The ticking of the clock is dreadful to hear. Every tick signals the gradual split of the hands, a division from where they met: 4:20 PM. Now, there is a huge gap between them.

He's late.

Ragatha fidgets with her pearl necklace, suddenly feeling as if the room is constricted. Her body feels like lead underneath the pantsuit. Sheepishly grinning, she turns from the clock on the wall to the counselor sitting across her on the couch, "I'm sorry for keeping you waiting. My workmate just has this… habit."

The therapist looks up from her clipboard, "Don't worry about it, Ragatha. After all, it's not past the grace period yet."

The words of reassurance possess no doubt, yet the redhead feels them go from one ear to another. A signature polite grin still plasters itself on her face despite it. Whether by instinct or on purpose, she truly couldn't tell anymore.

A tall, narrow mirror sits on her right against the wall. It has wood engravings on it, reminding her of one she had in her childhood. Noticing her reflection, she straightens her slouched shoulders. Fidgeting hands fold down to her lap. Legs crossed. Body leaned against the backrest.

Ragatha trails down at her image in the mirror. She can't afford to lose her cool, especially this time. Her reason for being here is none other than due to her dynamic with her co-worker, Jax. Their altercations are more frequent; resentment is lingering between that it is almost tangible. It has grown worse since last week, when she mentioned someone she didn't mean. That moment when he turned around, pupils narrowing with rage still haunts her; she can't believe she brought that up, regardless if it was unintentional.

Her boss, Caine, could not bear any apprehension between any of his little fortuitous fruitcakes, so he advised her and Jax to attend weekly therapy sessions. Both workmates were mutually dismayed by the idea. However, Ragatha had felt indebted to her supervisor for always keeping C&A Company in top shape. It ultimately ended with a reluctant nod, even if she can barely tolerate a single hour with Jax. Perhaps it could mend their relationship, but what good can this do if he doesn't give any effort?

A sigh escaped Ragatha's lips, contemplating whether she should just tell the therapist to schedule another day. She has wasted this kind lady's time too much, "Um, is it possible—-"

"Afternoon. I didn't keep ya both waiting too long, did I?"

Ragatha could practically sense her curls standing up at the saccharine voice. The therapist straightens up, pen poised, "Good afternoon, and not at all. Please take a seat."

Jax wears a sly smile as he loosens his dark tie. He saunters over to the right space on the couch next to Ragatha, easily slouching against the backrest, as opposed to the upright stance the other has. A gap is between them, formed more out of habit. Not too far. Not too close either.

He lolls his head to the side, "Aw. No greetings for me, Dollface?"

"Good afternoon, Jax." Ragatha gives him a sidelong glance and a strained grin, as if facing him would drain her entire energy. Jax mirrors the reaction, his yellow teeth wide with his pupils dilated.

She despises that look on him.

"Jax, Ragatha," The therapist's eyes glide from one to another, "Welcome, both of you. I'm Sylvester, a licensed professional counselor. Before we dive into our sessions, I'll be giving a quick overview of how they work. I know it has not been easy for the two of you to come here, let alone make the decision, so I want to ensure that you understand your treatment. Is that alright?"

The informed consent spiel goes on, but it is muffled on Ragatha's end. The counselor's voice keeps on facing the same predicament. She looks over at Jax, noticing the tapping of his foot. He hates being here, of course, he does. More so that she's here. Oh my gosh. She should really listen to the counselor. The redhead shifts against the cushions, seemingly wishing that sinking into the furniture could swallow her immediately.

"Ragatha, are you alright?" Sylwester's (or was it Sylvester?) voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

Ragatha clears her throat, "Ah, yes."

"Are you sure you're okay? We can reschedule if you'd like."

"Yup, I'm okay!" Ragatha fist bumps the air upwards, "I've never been better!"

The therapist gives her a once-over, before grinning. "Alright. Just don't hesitate to voice out your concerns."

In the corner of Ragatha's eye, she could see Jax scowling before looking away from her.

"So I've read your charts," The therapist flips a few papers on her clipboard, "and I've gotten the gist. But in your own words, what brings you here today?"

Jax suddenly leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "Well, Licorice Hair over here is too sensitive to manage my antics, so she forces herself to sit and listen to your babbling."

"Jax!" Ragatha huffs at his taunt before glancing back at the professional, "I'm sorry. Um, our boss advised us to attend here because it seems there's a huge gap between us. Like, we can't understand each other in the workplace."

The therapist hums, "How long have you been working together?"

"Ever since we were interns." Jax rests his purple head on his gloved palm.

"For five years," Ragatha replies, at the same time.

She could sense Jax's eyes burning on the side of her head. Ragatha focuses on the pen writing on the clipboard. The therapist clicks it, "That's a long time…"

"Yeah, honestly, I expected it would take her three months before she resigns," Jax beams, "You should've heard her screaming when I sneaked centipedes in her desk!"

Ragatha exhales, her plush hands turning to fists on her lap. She can't look forward to anything out of this guy. Then again, if he can't take anything seriously in the workplace, how is this going to be any different?

"Yes, I'm sure that's hilarious for you." The therapist grins at Jax before a softer one for Ragatha, "but I don't think your co-worker likes it."

The rabbit rolls his eyes, grimacing. "Oh, whatever."

"That seems to be the problem." The therapist notes it in mind.

"Did you two ever get along before the frequent misunderstandings?"

A beat.

Ragatha's eye widens. She has lost count of how many times she reminisced about the moments when she and Jax were inseparable. Moments when they'd unwind in the employee's lounge with Ribbit, snickering on whatever funny memory or prank they could recall. She secretly loved it. Every single one, even if they both teased her for being the supervisor's pet when she would call them out. A time when Jax smiled at her because he loved her. He never does it now, only when he's mocking or teasing her.

She has recalled it many times, but having to form it into words is a suffocating thing to do.

Jax seems to also take in that question; his eyes focused on the counselor, then on the floor. Could he have thought the same thing as her?

The silence is settling in cold. Ragatha gapes her mouth to answer, but he beats her to it.

"Yes, we have."

Now, it's her turn to burn her gaze at him. His eyes uncharacteristically forward, one of his bunny ears askew.

"And why do you both think you can't seem to work together?"

 There's another pause.

"I think…" Ragatha looks down at her hands. She uncurls them, "Jax doesn't take anyone seriously, making it difficult for me to work with him for that matter. He treats it all as a game, but I…"

She glances up at the therapist, "I know we can still mend it. He contributes to the team, so I want to collaborate better with him."

The therapist nods, "That's great, Ragatha. And Jax?"

Furrowing his eyebrows, the rabbit sighs as the counselor sweeps her gaze at him, "I see Ragatha constantly covering others' shifts, doing extra paperwork, and holding up her positive charisma. As I worked more with her, I've realized that…"

From the hesitation, Ragatha turned her head fully to truly take in what he had to say. His ears are slightly droopy and his eyes are darting a bit everywhere. Almost as if it's taking his entire strength to finish his sentence. It's not every day you can hear or see Jax like this; it was almost uncanny how he wasn't trying to pull any pranks or jokes.

Jax seems to notice her staring. He holds the stare back. His pupils dilated slightly.

Then, he breaks into a chortle, "That she's nothing but an idiot who looks weird! Ha!"

She truly can't expect anything from him anymore. Ragatha deflates against the backrest, eyes half-lidded.

The therapist snaps her clipboard folder shut, "I notice that you have not been professional this entire time, Jax. I don't think we can continue with this session if you go on like that. Could you tell the reason?"

Contrary to Ragatha, the rabbit laughs through the counselor's words, "It's just so pathetic, really." He spits these words like venom, "It's just funny seeing her hold her moral ground when really she's breaking on the inside! She does live up to her character, a living rag doll."

Her stomach churns. Ragatha has beaten herself up so many times before, especially about her insecurities. But for some reason, hearing them come out of Jax's mouth hurt a thousand times more than any of his physical taunting. The words invade her thoughts. It reminds Ragatha of when she used to hide under the family table, little palms covering her mouth so she wouldn't hear her cries.

"So, what's the point in taking this session seriously? Ha!" Rasp coats Jax's voice. Words and laughs are being forced out of his lungs, "It's not like she's any different!"

"Just shut up, Jax!" Ragatha fumes, rising up from the couch. Jax looks up at her with tiny square pupils and downturned eyebrows. She faces his yellow-toothed grin, which widened a little.

"What do you mean by me not taking this seriously!? Who came here on time? Who stayed respectful to the counselor? I went all the way here to be open about myself, and you're making it a whole mockery!"

The counselor clears her throat, feeling the rising tension. "Alright, let's calm down and -"

"Being open, my foot!" Jax scoffs, his voice booming. "You were never open the moment you came here. We both know you hate being here. You just want to assure Caine so you could play into your role of Ms. Everything's Fine!"

"Is that how little you think of me!?" The floor wasn't wobbly, but her knees felt like giving out, "That I'd be so selfish to only care about my image!?"

"What else is there to think of, Ragatha?"

"I can't believe you," Ragatha's vision goes blurry. Words are spit between gritted teeth, "I've tried so, so hard to make things work out between us."

Jax howls a laugh at that, "That's exactly it, Ragatha!" He pushes himself on his two feet, "That's it! You try so hard, so hard that it becomes insincere. Don't you realize that?"

"What else do you suggest? Deflecting?" She could see his fur sticking out, "Pushing people away like what you're doing right now?"

Ragatha blinks her tears away, "Because at least I try! I actually face my problems! You're so critical of me, you don't even realize your own actions! Did you even learn from when—-"

She catches a glimpse of herself on the narrow mirror, voice suddenly stuck in her throat.

The bristled hair. The disdainful eyes. The shouting that's filled with so much hatred. Curled fists that could break something. No, no, no.

Across her, Jax's grin slowly drops. His ears droop slightly, eyes narrowed with the same reminiscent expression he gave her from their misunderstanding last week.

This can't be happening.

"From when? When what, Ragatha?" he demands. Despite his voice being lower, it still pierced right through her.

Ragatha shakes her head, wiping the tears that are threatening to spill out. "Nothing. It's nothing, Jax. I'm sorry."

"Bullshit! It's not nothing. It's written all over your face! What? From when, Ragatha? When she died!? Is that what you're gonna fucking sa-"

"It wasn't about Ribbit, Jax!" her voice strained, "It's from when we were friends! When we had something! I-I was…"

Curling down on herself, Ragatha hugs her chest as tears freely pour out. She covers her mouth to not let out any whines.

Jax's glare dims. He looks down at the floor. His purple fur slowly lowers as he takes a step back.

The therapist looks between the both of them, knowing no intervention could subdue that argument.

Ragatha was first to speak despite her sniffling, "I'm sorry." she clears her throat, "Is it alright if we schedule our session for another time?"

"Are you sure? We could take the time to de-escalate and dissect the situation." The therapist offers a box of tissues.

Ragatha waves it off, "I'm sure." she smiles, "I want to schedule another time."

I want. That sounded foreign on her tongue.

From her peripheral vision, she swore she saw Jax's lips twitch upwards, but it was so quick that perhaps it didn't even happen.

The counselor nods, placing the box back on the desk. "Alright then. Both of you take your time to rest and reflect. I'll be updating later about our schedule."

A low rumble rang outside of the clinic; the sun was nowhere to be seen, hidden behind ashy hues of clouds. Ragatha pushes the glass door open, needing both of her arms to do so. Her stuffing feels like it could explode out of her threads at any moment. Still, she goes down the stony, perron staircase. The click-clacking of her low heels fills the silence, apart from the honking and zooming of cars.

Suddenly, the asphalt starts to get coated by darker gray circles. She looks up to see droplets of rain. As each one descends down, they prickle her cotton skin. She can't help but smile a little. It's as if the universe is crying with her.

Ragatha zips open her purse and swears under her breath. She forgot her umbrella.

Upon noticing a nearby bus stop, she scurries under its canopy. The drumming of rain against it grew louder. Several of them slide off the metal, sinking in the crevices of the sidewalk. Eventually, the road is glistening with puddles. A car speeds by one, sending water upwards. Ragatha quickly backs off, "Jeez, this day is going to kill me..." Calming down her nerves, she reclines down on the metal bench.

Who was she kidding? She rubs her triangular nose bridge. After everything that happened, she could never calm down. Her thoughts are all over the place. She never expected it, but Jax saw right through her. It hurts to admit, but there was a pinch of truth in his words. The people-pleasing. The masking. Her positive charm that could almost feel fake. Perhaps that's one of the reasons that drove him away. Telling him he was loved and appreciated everyday, does he mean he never believed any of those? Is she always bound to end up failing him?

Before Ragatha knows it, tears are dribbling down her face again. She sighs and rubs her eye, already tired from crying.

Opening her eye, she's taken aback to see a hemmed square fabric reaching out to her. Ragatha blinks up to see Jax, his square pupils to the side.

"Just take it already," he shoves the handkerchief in her hands before plopping down beside her. Ragatha shakes off her earlier surprise. She mumbles a 'thank you' before wiping more of her tears.

“Don't get snot on it,“ Jax follows up.

"Yeah, I won't," Ragatha dabs the handkerchief against her skin, "You…not going home?"

"Do you see me with an umbrella?" Jax drones.

"Oh, right."

The steady downpour of rain drowns out the silence; humidity in the air clung to their garments. Between them again is the same, out-of-habit gap. Not too far, not too close for the umpteenth time.

As Ragatha wipes the rest of her tears, she reaches the handkerchief back to Jax. He waves a hand, "It's yours. Don't mention it."

"No, it's okay. I don't—-"

Before Ragatha could finish, Jax gives her a narrowed side glance. Oh. She mentally chastises herself.

She takes a deep breath, then exhales, "Thank you, Jax. Again."

He just looks away, peering down at his wrist watch. The redhead folds the handkerchief, making sure that the sides were even. It was then inserted inside her purse.

She zips her purse closed, and lays her plush palm down at the side of the bench. It is when she notices his gloved one is inches away from hers. Her finger is itching to move closer. If it were any of her other co-workers, she would've, but this is Jax. He despises physical touch more than anything. One overstep, and she'll ruin this moment.

Ragatha is going to look away and watch a nearby puddle, when she notices his hand move closer. She could almost gasp at the motion. Looking up at Jax, she sees him turning away.

Certain with herself, she inch closer. He repeats the same. The raindrops thump along with their heartbeats.

With one more inch taken, Ragatha rests her plush palm on his pinkie and ring finger. His fur incredulously stands up by just the mere sensation of it.

Jax takes a deep breath. The rabbit's ears flops down a little, in lieu of their almost forced, straight positions. If Ragatha looks a little closer, his cheeks are a noticeable pinkish peach.

She figures its better than to tease him. Knowing Jax, this might be the last time they'd be like this. Ragatha leans against the metal bench, enjoying the unexpected serenity of the moment.

It seems like they could close the gap after all.