out of the guard's hand and using it against him. The man convulsed in pain, but the white-haired male was not keen on letting him be freed of the dreadful experience. Quite the opposite, he tested how long he could endure it. After all, the special brand stun guns the asylum were incredibly powerful to minimize any patient massacres. Clearly, they hadn't counted on them being conscious of what they were doing.

Nonetheless, seeming as he had more time on his hands before more guards rushed him, the male grabbed a spoon from the table and gouged the guard's eyes out. Takashi had attempted to make it perfectly whole when he pulled the first out, but it ended up popping. As such, he threw it behind him, uncaring of what was to become of it. He then proceeded to try for the second, using careful precision.

That being said, he didn't have access to a well of time, meaning he had to prioritize speed. Again, the eye popped, and he huffed angrily. With the flock of guards coming his way, it was unlikely for him to defeat them. He, more or less, was going to be held in solitary confinement for his uproar. After all, he had killed one of the other patients and the guard writhing in agony on the floor would never be the same.

However, as he was tackled to the floor, he smiled as if nothing had happened at all. Yes, he was very proud of himself for taking out someone who would attempt to besmirch the (h/c) haired woman's name. The guard was just another source of entertainment, likely a reward for his work. If he had ended up needing more pills for the outburst, Takashi would have been overjoyed. It was only another excuse to see the psychiatrist again.

. . .

At that point, the white-haired male had been in solitary confinement for a week. While he hadn't expected it to take a toll on him, it didn't occur to him that it meant he would see (Y/n) either. With the other patients and guards, he wouldn't have cared, but he practically lived for their appointments. For entertainment, he began banging his head on the wall, wondering if he was near death if they would let him out. The answer was no.

Only when his seventh day of solitary confinement ended was he placed in a straight jacket and carted off to the (h/c) haired woman's office. When the door opened, his heart soared, and though he struggled to get the restraining device off of him to hug her, it wouldn't budge. The guards also made certain they were in the room with their guns aimed at his head. If he made any sudden movements, he would have been killed on impact.

"Ah! I've missed you so very much, dearest!" he shivered, his eyes glossed over in absolute joy, "It was torture, I tell you...Someone needs to pay."

"Yes, I believe you're correct."

Takashi's eyes lit up in admiration for her agreement. He knew she would understand his intentions and come to know his intense affection for her. Perhaps, to further the luck the male experienced, she would free him from his chains and help him escape. Then they could live a life together where no one bothered to ever interfere. It would be paradise, everything as it should be, and ever-lasting throughout any events that may transpire. Nothing would tear them apart. Even death.

"But I believe that someone is you, Takashi," the (h/c) haired woman continued, giving a disappointed look at the male.

It practically broke his heart to see her look at him in such a way. He must have mistaken himself in her first statements, but still, it hurt him. Not to have his paradise was torture, and he didn't know if he could wait further. Being patient was never something he was very good at. Neither was controlling his emotions. He would be lying if he said that he didn't want to murder the guards and steal her away. Even if his paradise wasn't given to him, he could still make it, couldn't he?

"I don't think your pills are strong enough and I also think you haven't been taking them. It might also be a matter of needing therapy as opposed to medication."

"What are you saying?" the white-haired male frowned, his lip quivering, "I-I'll take the pills, I promise, dearest."

"Unfortunately, I can't trust that. You seem to misunderstand our relationship here. As a professional, I should remind you. I am not a therapist. I seek to assist your troubled nature on a biological level as opposed to on a mental level. Your attachment to me is beyond unhealthy."

"That's not fair! I love you! I would do anything to make you believe me! I-I-I only did what I did so I could protect your honor!"

The (h/c) haired woman continued to scribble down notes, likely to assist the therapist that would take on the male's case. Certainly, he would be quite the challenge. His nature was volatile at best and murderous at worst, even to the point of genocide. It would have been difficult to survive the things he tried to do, but with guards there to protect the therapist, the efforts would be made meaningless.

"I have a woman I used to work with. She's a renowned therapist that is especially good with cases such as yours. I believe she would be far more effective than your medication. A transfer of location will be made next month."

"No, please reconsider!" Takashi begged, tears coating his cheeks, "I promise, I promise, I'll take the pills and I'll be a good boy. I won't even think about hurting another person. In fact, I'll be nothing but kind! Just please keep me with you, dearest!"

(Y/n) gave a rough sigh, massaging the bridge of her nose. There was clearly a need for therapy as opposed to pills or other scientific remedies. It was especially due to the male's split-second decisions that made her doubt his promise. The matter couldn't have been solved with a simple promise or two. It could easily be broken and another patient or more guards could have been blinded or even killed.

"I have no logical reason to trust that."

"T-Then every day come to my cell. I'll take my pills and you can make sure I do. Give me a week to make significant progress in my behavior and you'll see I mean it! You can even keep me locked up in solitary confinement!"

The (h/c) haired woman once more gave a sigh, but that time, it was far less harsh and more intrigued. She was clearly unused to the idea of a patient fighting to stay in the asylum. While many refused therapy or pills, it was unusual for one to be obsessed with them. Even if it was the fact that he was more attached to the person that assigned the medication, it was still unusual and tempting to experiment with.

"I will arrange for the transfer in a month," she declared, placing her pencil down on the desk while the male prepared his argument with a pleading expression, "so convince me you don't need intense therapy and I'll call it off. You can remain here for the rest of your sentence. Fail to do so, and you'll be sent off, likely for the rest of your life. You'll never see me again."

"Then I swear, I swear, I swear," Takashi cried, a joyful smile on his face, "I'll do everything you say, dearest!"

It was indeed a surprise that the male stayed true to his word. He didn't step a foot out of line, becoming the model patient and even performing good deeds. Every morning he would wake up, eagerly waiting for his daily pills. The (h/c) haired woman handed them to him with a cup of water, assisting him as he was restrained. His cheeks were always flush pink, his eyes shaking with adoration. With no resistance whatsoever, he took his medication and though he despised the taste, the sight of (Y/n) made it somehow sweet and flavorful.

That morning, in particular, prompted the male to be filled with nerves. As if to test him further, she had not told him if she was going to send him to another asylum or not. It was the fourth week and he obediently sat on his bed, eagerly awaiting the (h/c) haired woman's presence. She was still ensuring he took his medication regularly, after all. It could have very well been his last day with her and she hadn't shown. It made him tense to think that he wouldn't ever see her again. However, as he heard her voice approaching, he sat up straight.

"Good morning, dearest!" he grinned, a tingly feeling in his chest that combined his nerves and joy at seeing her, "H-Have you decided what you'll do with me?"

"Take your medication first and foremost."

The white-haired male obeyed adoringly, opening his mouth for her to place the circular pill in his mouth. She then allowed him to drink water, letting him swallow it down obediently. Checking with a thermometer to see if he hadn't just merely hidden it, she sighed, acknowledging that he had indeed stayed true to his promise. There had been no uproars from him and he had been taking his medication. It was a pleasant surprise.

"N-Now, p-p-please tell me what you decided! I can't bear the suspense!"

"I suppose it's only fair," (Y/n) hummed, placing her hands on her hips, "I have instructed my former co-worker to work here for your benefit. She will give you therapy, as you clearly need, but you may remain here and have normally scheduled sessions with me."

Takashi's face fell at the news. It was not good news nor was it terrible news. It was simply news. He had gained the right to stay with his dearest, but, in exchange, he had to participate in something he had no desire to do. Truth be told, it was as if the (h/c) haired woman wasn't taking his feelings for her seriously and it crushed him inside. He had hoped she would gain respect for his obedience to her, but she dismissed him.

The moment she left his cell, he balled his fists in anger and punched the wall until he bled from his knuckles. He had never been so infuriated with her, never even had such negative emotions associated with her. Frankly, they disgusted him as did the waste of time he incurred from trying to prove himself to her. The male only knew he needed something to take his anger out, and until he was able to escape from that prison, he had to play along like the obedient little fool she thought he was. It would only be a matter of time before he revealed how wrong she was, and he will have achieved paradise without the help of her little pills.