And he walks toward Jackson. "Hey, there."

"Hi!" chirps Jackson.

"You seem happy," he says, taking a seat.

"Mm-hm!" He tilts his head back as though the collar were not visible enough before.

"Yes, I noticed that," he laughs. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks," says Jackson, squirming beamily in his seat.

"What's he like? What's his name?"

"His name is Mason and he reaaaaally knows what he's doing with that whip," says Jackson dreamily, "and he thinks I'm pretty and he had to drive me back to campus because the buses don't run as late as we were up and I think I'm in love."

"Awwwww!"

Grin! Self-conscious touching of collar!

"That's adorable. I'm really happy for you!"

"And he was just out there walking around and all I had to do was go into town and why did I never do that before?"

"Depression?"

"But see I don't think I can have had that, do I look depressed to you now? And I went to like one hour of therapy and it was more like forty-five minutes."

"No I'm pretty sure you have or had that. I mean, maybe having a dom will give you enough of whatever hormones it is you need that you'll bounce out of it on your own?"

"Maybe it's that," shrugs Jackson. "But anyway I feel a lot better. And you'll probably be glad I'm not going to kneel at people in the dining hall anymore, Master wouldn't like it."

"Yes, that's good all around," he agrees. "Um. Also I think you shouldn't stop going to therapy, at the worst case they'll agree with you and say you're all a-ok and stuff."

"I don't need a therapist to go 'yep looks like you're happy', what's the point?"

"'Cause on the off-chance you're wrong that'll be better long term? It's not like it costs a whole lot, 45 minutes per week talking to someone isn't that bad."

"I can always go back if it doesn't stick."

Sigh. "I suppose. 'S long as you're happy."

Nod nod nod nod nod.

"Well, now I should go to work. Again, congratulations!"

"Thanks!"

And off he goes to the library.