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Another therapy session with Renfield drew to a close. Seward wasn’t sure if they were actually making any progress; his patient seemed restless. Not in a way that would cause worry, he just couldn’t settle himself, even after a near hour of conversation, which usually calmed him.
Seward was eager to leave the room, and all the flies in various states of their lifecycle within it.
When he rose from his seat, Renfield did the same and closed in on him in a hesitant way that was entirely unthreatening, despite his great stature.
“I will see you tomorrow,” Seward told him, patting his arm in a friendly manner.
Without warning, Renfield grabbed his hand. It was too intimate a touch for a doctor and his patient, but Seward didn’t pull out of his grip, curious to see the purpose of it.
“Won’t you stay, doctor?” Renfield pleaded. “Just a little while longer.”
Seward considered it, but he knew that a small mountain of paperwork was waiting for him in his study. He withdrew his hand from Renfield’s.
“I’m afraid not,” he said. “I have work to do.”
“In your study?”
Seward quirked an eyebrow.
“Yes,” he confirmed.
“Let me come with you,” Renfield said. “I’ll be good, I promise! I’ll be quiet, you won’t even know I’m there!”
Seward studied his pleading face. Up until now, his patient had seemed rather content with being left to his own devices, but now he seemed to crave company – specifically, his company.
He did not make it a habit to invite his patients to his study, although the less volatile ones could at times be permitted to enter when they sought him. However, this new development in Renfield’s wishes intrigued him, so he relented.
The attendants gave him curious looks as he strode down the corridor with Renfield trailing behind him, but with a nod he assured them everything was fine. He didn’t particularly like having his patient at his back and out of sight, but he kept his hand dipped into his pocket, curling around the lancet he kept there at all times, just in case, and it soothed him.
They entered his study, and Seward closed the door behind them. Without pause, he seated himself behind the desk, then glanced at Renfield.
Renfield obediently stayed by the door, looking around the room without much interest. His arms were hanging by his sides, and Seward saw that he was rubbing his fingers together, pushing his thumb between his index and middle digit, betraying his anxiety.
“You may sit by my feet, if you’d like,” Seward suggested.
Renfield’s face lit up, as if he had wanted just that.
“Yes, I would like that very much!” he said, and eagerly made his way around the desk.
He made himself comfortable on the floor by Seward’s left side, and Seward started working.
Like he had promised, Renfield was quiet and not at all a bother. His fidgeting stopped, and he seemed content. Then, he leaned his face against Seward’s thigh.
Seward stopped his writing for a moment, but Renfield made no move to escalate his behaviour, and he soon continued working.
They stayed like that for hours, Seward working while Renfield sat on the floor, his head a warm and comfortable weight on Seward’s thigh. He shifted every now and then, but otherwise didn’t seem bothered by his extended time in the same position. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it.
Seward had to admit that he liked it too. Renfield was like a loyal dog, sitting by its master. He couldn’t help but use his left hand to pet Renfield’s head, to run his fingers through his grey hair. Renfield sighed softly.
Eventually, Seward glanced at his timepiece and realised it was almost time for dinner – both for himself and for the patients.
He stood up and coaxed Renfield to his feet as well. His patient, who had been so high-strung when he entered this room, was now relaxed and pliant.
“There,” he said. “All better?”
“Yes, doctor. Thank you,” Renfield said.
Seward smiled at him, and then looked down. His smile faltered.
There was an unmistakable tenting in Renfield’s trousers.
He flushed, and averted his eyes. His intention had been to bring Renfield psychological relief, not sexual stimulus.
Clearing his throat, he stepped back from Renfield, and walked over to open the door.
“Go to your room,” he said. “Dinner should be brought to you shortly.”
Renfield left without protest, and Seward closed the door behind him. He sat back down behind his desk and sighed, staunchly ignoring the heat in his loins.