The Doctor is in

The brunette assistant emerges from the inner office, her professional demeanor now overlaid with an undercurrent of nervous energy. She smooths her skirt, a gesture she repeats twice before speaking.

"Dr. Cobbler will see you now, Liam. Right away." Her hands are clasped in front of her, knuckles white.

She leads him down a short hallway, her heels clicking faster than necessary on the polished floor. Before she opens the door to a corner office.

Liam steps inside. The room smells of leather and old books. A woman stands behind a large mahogany desk, her back to him as she gazes out the window. She's tall, even taller than he expected a tall woman would, with blonde hair pulled into a loose ponytail. She turns, and her green eyes, sharp behind dark-rimmed glasses, lock onto his. She's wearing a fitted blue blouse and a black pencil skirt that ends just below her knees. Though, looking at her black skirt in comparison with the brunette assistant's skirt, it's clear the reason it ends below her knees is because her legs are just that long. What should be a normal knee-length skirt on another woman would look like a mid-thigh on her. Even without her heels, she'd still be taller than he is.

“Mr. Liam, isn't it? Thank you so much for your patience and willingness to wait." She rounds the desk, extending a hand. "I'm Dr. Caitlin Cobbler. But you can call me whatever you want. Please, have a seat."

The way she offers to be called whatever he wants stirs something in him, so casual. Blasé, indifferent, normal.

It makes his brain want to call her all the degrading things. Things he called the women he had his fun with these past couple months. Is this her way to signal him that she knows? The Click and what it signifies? That she's ready to be called names? That she would take it as a form of validation and not an insult? Maybe she's ready for more than that?

Her grip is firm, her palm cool against his. He sits in the leather armchair opposite her desk, the leather sighing under his weight. She doesn't return to her own chair immediately. Instead, she perches on the edge of her desk, crossing her long legs. The movement is fluid, practiced, but there's a slight tremor in her fingers as she adjusts the cuff of her blouse. She looks at him, really looks at him, her analytical gaze cataloging details—the slight bulge of his stomach, the messy curls of his hair, the way he slouches in the expensive chair.

"So, Mr. Liam," she begins, her voice even, professional, "How may I help you today?"

Liam lets the silence hang in the air for a moment, watching her. He takes a good look at Caitlin. She radiates a sense of elegance. Her blonde hair, pulled back, exposes a long, slender neck that flows down to her broad shoulders. The fitted blouse does little to hide the modest swell of her breasts, but it's the way she holds herself—straight-backed, chin slightly raised—that makes them seem significant. He imagines them freed from that fabric, pale and creamy against her skin, the small, pink nipples tight and pointing upward. Her skirt, cut for a woman of average height, ends on just below her knees like he saw before, but upon a closer look, it's actually quite tight. The black fabric stretches taut over her hips, hinting at the curve of her ass beneath. Now that he can see a good look at her legs, his first impression on it doesn't do it justice. They are impossibly long and shapely, ending in a pair of black heels that add even more inches to her formidable height.

"J-just Liam is fine." Liam quickly snaps out of his downright lustful observation. "And as for help… I uh, well, I'm not sure. I was recommended to you by a friend of mine because of some issues I have." His nervous, timid old self fluctuates up.

Liam might have had his days and weeks of being adored by women ever since The Click, using them as he pleases. But it doesn't let go of the fact that not a couple of months ago, before that fateful birthday, he's nothing but an awkward, average guy. And being in front of this imposing, professional woman in her own domain, with her piercing green eyes analyzing him, he can't help but feel that old familiar feeling of inadequacy.

He's not used to this dynamic. He is used to women approaching him, they know him as neighbor, friends, and offer themselves to be his exploration of this new world he's in. Not him coming to them.

"Of course. Liam." Caitlin's smile is gentle, disarming.

She slides off the desk and walks over to a small table against the wall, where a carafe of water and two glasses sit. Her hips sway with each step, the tight skirt emphasizing the firm globes of her ass. She pours water into both glasses, the sound of liquid filling the glass the only noise in the room. She brings one over to him, leaning forward slightly as she places it on the small table beside his chair. The blouse gapes at the neck, giving him a clear view of the valley between her breasts. He can see the delicate lace of her bra, a hint of cream against her pale skin.

"No need to be nervous," she says, her voice quiet and soft. "Whatever it is you're going through, we can work through it together. That's what I'm here for. To help you." She returns to her desk, finally sitting in her high-backed leather chair.

"Right. I think it's safe to say that given you're… well, a woman that you're uh…" Liam stumbles into his words.

"That I…?" She inquires, her eyebrow raising.

"Y-y'know, the thing. The v-vision?" Liam says, almost stuttering.

Liam wants to mention The Click by the name, but he quickly realizes that just because Kina coined it for him to put a name to the phenomenon, doesn't mean it then magically spread around the world making every woman know the term. He is nervous that his words might not make any sense to her, even though he knows that it's pretty much a universal thing that happens given all the women he knows so far have the same experience.

But a part of him is still afraid that the whole thing would crash down in a moment's notice. That there's an invisible rule to The Click that he hasn't figured out yet, something that would result in some dire consequence. A fear, that the woman in front of him, would be the one to discover it and call him a creep, a weirdo.

"Ah, yes. That epiphany." She says, her expression shifting from professional curiosity to a softer, knowing look. "Yes, of course. I am well aware of it. We all are."

The way she says "we all" sends a shiver down his spine. The confirmation is both exhilarating and terrifying.

"You're the Liam right? The one that was in it."

Liam nods, unable to form words.

"Good. That's good. I'm glad you're here. I was wondering when I'd finally get my chance to meet you in person. If ever, given the astronomical chances of it." She says, a genuine, warm smile spreading across her face. "Now, please, tell me what's been troubling you. I'm here to help." She finishes, reassuring Liam again.

"Well, I've been having issues with the way I see myself. Like ever since The Click happened—oh that's what I call it by the way, the vision thing—I've been questioning a lot of things. Like how I should act or what's the best thing to do. I-it It's a bit complicated. On one hand, I've been trying to figure out the right way to go about things. On the other hand… I-I don’t know what right is even." Liam poured out a ramble, his nervousness flooding out of him.

Caitlin listens intently, her head tilted, her green eyes fixed on him. She doesn't interrupt, letting him get everything out. When he finally trails off, she leans forward, her elbows on her desk, her chin resting on her interlocked fingers.

"I see. And what, specifically, are you struggling with? The responsibility, or perhaps the… opportunities?"

Liam hesitates before answering, feeling a little uneasy. "Uh… I'm… not sure how to say this. It's… a bit embarrassing to talk about. Especially to someone I've just met." He pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I'm not sure if I should tell you this." Liam admits, his cheeks flushing.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, Liam," Caitlin says, her tone soothing. "You can tell me anything. Whatever it is, it stays between us. I am here to help you, in any way I can." Her gaze is unwavering, her expression open and inviting.

Liam isn't sure if her emphasis on the words 'any way I can' has double meaning, or if it's just a professional platitude. But given the newfound world they're in after The Click, it's probably both.

Liam nods and takes a deep breath. "I've been trying to make sure that I don't hurt anyone and that I respect other's feelings, and o-of course consent and all." He says, looking down at his hands.

"Right, as anyone would and should be. I understand." Caitlin nods, her expression serious.

"But…" Liam continues, a small, hesitant smile forming on his face. "I also have… this other side of me that wants to try… everything. To see how far I can go. To test the limits.” He took a deep breath, “To be honest, a big part of me is curious to see what it's like to just… take what I want. To be selfish and to see how women would react. I've been told that I should explore this side of me, but I'm worried it's… wrong." Liam says, looking away and feeling a bit ashamed. "I feel like I can't resist the urge to just do whatever I want. Like, I got lost in the pleasure and I just keep going because deep down I know they will let me do whatever I want." He confesses.

Caitlin's lips curve into a slow, knowing smile. She rises from her chair and walks around her desk, bringing the chair with her. It seems she wants to eliminate the gap the desk made between them, a barrier that shouldn't be there in this kind of conversation. She places the chair directly in front of him, so close their knees are almost touching as she sits down. The scent of her perfume—something clean and vaguely floral, like jasmine—fills his senses. She leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees, bringing her face level with his.

"Liam," she says, her voice dropping to a near whisper, her green eyes locked onto his. "Let me be crystal clear. There is nothing 'wrong' with exploring that side of yourself. In fact, it's not just okay, it's… necessary. It's your right." She places a hand on his knee, her touch light but firm.

"Tell me, what makes you think it's wrong? What part of you is holding you back?"

Liam looks at her hand on his knee, then back at her face. He sees no judgment in her eyes, only a genuine desire to understand, to help. And, he also sees that reverence.

The very thing he saw in every other woman's eyes after they met him.