The moment the door closed, I jumped up, practically tripping over my own feet as I made my way to the face-down clipboard. I could feel my heart racing as I turned it over, my eyes darting to the door.

Curiosity killed the cat Rebecca

There was a yellow sticky note wedged underneath the top of the clipboard, handwritten in swirled lettering. I froze for a moment, processing the implications of it. I tried to scan the document below it, the official government seal. It had my name, birthdate, career. Underneath it listed reasons for referral.

How did she know I was going to look?

There was a beep from the door, a key-card being scanned. I quickly turned over the clipboard, stumbling back towards my seat and throwing myself against it just as the door clicked open. My mind was racing from scenarios circling in my head.

I turned to see Jake arriving with Hannah, trying to hide my panting. When my eyes met with Jake, I could see there was confusion as he looked around the room. Hannah moved to the lounge chair, dragging it to place it beside mine. Behind her desk, there was a chair which she wheeled to the front.

"Right," she grabbed her clipboard, her eyes darting across mine for a moment. She unhooked the yellow note from the top, scrunched it in her hand before carelessly tossing it in a small waste bin beside her desk. She clicked her pen again, looking to Jake, "Would you like to take a seat?"

"Am I not getting individual therapy?" he asked hesitantly, taking a seat beside me. Hannah looked at him for a moment, her eyes drifting down the page. When she looked back at him, she appeared a lot colder.

"Apologies, according to this I cannot provide that. If you have an issue with this I'd suggest bringing it up with your Law Enforcement Coordinator," she said, and Jake slowly nodded, sinking back into the chair with a frown. I didn't know what his work had to do with therapy.

Or if it had anything to do with mine.

"Now, in typical situations, it can take months to grow close to a partner," she began, crossing her legs again. Her eyes glazed over to me now, and I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, "However, given Jake's unique job position, it's recommended that you two try and create a strong bond within the next few weeks,"

"What does his job change about anything?" I asked, sitting forward. Hannah looked at me, clicking her pen. I felt as though I should have kept my mouth shut, remembering the note that I had seen. It was as though she was trying to remind me of the note too, just by looking at me.

But it just made me want to know what was being hidden.

"I'm afraid that's classified," she said slowly. She looked down at her notes, writing something, before turning over the page, "Now as it is still early days, I believe it is crucial that you two begin to know one another further. So I would like you two to face one another,"

Jake and I stood awkwardly, dragging the chairs to face inwards. When we sat back down, I found it odd to see Jake in such casual attire. And of course, because my mind seemed to hate me, I found myself thinking back to that night and I sank back into my chair.

"There will be three sets of questions," Hannah said, standing up. She unclipped a set of papers from her clipboard and placed it down delicately onto the table, "Take it in turns asking and answering the questions. Once complete, stare into one another's eyes for four minutes in silence. Once done, the door will be open and you may leave,"

She made her way to the door, but once more before she left, she hesitated. I noticed she was carrying the clipboard this time, leaving only Jake and I alone with these set of papers. When she closed the door, I heard the click of a lock. The room fell to silence.

I picked up the paper from the table, the government seal on the same place as the other documents. When I looked at it, I saw three sets of questions, a total of thirty-six. Looking to the start, I read out the first question, breaking the veil of silence.

"One. Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest? This may include decreased or living," I read out the question, perplexed at the reasoning behind it. But it was the question given regardless. Jake furrowed his brow for a moment.

"Oh, I know," he moved forward, adopting a more comfortable position, "I'd want to sit down and have dinner with Liam Hunter, the New Europe leader who started world war three. I'd ask him why? I always wanted to know why he couldn't have just held his tongue. What about you?"

I thought for a moment. There were many people who I would love to sit down and have dinner with, of course, but there was one answer which seemed to triumph above all else.

"Marie," I said, her name catching in my throat for a moment, "I'd love to just talk to her again. She was my friend who disappeared a few years ago,"

There were a few common questions that followed, mostly asking things about dreams and perfect ideas of something. Theoretical scenarios and ideas. Question 8 asked what things we shared in common. Jake said that we both cared about things deeply, we both had similar morals and we both shared a similar sense of humor.

And I couldn't help but agree with him.

We started set two questions, which began with a scenario of knowing the truth. If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know? We both had paused, running the question over in our minds.

"The future," he said finally, "I feel like myself and my life are things I just don't want to know the truth about... but it would always be nice to know where I was going and if I was doing the right thing,"

And once more, I couldn't help but share his answer.

"What do you value most in a friendship?" I asked question sixteen, feeling my stomach clench. He paused, letting out a sigh. There was a new heaviness to the room which hadn't been there in the earlier questions. It seemed the second set of questions were a lot more intense than the first.

"Honesty..." he said finally, but he avoided my gaze, "I guess that's- probably surprising given my shitty track record at it. But I do. And I really want to start being more honest... otherwise, how am I supposed to expect that in return?"

"I think forgiveness is important too..." I added, shifting in the armchair. I couldn't help but glance towards the door as I continued, "Sometimes people mess up... almost always someone messes up. And I think acknowledging that and learning to move past it really shows true friendship..."

As the questions moved on, I found myself learning a few more things about Jake Morris. I discovered that his worst memory, which was once watching the war scare on TV, had become holding the boy in his arms before he was shot. I found out that he thought I was brave, despite me thinking I was a coward.

As the questions moved on to set three, it felt as though the room smelling of warm milk and honey had become my new life. These questions making me think of my own morals and beliefs, alongside the boy I sat in front of. There remained eleven questions.

The first two of set three seemed to follow the similar pattern of the others, discussing what was similar between us. Then at question 27, things seemed to change. Notably, it was also the first time in which the phrase 'please' was used.

"Question twenty-seven," I paused, rereading it in my head a few times before I finally willed myself to say it, "Knowing you are to become a close friend with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know,"

Jake sat back a bit, thinking. I myself tried to figure out what I was going to say. I had been fairly honest with him, but there was, of course, things that I had just neglected to tell him. For some reason, I didn't find myself thinking of stories, merely emotions.

Then, I knew what I was going to say.

"I..." Jake started, pausing for a moment. It wasn't stumbling, it was as if he was trying to figure out how to word it, "I'm scared. I'm scared of waking up, I'm scared of hurting someone, I'm scared of making the wrong choice... but really, I'm just scared of being alone with myself..."

It seemed Jake and I were a lot more similar than I thought.

"I was going to say the same," I said slowly, and he looked up. Hesitantly, I continued, "I'm scared too..."

The questions continued to grow more personal, each one asking the deepest things which would not have been discussed with another unless asked otherwise. Asking when the last time you'd cried in front of someone, asking what the most treasured object was.

The final question simply read, "Reflect on this discussion,"

We didn't say anything. There wasn't much to be said, after all, considering we had practically just discussed our deepest desires with one another, our past, and future hopes. All that was left was that four minutes of staring into one another's eyes.

When I looked at Jake, I still saw those boring blue eyes.

But that wasn't all what they were. They were him. They represented his life, his goals, his dreams, and his fears. Things that I found myself sharing, although differing on minor topics. I realized, staring at him, that he was still the cookie-cutter boy I had first met.

And given the case, I was just a cookie-cutter girl.

I also realized, that Jake must be thinking things about me. I wondered if he saw my eyes as boring, or if he called me a cookie-cutter in his own mind. Although it was silent, I could still hear the gentle ticking of the watch on my wrist, a reminder of how long a minute could feel.

There was a new connection between Jake and I. Not a romantic one, it seemed different. It was like a bond, a friendship, that if anything this therapy session and questionnaire had drawn us closer. Kissing him, although embarrassing, felt like it was an entirely different life.

Another timeline, taking place in another world.

As I came to this realization, I almost jumped at the sound. A clicking, not too different from the pen Hannah held. A faint hiss, and looking, the door slowly opened. Jake and I both stood, slightly confused. I placed down the paper on the small coffee table, before moving towards the door.

And it was back to the real world. At least, for now.