Dose 𝓣hirteen

Dose Thirteen Observations:
Subject is insisting on a distraction. Shows signs of denial.

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Her voice echoed from behind me, but the further I ran, the less I heard it.

She wasn’t chasing me—maybe out of respect for my boundaries.

Or maybe she knows this is fucked.

We both know this is really fucked up.

A part of me wanted to stay.

I wanted to hear more, but my curiosity is not worth the pain it’ll cause me in the end.

That she’ll cause me in the end.

She…

Monroe said that she wants to fight for me.

I squeezed the steering wheel just a little tighter, trying not to let my thoughts drift as I focused on driving.

“I’ve been trying to fight for you.”

What does that even mean?

She didn’t fight for me when it mattered.

She just tossed me to the side without a further thought.

“I always planned to see you again.”

I shook my head at her voice echoing throughout my head, trying not to give in to any of it.

She lied that night.

She confirmed that.

So why do I feel fucking relieved?

Why does it feel so good to hear that?

I was right.

That’s why.

She didn’t hurt Kaia.

That’s also why.

And maybe…

“No,” I whispered, letting out the shakiest sigh of my life as I halted the car at the red light.

“You don’t love me back?”

My distant words echoed in my head—I could still hear how broken I sounded all those months ago.

“I’m done aiming to be someone I’m not.”

That was her response to my stupid question.

I shook my head to myself again, refusing to analyze that night again.

I had analyzed it for the last few months on end, until I finally forced myself to let it go.

I had to come to terms with the fact that I would never understand her.

That I never got her like I thought I did.

 But she lied.

She lied that night.

“Oh my fucking gosh,” I breathed out, quickly wiping the annoying tears spilling from my eyes.

What if—

“No,” I whispered, letting out the deepest sigh of my life. “No, I’m done. I don’t care anymore.”

I did fucking care.

But again, it wasn’t worth it.

Going down that road with her again can’t be worth the pain that it caused me in the first place.

So I left it at that, forcing myself to focus on the drive home.

I was excited to see Jynx, hear her soft purr that greeted me at the door.

It was fucking relieving being back at my apartment again.

I got ready for bed immediately.

I also made sure Jynx’s litter box was cleaned and ensured she drank some water.

But even as I climbed into bed, there was not a single tired urge in my body.

I was wide awake.

A deep sigh echoed from my lips as I stared up at the ceiling, petting Jynx curled up on my chest.

My mind had quieted since Eliza’s engagement party, yet the conversation we had still echoed distantly.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her.

So I kept my eyes open.

I focused on petting Jynx, listening to her soft breaths as I stared at the ceiling.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

Or when I drifted off to sleep.

But suddenly I was waking up to the bright Seattle sun peaking through the windows.

Jynx was still deep asleep, except she was curled up to my side now as I laid on my stomach.

A deep sigh fell from my lips, briefly checking my phone for the time.

8:49 AM

There were also notifications in my group chat with Zion and Sarai.

Eliza even texted me, too.

So happy you came last night. I hope you had a good time!

I lazily raised my brows at her text, knowing it wasn’t exactly the best time.

But I’m happy Eliza is happy.

And you know what? I’m happy that I went and met her fiancé.

I’m happy that I didn’t skip it, regardless of how quickly my conversation went south with Monroe.

This morning, it all felt a little lighter.

Sort of.

At least until knocks sounded at my front door as I prepared Jynx’s breakfast.

I pinched myself first, ensuring I wasn’t having another stupid dream.

Then I walked toward the door, my steps soft and hesitant.

I stayed to the side, not wanting the shadows of my feet to be obvious underneath the door.

My breath was nearly hitched in my throat as I stared out of the peephole, letting out the most relieved breath when I noticed there wasn’t anyone on the other side.

Minus the wicker basket—filled with hundreds of red roses.

Suddenly, this outcome was equally as bad.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the roses through the peephole.

Then I noticed the notecard lying in the basket, and I annoyingly unlocked the door, twisting the cold handle.

The basket was really fucking heavy—I couldn’t even pick it up.

Instead, I had to drag it into my apartment.

Then I impatiently grabbed the notecard to read, even if I knew who they were from.

When it benefits you. 
-M. Leclair

The words on the card made me draw in a deep breath, determining she didn’t chase after me on purpose.

She wants it to be on my terms—when it benefits me, as she said.

And that will never happen.

We’ll never have the conversation to begin with.

I dropped the notecard in the basket, kicking it to the side before I went back to making Jynx’s breakfast. 

I had no plans of leaving my apartment.

Especially not to see Zion and Sarai.

They would want an update, and I didn’t want to lie to them.

But I definitely couldn’t tell them the truth at this point, so I avoided them altogether.

I decided to spend my Sunday cleaning.

It was weird, but really productive… I kind of liked it.

I felt even better after cleaning every inch of my apartment and prepping everything for tomorrow.

Like my outfit and what I would have for lunch.

I had cereal for dinner that night.

Fruity Pebbles, to be specific.

But somehow I thought about the Cheerios she used to get for me so fucking long ago.

Then my appetite suddenly diminished, and I was ready to get ready for bed.

Even if I knew I would be staring at my ceiling for hours on end. 

I’m not even sure when I fell asleep, but I knew I was really fucking tired when my alarm went off the next morning.

I snoozed it a few times, bargaining about what I would do to get ready.

It went from makeup to no makeup.

Then it went from doing my hair to just brushing it out and leaving it in waves.  

Until finally, I was trying to convince myself that I could get ready in less than an hour.

I was pissed at myself—or the person I became when I was tired.

It forced me to rush everything.

My hair came out decent, and I got to at least gel down my brows and wear a little blush.

I had to bring my lip combo with me for the car ride.

I also didn’t have time for breakfast.

I’m thankful my clothes were laid out for me, or else I would’ve been wearing a mismatched outfit.  

I stuck to the blush pink blouse and black pants that I had picked out the night before, sliding on a pair of random black stilettos.

Levane was just as I had left it on Friday, except today felt busier for some reason.

It was my third Monday being here, so I knew it wasn’t just because it’s the beginning of the week.  

No.

Something’s going on.

There were a lot more people waiting for elevators, which equaled a lot more stops on each level.

It confused me, wondering why there were so many more people here today.

What the fuck is going on?

I glanced around as I stepped off the elevator onto my floor, furrowing my brows as I walked down the hallway.

It was normal on this level.

The usual silence.

Well, minus Briggszilla’s annoying voice that echoed as I got closer.

Great.

“Ms. Fierro. Nice of you to join us,” Kara just had to say as I walked into the tech division.

Everyone was standing at their desks, keeping their attention on Kara.

Even Grayson looked serious, while Zion pursed his lips with a look that said I was late.

But I knew I was on time.

It’s only eight thirty-one?

I’m a minute late, sure, but damn, can Briggszilla not wait sixty fucking seconds?

“As I was saying,” Kara continued as I made it to my desk, carefully setting my bag down as my stare zoned in on the usual breakfast waiting on my desk for me. “This press conference determines all your futures here. One wrong answer, and you’re gone.”

I looked away from my desk immediately at her words, not realizing there was a fucking press conference today.

Much less, that I would be involved in it.

I’m just in fucking tech.

How the hell am I involved in this?

Fuck, I didn’t get enough sleep for this. 

“The reporters may not acknowledge you. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” Kara continued to speak through the silence. “But you will be answering all questions. Our divisions being accessible makes the public feel involved. They’re less likely to question what goes on here.”

What does go on here?

Now I’m concerned.

Why did Briggszilla say it like that?

It must be really fucking bad, knowing the family I work for.

That’s a given.

“We’re going down in five minutes. Look over the email sent yesterday for reference. You should have it memorized by now,” Kara said, backing out of the tech division before she inevitably turned on her heel.

My eyes were wide as I reached for my purse, grabbing my phone to quickly check my emails.

Because I never fucking checked my email yesterday.

No one told me that I would have to.

“Let me guess. You never read the email,” Zion said, leaning into me so I could hear him.

“Yep,” I mumbled flatly, scrolling down in my email to read the email Briggszilla had sent us.

Fuck me.

I’m definitely going to fuck this up.

The one day I choose to be productive and off my phone—this happens.

“Don’t bother. There’s no way you’ll be able to summarize it in five minutes,” Zion said, as I skimmed through the extensive email. “Let me just give you a brief overview.”

“I’m going to fuck this up, regardless,” I sighed, dropping my phone back in my purse.

“I doubt they’ll call on any of us,” Zion assured me as I met his stare. “Briggszilla basically said that they want to talk to our CEO the most.”

I nodded a few times, trying not to think about being in another room with her again.

But I guess this will happen moving forward.

We’ll have moments like these.

I tried not to think too hard about it as I walked down with everyone, Zion quietly summarizing everything to me as a low chatter broke out around us.

The press rooms were on the first floor, allowing easy access for equipment and numerous reporters to get into the building without allowing access to the higher levels.

“Everyone good?” Grayson asked, glancing around at all of us.

I nodded.

Even if Zion had barely touched base on what that email summarized.

Fuck.

Well, at least if I mess this up, maybe I’ll get to go home and sleep more.

Sounds like a pro to me.

I glanced around the room, noticing the reporters getting settled in the rows of seats.

Even the cameras and bulky microphones were being set up in the very back of the room.

Then there was the stage, which had rows of seats for each division specified to be present for this.

It was the tech division and the infinite white coats that sat with us.  

Eliza was busy talking to the reporters, coordinating everything to be prepared.

I don’t think I had actually seen her in action before, but she was killing it in all honesty.

There were other divisions that filtered in—ones  I didn’t even realize existed, but Grayson made sure to point them all out.

There were sales and marketing, acquisitions, the head of manufacturing, and even a few lawyers who casually sat down among us in the front row.

They handled patents, lawsuits, anything concerning the legal aspect of pharmaceuticals.

It was overwhelming being in a room with everyone for once.

Normally, I would only see my division—maybe the white coats in passing.

Nothing else concerned me.

Until now.

I furrowed my brows when the room suddenly fell quiet.

I mean, genuinely struck dead silent.

It was fucking weird.

Until I followed everyone’s line of sight.

And I heard the familiar click of her heels, each step precise and sharp.

She wore a crisp black blazer with tailored dress pants that clung to her waist, flowing down her long legs.

Her heels nearly fucking glistened under the fluorescent lights, and her hair was down in soft waves, allowing her bangs to frame her face.

Sienna was by her side, of fucking course.

So was Kara and Dr. Wexler.

Everyone looked at them.

Except me.

I forced myself to look away, not wanting to accidentally meet her stare.

My nerves are already a fucking mess—I don’t need her adding to it.

I squeezed my hands by my sides as soon as the reporters broke out into questions, throwing everything at her at once.

“Dr. Leclair, can you confirm whether any Phase Three trials were paused this week due to safety signals?”

“Is the FDA inspection complete, and did Levane receive a Form 483?”

“Is your father, Leon Leclair, involved in day-to-day decisions at Levane right now?”

Each question was detailed and thrown out without a further thought from the hungry reporters, annoying cameras flashing as Monroe calmly walked to center stage with her three musketeers following directly behind her.

Eliza began organizing everything as Monroe silently got seated, instructing the press to quiet down for one-at-a-time questions.

Meanwhile, I was trying not to flinch with each camera flash.

Fuck this, honestly.

Everyone else seems weirdly accustomed to this.

Even Zion looked like he fit in.

“Good morning,” her soft voice echoed throughout the dead-silent room, standing tall by her dedicated chair. “I’ll begin with a brief statement and then take questions. One question per outlet. We’re keeping this to twenty minutes so our divisions can return to work.”

I didn’t even glance in her direction, keeping my focus strictly ahead as she continued with her statement.

“Our priority at Levane has not changed. Our public safety, data integrity, and science continue to fight scrutiny,” Monroe began to speak. “Over the past week, we initiated adjustments to improve quality controls and remove restrictions between the lab and the tools that support it. These are operational refinements to accelerate reliable work without shortcuts,” she added as I tried to keep up with each complex word that fell smoothly from her lips. “Let’s begin.”

I watched as someone stood up first on Monroe’s command, blurting out the first question.

“Is Levane announcing a new drug? What exactly is LVN-401?” the man asked as I began zoning out of everything.

Essentially, this is above my pay grade.

I shouldn’t even have to be at a fucking press conference, answering any kind of questions.

Luckily, I got to sit quietly for the majority of it, staring forward at the modern digital clock on the far wall.

Then suddenly—

Zion stood up, making me glance over to him immediately.

I furrowed my brows when he motioned his head at me.

I stood before I could think it through, my brows furrowed and my stomach tied in knots.

“To both fellows,” the woman spoke with her massive iPad in hand, typing as she spoke. “What ethical guardrails do you rely on when building software for Obsira? LVN-401?”

“We’re not assigned to Obsira. We’re on infrastructure and enablement,” Zion spoke before I had a chance to, allowing me to relax slightly.

Because suddenly I’m fucking nervous.

Especially with everyone’s attention pinpointed on us.

Even hers.

I could feel her blue eyes burning into the side of my face, making the knots in my stomach worse.

“You to the left. Your thoughts?” the woman addressed me.

I parted my lips—

“Ms. Fierro,” Monroe suddenly spoke, calmly correcting the woman. “You’ll address her by her name. I assume you were briefed on the names of my employees?”

Her words were targeted, despite how calm she seemed.

The reporter seemed to blink awkwardly, nodding a few times as I tried my hardest not to give Monroe a narrowed look.

“We have, Dr. Leclair,” the reporter said, glancing back at me. “Ms. Fierro. Your thoughts, please?”

I nodded wordlessly.

But no words came out.

Words were echoing in my head, but they weren’t falling from my lips.

I was stuck, frozen like some fucking idiot, staring at the reporter waiting for my answer.

 “Let’s conclude this conference here,” Monroe’s smooth voice suddenly echoed, distracting everyone’s attention away from me. “Ensure that everyone is informed of my employees’ names next time. Otherwise, your channel won’t be invited back.”

I blinked a few times, drawing in a deep breath at her words.

A part of me wanted to think she was sticking up for me.

That she took it personally when the reporter didn’t bother to know my name.

But I knew better than to let myself go down that road—or even be flattered by it.

Not after the decisions she’s made.

I brushed past the crowds as everyone dispersed, the reporters throwing out hundreds of questions by the minute.

Cameras were flashing, and all I could feel were the tingles in my hands squeezed into fists by my side.

The bathroom.

I snuck away from the crowd to find the nearest bathroom.

Everyone seemed to be heading back up to begin their work for the day.

Meanwhile, I was stuck on the first level, roaming the empty side hallways for a bathroom.

There had to be one.

I knew there did.

It was isolated, off at the very end of the empty hallway.

A relieved breath fell from my lips, knowing I couldn’t hop on an elevator full of people right now.

I pushed past the doors into the bathroom, thanking the gods above that it was empty.

I leaned over the sink with a few deep breaths, counting to ten in my head.

Then I counted back to one, exhaling more breaths.

I washed my hands with cold water when that didn’t work, drying them before pressing my cold palms against my face to distract me from spiraling.  

I briefly closed my eyes, trying to ground myself, but the fucking fluorescent lights only made the headache pound worse at the front of my head.

God, do I hate this building.

“Liberty.”

My eyes snapped open, quickly lowering my hands from my face as soon as I met her blue eyes through the mirror.

“You said when it benefited me,” I reminded her, crossing my arms over my chest like I wasn’t just on the brink of spiraling.

“I’m not here to revisit the topic with you,” Monroe calmly said, slipping her hands from the pockets of her dress pants. “I’m here to check on you.”

“You don’t get to check on me,” I reminded her, turning around to face her with a narrowed look.

“Correct,” was all Monroe said, taking a step toward me as her eyes trailed my face.

“You also don’t get to correct people over my name,” I added, knowing it was about me.

She really just made a point for me.

It wasn’t hard to fucking conclude—I don’t know why I was trying to be in denial over it.

“Incorrect,” she just had to say, tilting her head slightly as she held my stare. “If I want them to address you properly as my employee, then they will.”

I hummed dryly, “I’m sure you don’t care how they address your other employees,” I said, leaning against the sink when she took yet another step forward.

“Suddenly, I care very much,” Monroe murmured, and I knew her words were sarcastic.

I could hear the dry humor in her tone.

Even as a heavy silence burned between us, our eyes refusing to disconnect.

It made me hold my breath, unsure what to say or do next.

If I should just leave or try to argue with her some more.

“Liberty,” she suddenly said, her stare refusing to waver from me.

Her lips parted to speak again, but she paused for a moment, making the air grow weighted around us.

I stared at her.

And she stared right back at me, her blues eyes openly trailing my face.

“Are you okay?”

Her question made something annoyingly crack inside of me.

Maybe it's because I wanted her to ask me this months ago.

I nodded before I could think it through. “I’m amazing, doc.”

Monroe’s blue eyes narrowed just slightly.

And I knew that meant she was skeptical.

She could always tell when I was lying.  

So right as she parted her lips, I walked past her.

“Liberty,” I heard her say.

Her voice was softened with me, concern laced in her tone.

It made me draw in a deep breath as I reached for the door.

The handle was cold against my palm, and time felt a little slower as I stood stuck there.

I don’t know why I was suddenly frozen, unable to take a step forward.

Then my hand shifted down from the handle.

To the lock.

It was a split decision, but maybe I was tired of all this anxiety and old emotions being dredged up.

I can give us something else to focus on.

I need something else to focus on—I need a distraction.

Monroe tilted her head when I faced her again, her blue eyes acknowledging the lock I twisted on the door.

“Liberty,” was all she said as soon as I began pulling my hair away from my face.

“I’m not doing amazing,” I suddenly admitted as I walked over to her, “But I know a way you can fix it.”

“We need to have a proper discussion before I fix anything for you,” Monroe determined, her blue eyes not wavering from mine.

“We don’t need to discuss anything,” I said as I stopped in front of her, hoping that this wouldn’t lead to rejection. “This isn’t anything serious. Just a quick hookup.”

Monroe tilted her head at my words, not bothering to hide the narrowed look she gave me.

My lips parted with an inaudible gasp when she firmly grabbed my waist, pulling me flush against her warm body.

Our faces were left barely an inch apart, her eyes searching mine as I secured my hair back.

I tried to remain nonchalant with the silence filtering in around us, her stare sinking so deeply into mine.

I could feel her warm breath against my face—her hands firm on my waist as she held me in place like she always used to.

It made me remember all of the sex we had before our agreement turned into something more.

I knew she was capable of hooking up with me.

And I needed the distraction right now.

I needed to not think of the what-ifs of that night—how she did lie, and somehow, it's slowly starting to change my perspective.

I can't let that happen.

I furrowed my brows when she reached up, gently cupping my face in her soft hand.

It made my heart have fucking palpitations, trying not to lean into her touch out of instinct.

All I could do was stare at her, confusion written all over my face.

Especially when her thumb softly caressed my cheek, still holding me firm against her body.

I wanted to just let go.

To relax against her.

But I didn’t.

I refused to make this more than it was.

Her stare shifted down to my lips, and suddenly, everything went fuzzy around me.

I couldn't help the shiver that ran through me when she slowly traced her other hand up my spine.

“Talk to me.”

Her words were barely audible between us, her stare shifting up from my lips to meet my stare.

“You can have anything you want from me. You’re aware of that,” Monroe softly whispered, tracing her fingers along my jawline that she eyed. “But you will talk to me first.”

I stared at her wordlessly, trying not to fall into the suddenly deep moment between us.

Because there’s no fucking way I’m talking to her right now.

Not about anything.

Not even about the sky being fucking blue.

Monroe’s jaw visibly tightened when I pressed my hands against her lower stomach.

“I can have anything I want?” I purposely asked, deciding to leave her other words unacknowledged.

I felt her hand press against my lower back.

Then—

Her other hand wrapped around my neck, so firmly that I gasped.

“You know the terms,” was all Monroe said, holding me in place by my neck.

I began unbuttoning her pants anyway.

“You know, I never listen that well. Maybe try repeating them,” I murmured, feeling a fire burn at the edges of my face as I stared so deeply into her blue eyes.

Her expression was unreadable as usual, somehow keeping her calm even as I undid her pants.

They always looked so good on her, annoyingly so.

Maybe I enjoyed being the one allowed to undo them for her.

I unconsciously turned my head the moment she leaned into me.

I wasn’t sure if it was for a kiss or not, but I knew I couldn’t.

If I did, then it would ruin the detachment of this moment.

I can’t kiss her.

Not now, not ever.

“Liberty,” I heard her say, letting go of my neck—

To swiftly grab my hand, just as I unzipped her pants.

“You talk, you earn,” Monroe reminded me, making me roll my eyes.

“I’ll earn somewhere else,” I mumbled, taking a forceful step back from her.

“Why are you playing this game? We know it never ends well,” Monroe reminded me, taking a large step forward.

Which singlehandedly closed the gap between us.

I didn’t bother taking a step back.

Instead, I leveled my stare with hers.

“It already hasn’t ended well,” I pointed out. “Remember?”

Monroe was silent for a moment, her blue eyes trailing my face.

She looked at me in a way that made me feel like my thoughts were being written on my forehead.

Like she could see right fucking through me.

My brows furrowed when she suddenly reached up, past my face.

Then I stumbled, my lips parting as she firmly tugged me closer by my messy ponytail.  

“Distraction,” she murmured so softly, and I could feel her hand twisting around my hair. “You need a distraction?"

“The only thing I need,” I said, trying not to grunt when she tugged my head back by my ponytail.

I grabbed her waist in response, purposely digging my nails into her covered skin.

Monroe’s soft lips twitched up slightly. “Very well,” she determined as I backed her against the sink.

“This means nothing,” I reminded her, sliding my hands down from her waist to continue undoing her pants.

“So you say,” was all she said, her stare not wavering from me as I focused on sliding my hand past her waistband.