In the drabble stage (Help!)

[WrongObsession]

I started this story, but...well put simply I am a nincompoop. I no expert on grammar rules or really any sort of rules. But I kind of like how the story is going. Unfortunately I have no one to really communicate with about it. So it would be fricken amazing if anyone could give feed back, ideas, criticism (don't hold back I can take it!), or corrections I would just love you.




Willow Rosenberg tapped her slender fingers impatiently on the arm rest of the over sized chair. The receptionist looked over at her, annoyance clearly written on her face. Willow paused her insistent tapping, and grinned at the women. Picking up the ringing phone, the woman answered while glaring sideways.

The clock on the wall read 5 p.m. Antsy, Willow turned to the nearest glass window contemplating her reflection. Her restless red hair had decided today wasn’t the day to cooperate. Her emerald green eyes looked far to wild to be headed to a psychiatrist appointment. Her mother had recommended she begin to see one after her programming company took off.

‘What’s the use of all that money, if all you’re going to do is sit on it?’ Willow smiled at the recent memory of her and her mother’s conversation. ‘Mom I am just waiting for the right person, before I decide to splurge. Money can be intimidating.’ Willow replied as she rolled her eyes.

“Ms. Rosenberg?” A voice interrupted Willow’s inner musings. Smiling at the receptionist, the red head proceeded to enter the office of her tormenter.


Tara Maclay sat at her large mahogany desk. On top were assorted pencils, pens in various colors, coffee and her laptop. No pictures were any where to be found. Her father and brothers abusive behavior towards her, during her child hood aided Tara into becoming a psychiatric doctor.

Reaching into one of the many drawers, Tara took out a crisp white sheet of paper. She titled and dated the paper. Willow had been seeing her for almost six months now. Nothing seemed to change in their relationship. The young entrepreneur would sit comfortably in the chair directly in front of her desk. Smiling. Just grinning the most incomparable smile. Occasionally the red head would have a pedantic comment to add. But most of the time, she just sat grinning as if she were mentally ill.

Knock, knock.

Must be that time of day. Tara sighed, and quickly shifted the gears in her head. “Please come in.” Tara’s voice was friendly, and inviting. The door slowly opened to reveal a young woman, with pixie short fiery red hair. She dressed as casually as her work permitted. Pinstriped slacks, snug forest green turtle neck, and a large over coat accompanying her. Tara stood from her chair, gesturing towards the one opposite to her.

“Morning Ms. Rosenberg. How is everything?” Willow draped her coat on the chair, sat down, crossed her elegant legs and turned to stare intently out Tara’s office window. “Ms. Rosenberg?” The red head ignored her. Clenching her jaw, Tara sat down, scribbling her patient’s behavior.

“Women.” Tara glanced up towards the voice, her blue eyes filled with shock.

“Pardon?” The blonde responded.

“Do you like women?” The red head’s dark green eyes, questioned blue.

“I am assuming this question will lead to a more appropriate to be asking?” Willow shrugged and, turned back towards the window.

“I was just curious. You’ve never really mentioned anything about men.” Blood crept up to color the blonde’s cheeks.

“Well Miss. Rosenberg, our conversations haven’t exactly continued after our brief greetings.” Tara noticed the emotions flickering in the red heads eyes.

“Well I am talking now. Do you?” The blonde took a deep breath, ignoring the younger woman’s impatient tone. Setting her pencil down on the table, Tara laced her fingers together, resting her elbows on the desk.

“I do. Is there a reason for this inquiry?” Again the red head shrugged, but this time stood up to look out the window.

“Have you ever been with a woman?”

“Yes.”

“And you enjoyed it?”

‘I did.”

“We’re both talking about sexual relationships right?”

Tara smacked her palms on the table. Her face directed downward. With the way Tara had angled her face Willow could not read her expressions. But she could easily see Tara’s normally rosy cheeks had a deep tint of red.

Inhaling deeply through her nose, Tara picked up her pencil and wrote something on her paper.

“What are you scribbling?” The blonde refused to meet the emerald green eyes, boring down at her.

“I am listing all the reasons as to why I liked your silence much more than your curiosity.” The blonde heard the red head, sit back down.

“Oh.” Tara gave in when she heard the disappointed voice. Slowly the blonde glanced up towards the red head. Her usual grin had been replaced with a pensive look.

“What’s wrong now Ms. Rosenberg?” The blond asked gently.

“Should there be a problem?” Willow deadpanned

“Is there something you’d like to talk about?” The red heads normal cheeky grin returned.

“Do you find me attractive?” This new question caught Tara completely off guard. Of course she thought Willow was attractive, beautiful even. But unfortunately doctors and patients could not have personal relations outside of the medical one. Tara sighed, and tucked back a strand of loose blonde hair.

“If I tell you, it will have to be our little secret. Can you promise to keep a secret?” Willow’s grin suddenly changed into a smile. Enthusiastically the red head nodded her head. Taking a deep breath to calm her beating heart, Tara answered. “I find you extremely attractive. And I would love to ask you out, but given that our current relationship is strictly business and your past record with women, our relationship can’t move beyond this.”

Willow’s eyebrows knit together in concentration, silently contemplating something. Finally the red head, stared directly into the blonde’s blue eyes. “So you’re saying if I wasn’t a womanizer, and seeing you for psychiatric advice you’d consider going to dinner with me?” Tara slowly nodded. “Sounds fair enough, however I never mentioned dinner. We could skip going out all together.

You could come over to my place. Obviously I’d be waiting at the door for you. Once inside, I’d slowly peel off your coat revealing the most ravishing dinner gown. Then I’d escort you to dinning room. A table set for two, the only form of light would be radiating from tiny tea candles. There your gorgeous blue eyes would notice an assortment of hand rolled sushi filled with aphrodisiac enjoyment, steaming miso soup, and a never ending supply of warm sake.” Willow stopped her fantasy abruptly to let Tara’s racing mind catch up with hers. But Tara would never get there, after a few moments Willow started up again.

“But I suppose we’d never get that far. Dinner I mean. So let’s skip the meal, and go straight for a smooth chocolate cake. Just out of the oven. The frosting practically melting in your mouth, before you’ve even had a chance to taste it. Though I can imagine a few other things smothered in rich, creamy chocolate.” Willow licked her lips teasingly.

“Ms. Rosenberg…! “ The blonde was cut off, by a slender finger on her mouth.

“Tara,” The blonde instantly closed her mouth hearing the huskiness of Willow’s voice. “From this moment call me Willow. This will be our last business conference in this office. I want you to get used to the idea of saying my name.” Tara shook off the soft, delicious finger from her lips.

“Ms. Rosenberg,” Tara’s voice was firm, and demanding. “Your behavior is inexcusable. If you don’t clean it up, I will ask you to leave.” Willow laughed, and gave Tara a sultry grin.

“I like it when you get rough. Tell me do you think you could have me escorted out of here? I mean if my lips were hot against your pretty throat? Or my hand exploring your plentiful breasts?” Tara felt all the blood from her heart shoot straight to her cheeks. Willow stood and walked slowly around Tara’s large desk. Propping herself up, she sat on the desk, directly in front of Tara. Leaning foreword, Willow’s hot breath caressed Tara’s burning cheeks. “You’re stunning when you blush, but I can definitely think of a few other ways to make you flush red.”

Tara’s breath caught in her throat. Willow trailed the tips of her fingers down the young doctor’s jaw bone, tracing her neck, and pausing at her racing pulse. Exhaling Tara reached for the smaller woman’s hands.

[Dorothy]

I like your writing style
The story skips a little from moving very slow with uncomfortable characters to going suddenly fast and deep, I do that too when I write, have not yet found a way to fix it.
(don't know if others consider that a problem, but I see it as a flaw in my own writing, on which I'm a lot more strickt than on other peoples work)

[WrongObsession]

I like your writing style
The story skips a little from moving very slow with uncomfortable characters to going suddenly fast and deep, I do that too when I write, have not yet found a way to fix it.
(don't know if others consider that a problem, but I see it as a flaw in my own writing, on which I'm a lot more strickt than on other peoples work)

Thanks, you're the first.

yeah I do that alot. I usually hurry and write what I have flowing, then when I feel nothing else I go back. Problem is I am not sure what to do with what I have.

[Dorothy]

maybe go back a little, show a little more of the atraction W/T have on eachother, how they get to that point beyond the professional relationship? That will make it less jump-to-the-point-y pluss it'll add in some angst which a lot of kittens love.

(But I'm a very useless fic writer, I'm better at bookreports, history assignments and more of that non-fictional stuff, so don't pay too much attention to my babbles )

[WrongObsession]

alright. Sounds good. Now I just need to decide for a one shot, or a full on fiction. Thanks!

[Guest]

Hi, I think Dorothy presented some good points of amelioration of your story. I'm certainly interested in reading more about it since it caught my attention from the very first paragraphs implying that you are able to retain attention through what you write, which is an asset.

Where there might be a flaw though would be in the professional relationship you describe. Since I'm in this field, I was wondering why you have chosen to have Willow see a psychiatrist and not a Personal Development Coach or an NPL psychologist.

Does she have a mental illness?

For an individual to access a psychiatrist's office, either the family or a close relation suspects that there might be a show of abnormal behaviour and shepherds the patient over. Based on why Willow's mother made the recommendation to her daughter, a psychoanalyst would be the better option. In most cases, a psychologist makes a preliminary assessment of a patient and decides whether there is mental illness involved with the psychological considerations. Most of the time, it is then that the psychiatrist comes into the picture.

As for the relationship between client and professional, it is against the deontology of practice and there is a risk of having one's license removed if this is discovered. A relationship is only permissible two years following the end of the therapy for the following reason: there will be an automatic conflict of interests since the boundaries between the helper and the lover shall be unclear leading to a dysfunctional relationship.

I can see a huge conflict of interest arising between Willow and Tara if they have been into therapy together for six months. Furthermore, a little touch of neutrality coming from Tara would add a more realistic, lifelike touch to the story.

I hope these may help and I wish you all the best with your penning WrongObsession

Vi'

[Dorothy]

mothers can have the power to throw their daughters directly in a psychiatrists office, but I don't think that power reaches beyond adolecense. A psychologist might be indeed a better choice for this story if you wish to change Tara's profession. I think that's more Tara anywayz, helping people by talking instad of drugging them up (Yeah, me nows, big with the predjudgement there)

[WrongObsession]

Well I feel a bit silly. Thanks alot for the help. I really wasn't aware of the difference between psychoanalyst, psychiatrist, and psychologist. So research and rewriting is in order. But from what I've read and printed, I think I meant Tara to be a psychologist rather than a psychiatrist. You both have been extremely helpful. I hope to have an update and revison for the both of you soon.

[Dorothy]

Would be cool

[Guest]

WrongObsession, dear friend, I am sorry for the way my previous post was written. I had meant it as an explanation and hadn't had the slightest intention of making you feel the way you did. It's but an enrichment for adding a more lifelike touch to your story if you wished it to be that way. I have written stories as well before and I remember just going along with my gut feeling without necessarily engaging in research first. Gut feelings produce rich stories . And your gut feeling has indeed produced an interesting piece of work that I genuinely wish to read more of.

Good luck and have a great day,

Vi

[WrongObsession]

Willow Rosenberg tapped her slender fingers impatiently on the arm rest of the over sized chair. The receptionist looked over at her, annoyance clearly written on her face. Willow paused her insistent tapping, and grinned at the women. Picking up the ringing phone, the woman answered while glaring sideways.

The clock on the wall read 5 p.m. Antsy, Willow turned to the nearest glass window contemplating her reflection. Her restless red hair had decided today wasn’t the day to cooperate. Her emerald green eyes looked far to wild to be headed to a dreadful appointment. Her mother had recommended she begin to talk to someone about her commitment issues after her programming company took off.

‘What’s the use of all that money, if you have no one to share it with?’ Willow smiled at the recent memory of her and her mother’s conversation. ‘Mom I am just waiting for the right person, before I decide to splurge. Money can be intimidating.’ Willow replied as she rolled her eyes.

“Ms. Rosenberg?” A voice interrupted Willow’s inner musings. Smiling at the receptionist, the red head proceeded to enter the office of her tormenter.


Tara Maclay sat at a large mahogany desk. Her long golden hair had been transformed into messy bun. A set of slick glasses encased her ocean blue eyes. When one glanced at her desk, assorted pencils, pens in various colors, coffee and her laptop would be seen. No pictures were anywhere to be found. Tara had grown up in a house with an abusive father and brother. With her mother’s help, and several academic scholarships, Tara grew into a successful psychoanalyst.

Reaching into one of the many drawers, Tara took out a crisp white sheet of paper. She titled and dated the paper. Willow Rosenberg had been seeing her for almost six months now. The young entrepreneur was the beginning of Tara’s happiness and sorrows. Willow never wanted to talk, but insisted on making returning appointments. Nothing seemed to change in their relationship. The young entrepreneur would sit comfortably in the chair directly in front of her desk. Smiling. Just grinning the most incomprehensible smile. Occasionally the red head would have a pedantic comment to add to the conversation; but most of the time, she just sat grinning as if she were mentally ill.

Knock, knock.

Must be that time of day. Tara sighed, and quickly shifted the gears in her head. “Please come in.” Tara’s voice sounded friendly, and inviting. The door slowly opened to reveal a young woman, with pixie short fiery red hair. She dressed as casually as her work permitted. Pinstriped slacks, snug forest green turtle neck, and a large over coat accompanying her. Tara stood from her chair, gesturing towards the one opposite her desk.

“Morning Ms. Rosenberg. How is everything?” Willow draped her coat over the chair, sat down, crossed her elegant legs and turned to stare intently out Tara’s office window. “Ms. Rosenberg?” The red head ignored her. Clenching her jaw, Tara sat down, scribbling her patient’s behavior.

“Women.” Tara glanced up towards the voice, her blue eyes filled with shock.

“Pardon?” The blonde responded.

“Do you like women?” The red head’s dark green eyes, questioned blue.

“I am assuming this question will lead to a more appropriate subject?” Willow shrugged and, turned back towards the window.

“I was just curious. You’ve never really mentioned anything about men.” Blood crept up to color the blonde’s cheeks.

“Well Miss. Rosenberg, our conversations haven’t exactly continued after our brief greetings.” Tara noticed the emotions flickering in the red heads eyes.

“Well I am talking now. Do you?” The blonde took a deep breath, ignoring the younger woman’s impatient tone. Setting her pencil down on the table, Tara laced her fingers together, resting her elbows on the desk.

“Off the record?” The smaller woman nodded.
“I do. Is there a reason for this inquiry?” Again the red head shrugged, but this time stood up to look out the window.

“Have you ever been with a woman?”

“Yes.”

“And you enjoyed it?”

‘I did.”

“We’re both talking about sexual relationships right?”

Tara smacked her palms on the table. Her face directed downward. With the way Tara had angled her face Willow could not read her expressions. But she could easily see Tara’s normally rosy cheeks had a deep tint of red.

Inhaling deeply through her nose, Tara picked up her pencil and wrote something on her paper.

“What are you scribbling?” The blonde refused to meet the emerald green eyes, boring down at her.

“I am listing the reasons as to why I preferred your silence over your curiosity.” The blonde heard the red head, sit back down.

“Oh.” Tara gave in when she heard the disappointed voice. Slowly the blonde glanced up towards the red head. Her usual grin had been replaced with a pensive look.

“What’s wrong now Ms. Rosenberg?” The blond asked gently.

“Should there be a problem?” Willow deadpanned

“Is there something you’d like to talk about?” The red heads normal cheeky grin returned.

“Do you find me attractive?” This new question caught Tara completely off guard. Of course she thought Willow was attractive, alluring even. But Tara knew the consequences of an office romance could not possibly end well. Tara gave a defeated sigh, and tucked back a strand of loose blonde hair.

“If I tell you, it will have to be our little secret. Can you promise to keep a secret?” Willow’s grin suddenly changed into a smile. Enthusiastically the red head nodded her head. Taking a deep breath to calm her beating heart, Tara answered. “I find you…captivating. And I would love to ask you out, but given that our current relationship is strictly business and your past record with women, our relationship can not, and will not move beyond this.”

Willow’s eyebrows knit together in concentration, silently contemplating something. Tara couldn’t help but note how adorable the redhead looked. Finally the red head, stared directly into the blonde’s blue eyes. “So you’re saying if I wasn’t a womanizer, and seeing you for advice you’d consider going to dinner with me? A casual dinner with no expected commitments afterwards.” Tara slowly nodded. “Sounds fair enough, however I never mentioned wanting dinner. We could skip going out all together.

You could come over to my place. Obviously I’d be waiting at the door for you. Once inside, I’d slowly peel off your coat revealing the most ravishing dinner gown. Then I’d escort you to dinning room. A table set for two, the only form of light would be radiating from tiny tea candles. There your gorgeous blue eyes would notice an assortment of hand rolled sushi filled with aphrodisiac enjoyment, steaming miso soup, and a never ending supply of warm sake.” Willow stopped her fantasy abruptly to let Tara’s racing mind catch up with hers. But Tara would never get there, after a few moments Willow started up again.

“But I suppose we’d never get that far. Dinner I mean. So let’s skip the meal, and go straight for a smooth chocolate cake. Just out of the oven. The frosting practically melting in your mouth, before you’ve even had a chance to taste it. Though I can imagine a few other things smothered in rich, creamy chocolate.” Willow licked her lips teasingly.

“Ms. Rosenberg…! “ The blonde was cut off, by a slender finger on her mouth. The smaller woman had sprawled fully across the wood desk, her snug shirt becoming a bit to snug for the blonde.

“Tara,” The blonde instantly closed her mouth hearing the huskiness of Willow’s voice. “From this moment on call me Willow. This will be our last business conference in this office. I want you to get used to the idea of saying my name.” Tara shook off the soft, delicious finger from her lips.

“Ms. Rosenberg,” Tara’s voice was firm, and demanding. “Your behavior is inexcusable. If you don’t clean it up, I will have to ask you to leave.” Willow laughed, and gave Tara a sultry grin.

“I like it when you talk rough. Tell me do you think you could have me escorted out of here? If my lips were hot against your pretty throat? Or my hand exploring your plentiful breasts?” Tara felt all the blood from her heart shoot straight to her cheeks. Willow stood and walked slowly around Tara’s large desk. Propping herself up, she sat on the desk, directly in front of Tara. Leaning foreword, Willow’s hot breath caressed Tara’s burning cheeks. “You’re stunning when you blush, but I can definitely think of a few other ways to make you flush red.”

Tara’s breath caught in her throat. Willow trailed the tips of her fingers down the young woman’s jaw bone, tracing her neck, and pausing at her racing pulse. Exhaling Tara reached for the smaller woman’s hands. If she could just distance herself from the young woman before her, she might just be able to gain some self control. And as her hand found Willow’s soft, well maintained hands, time slipped away. How had she been so anxious before to get rid of them. She wanted more. A basic instinct took over, desire.

Pushing herself slowly up, so that now she was the dominating position she advanced. The blonde moved her face slowly towards the redhead. Their lips mere seconds apart, but already that felt like an eternity. And when they almost met in the most passion filled, sensuous kiss the world had yet witnessed. A loud buzzing noise polluted the silence, causing Tara to fall back down into her chair.

Ms. Maclay! Sorry to bother you, but your other clients have been waiting for some time.

Willow just sat on Tara’s desk. Her smug smile had returned. The young blonde felt all, if any of the attraction she just had fade away. In its place irritation and anger took over.

“Well Doc, I am cured! And since this is our last session, we should go out and celebrate. My treat obviously.” Tara curiously looked up at the redhead, whom quickly added, “A casual drink. You bring a friend; I’ll bring a friend…” The blondes eyes widen, and her lips tightened in a thin line. “You’re free to say no if my company makes you feel any… discomfort.”

The last sentence had almost sounded like a challenge. “No Ms. Rosenberg, I think we’re both well poised, mature women. Meeting each other for drinks is completely acceptable.”

“I thought I asked you to call me Willow.”

Tara pushed herself out of the chair, and flashed the smaller woman a smile that could only be describe as lopsided, and sultry. “You did, I chose not too.” Picking up Willow’s coat, Tara made her way to stand next to the entrance.
“When are you free, Ms. Rosenberg?”

“Always.”

“Unfortunately I am busy for the rest of this week.”

“I can wait.”

“Next week? Wednesday night?”

“It’s a date.” Willow slid carefully off Tara’s desk and walked purposefully towards the blonde woman. “Till Wednesday.” Willow smiled, took her coat, turned the door’s handle and walked out. Tara smiled as her secretary sent daggers towards Willow, who simply responded by blowing her a kiss.

Till Wednesday Miss. Rosenberg.


it's an update. I am still working on bringing the subtle attraction into it. I never realized writing would be so difficult. I think I've re-written the same scene over 10 times, then just put it back to its original form. I think I am going to go for a short maybe 5 part story. Its a huge goal...but I can do it! So please pick it apart, and toss me the scraps.

ps. nimloth don't even worry about it. I am writing about something I had no insight into. If I can add some actual fact into my fictional story awesome. Hope it's somewhat better than the first post.