Dose 𝓝ine

Dose Nine Observations:
Subject aims to be treated fairly.

⨳ ⨳ ⨳

“I’m not reporting to you.”

It was the first thing I said as soon as she had the doors shut behind us.  

“Is that what this is about, Liberty?” I heard her say as I faced the windows, refusing to look at her. “I’ll assign you to someone else.”

“No, everyone reports to her. I have to report to her, too,” I insisted.

“Well, you’re not everyone. And you’re not reporting to her,” Monroe calmly disagreed.

Her choice of words made me squeeze my hands tighter into fists, probably drawing blood from my nails, digging into my skin.

I am everyone.

I became a part of everyone months ago.

I want to be everyone.

“I don’t want fucking special treatment,” I said, shaking my head to myself.

“I don’t like how she speaks to you. Therefore, I don’t want you reporting to her,” Monroe emphasized, her voice just feet away from me. “It’s far from special treatment. I would do it for the rest of the staff here.”

“Well, she’s the same with everyone else,” I scoffed, turning around to finally face her. “Now what?”

Monroe calmly shrugged, her blue eyes holding mine, “Then everyone can report to me, as well.”

“No,” I said with a groan, growing more frustrated by the second. “No-no-no, because you didn’t decide this until you wanted me to report to you. Everyone has reported to her for a long time, changing it now would make it seem like—”

“Why does it matter what it seems like, Liberty?” she cut me short, sliding her hands into her pockets.

She’s so fucking calm.

Why?

Why do I feel like I’m about to explode like a nuclear bomb?

“It matters because it’s humiliating,” I unconsciously quoted Briggszilla’s annoying words.

It made me draw in a deep breath, wondering why I was actually quoting her right now.

Maybe it did bother me more than I liked to admit.

“Humiliating?” Monroe asked, tilting her head.

“Nothing. It really doesn’t even matter,” I determined, not wanting to rehash the office whore speculation. “Just stop treating me differently, and please, for the love of god, stop looking at me.”

Monroe’s brows furrowed. “Stop looking at you?”

“Staring—you stare at me, and it makes everyone stare at me. It’s so obvious, you don’t even try to hide it, and you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to just stop in your tracks and stare at me when you want to,” I rushed out as I stepped closer to her, leaving a couple of feet between us.  “And you definitely don’t get to switch me from Briggs because you don’t like how she speaks to me—you aren’t allowed to give me special treatment, or anything for that matter. Not after what you did.”

“I’m aware, Liberty,” she had the nerve to say.

I threw my head back with a deep sigh. “Then why are you doing this? If you’re aware, then why are we standing here having this conversation?”

“It’s not something I can simply unlearn,” Monroe sighed, suddenly slipping her hands from her pockets to shrug her white coat off. “I’ve always protected you.”

“No,” was all I could say as she flung the coat on the nearby chair. “Put that back on,” I suddenly said, not wanting to even see her exposed arms right now.

“The coat?” Monroe asked, her brows furrowing deeper.

“Put it on,” I repeated again, glancing away from her entirely.

“I’m hot. This conversation, you standing there, Kara Briggs—” Monroe suddenly paused, letting out a deep sigh. “It’s too hot to wear that coat right now, Liberty.”

“I’m leaving anyway,” I determined, taking a step forward, closer to her. “I’ll report to Briggs, as usual.”

“I said no. That’s final,” Monroe said, her blue eyes burning into my face regardless of whether I met her stare or not.

“I won’t report to you. I can’t report to you. Everyone already thinks—” I cut myself short, stressfully tucking the stray hairs behind my ears.

The last thing I should do is tell her what Kara said.

Otherwise, I definitely won’t be reporting to her again.

Reporting to Kara was the last thing I imagined I would want, but it’s the best option.

Maybe the only one.

“They think what?” Monroe carefully asked, her voice lowered between us.

“Nothing,” I sighed, squeezing my hands back into fists as I counted to ten in my head.

“Liberty,” her voice echoed.

I could feel her presence closer to me than before, even if I was staring at my heels.

“I don’t want to argue with you,” her soft voice spilled into my head as I focused on counting backward.

“I want to argue with you,” I forced out, trying to focus on counting back to ten again. “That’s all I ever want to do,” I decided, since she said she didn’t want to do that.

If she didn’t want it, then I did.

“We’ll argue then,” Monroe had the nerve to determine.

“Oh my god,” I groaned, “You are impossible.”

“No, you’re impossible,” Monroe said.

“You’re literally just disagreeing to argue with me,” I pointed out, finally glancing up from my heels.

I rolled my eyes the moment I noticed her lips twitched up into the most subtle smile.  

Then somehow my lips tugged up, whether I liked it or not, making me glance back down at my heels.

Of course, she would smile right now.

We’re in the middle of a fucking argument, and she’s smiling like the maniac she is.

“You’re weird,” I mumbled.

“I’m aware,” was all she said. “Are we done arguing now?”

“No,” I immediately said.

“Okay,” Monroe agreed, making my smile grow even more.

“Fine, whatever, I’ll report to you. Just stop staring at me,” I suddenly said, glancing up from my heels to meet her stare. “And everyone has to get the same treatment.”

“Everyone gets the same treatment,” Monroe agreed, her blue eyes staring at my lips, tugged up in a smile. “Should I put this into writing?”

I pursed my lips tightly together, hating the smile on my lips.  

“No,” I determined. “I don’t trust you with the fine print.”

“Smart girl,” Monroe murmured.

My stomach physically tilted at her words, but I only drew in a deep breath, “I declare this argument concluded.”

“As you wish,” Monroe murmured.

I nodded once, about to walk past her.

At least until I remembered something.

“The yogurt parfait,” I suddenly said, looking over at her.

Monroe furrowed her brows. “What yogurt parfait?” she asked, turning to face me entirely. “Did you want one?”

I blinked blankly at her quick offer. “No,” I said. “If I wanted one, I would get it for myself.”

“Of course,” she didn’t hesitate to agree.

I rolled my eyes at her. “Eliza got you a yogurt parfait when we were out for lunch,” I briefly explained. “It’s just Greek yogurt, granola that the menu said was made in-house, and fresh fruit.”

Monroe tilted her head, emphasizing her already sharp jawline, “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to. Just eat the stupid parfait,” I said, walking away from her before she could say anything else.

“Thank you for looking at the menu, Liberty,” she just had to say as I reached for the door handle.

This entire situation is annoying.

“Well, I wanted it for myself. That’s why I knew,” I unconsciously lied, twisting the doorknob.

Monroe only hummed. “Right,” she murmured. “Finish what work you can today.”

“Fair treatment,” I reminded her.

“Pass the message along to everyone else then,” she determined, earning a long sigh from me.

“Fine,” I mumbled, tugging the door open.

I refused to glance over my shoulder as I left her office.

I just stepped out and pulled the door shut behind me.

I also flashed Sienna a fake smile as I walked past, suddenly feeling a little better now.

There wasn’t that heaviness weighing on me—I also didn’t feel as pent up.

Now, I could finally get the rest of my work done.

The tech division was just as I left it, keyboard clicks invading the silence, and everyone focused on their computers.

Except Grayson and Zion, who both looked up the moment I verged closer to my desk.

“Hey,” I heard Grayson whisper, diverting my attention to him. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” I didn’t hesitate to say, sitting back down at my desk. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“We all saw you and Dr. Leclair walk past,” Grayson explained, making me purse my lips tightly together.

Especially with Zion’s stare burning into the side of my face.

“Another dress code issue,” I quickly lied, refusing to glance away from my computer as I logged in. “It’s settled now.”

“That’s good,” Grayson determined.

“As long as it’s settled,” Zion said, letting out a deep sigh.

I knew there was a deeper meaning to his words.

He didn’t like that I was with her—that was painfully obvious.

“Dr. Leclair said to finish what work you can,” I suddenly said, recalling the last part of our conversation. “She told me to pass the message along.”

“She did?” Grayson asked, and his tone made me glance up, noticing his confusion immediately.

“Yeah-uh, I think we’re all reporting to her instead of Briggs,” I explained, realizing how my words probably sounded.

I shouldn’t be passing along any kind of message for Monroe.

I see how that looks now.

“We’re reporting to her now?” Zion clarified, irritation seeping into his tone.

“But we’ve always reported to Briggs,” Grayson added.

I shrugged. “I guess not anymore. I don’t know, maybe ask about it.”

Grayson laughed.

Like, genuinely laughed.

“We don’t speak to Dr. Leclair,” Grayson said, his amusement growing. “She speaks to us.”  

His words made me furrow my brows, wondering what that even meant.

Only she can speak to them?

They don’t get to speak to her first?

It doesn’t make sense.

“I think she’ll email all the details then,” I suddenly determined, knowing it wasn’t my business about who spoke to who.

“Most likely,” Grayson agreed, his blue eyes lingering on me for a moment.

I thought he would eventually look down at his computer.

He never did.

“What?” I asked, glancing down at my computer as I loaded up my work from earlier.

“Nothing,” Grayson murmured, shrugging his shoulders as he glanced back down at his computer.

It was silent for approximately five seconds before Grayson looked back up with an impatient sigh.

“It would take a blind person not to notice that something is up,” Grayson suddenly spoke, his blue eyes back on me.

I didn’t look away from my computer. “Nothing is up.”

“She followed after you,” Grayson emphasized. “I don’t think any of us has seen her follow anything.”

 “She told me to go to her office. I just walk really fast,” I quickly lied, earning a stifled chuckle from Zion.

I shot him a narrowed look, which seemed to make his amusement grow.

I know the lie was stupid, but I didn’t have anything else.

“Yeah, uh, Libs is a really fast walker,” Zion said, clearing his throat as he tried to push his amusement away.

Grayson looked between us skeptically.

And I swear, Zion fighting his smile wasn’t helping matters.

“Okay, fast walker,” Grayson finally determined, and I hoped that would be my nickname.

It was better than anything related to office whore.

“Just promise me you’ll fill me in if anything happens?” Grayson suddenly asked, a hilariously desperate look on his face.

I think he feeds on gossip.

At this point, I wonder if gossiping keeps him alive.

Or maybe he’s some kind of witch, and it stops him from aging.  

“Promise,” I finally mumbled, even if I planned to keep anything relating to Monroe to myself.

The last thing I need to be doing is gossiping about what has happened with her.

That would for sure give me the bad reputation I’ve been avoiding.

“Can we get back to work now?” I asked, clicking a few times on my keyboard.

“Go for it,” Grayson happily mumbled as Zion slipped his headphones back over his ears.

I immediately zoned back in on the project I had left off on.

I didn’t care what Monroe said—I planned to finish yesterday’s and today’s work before the end of the workday.   

I was locked into my computer, forgetting to even blink properly as I clicked and typed quicker than usual.

All I remembered was Zion telling me he was leaving.

I think I briefly agreed to do dinner with him and Sarai, too.

Luckily, Briggszilla didn’t interrupt my workflow like she had done earlier.

I don’t think I saw her once, actually.

The next time I looked up, the entire tech division was empty.

Not a single person was in sight.

I didn’t care.

It was still broad daylight out, and I wanted to finish this last project.

Then I would be all caught up, and no one could say shit to me anymore.

I worked faster, not bothering to glance up again as I clicked and typed with intention.

I told myself a few more minutes, assuming it wouldn’t be much longer until I finished.

I fucking flinched when I finally glanced over—

Noticing her presence at the doorway.

Her toned arms were crossed over her chest, her blue eyes already pinned on me.

I refused to glance at her biceps once, which were left exposed by her black collared shirt.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked, pressing my hand to my racing chest. “How long were you even standing there for?”

“Not long,” Monroe said, leaning away from the wide door frame.

“You can’t just watch your employees—or anyone for that matter. It’s creepy,” I pointed out, sliding my headphones off my head fully.

“They’re my employees. I’ll do as I please,” Monroe just had to say, walking over toward me.

“We agreed no more staring,” I emphasized.

“There was never an agreement,” she pointed out, stopping by my chair.

I didn’t turn to face her, especially with our current height difference.

“Here to embarrass me about how I’m dressed indecently again?” I purposely asked.

“You felt embarrassed?” her soft voice echoed.

“No,” I mumbled, realizing that made me sound weak. “I just assumed you would pull me aside to tell me I’m dressed indecently instead of doing it publicly.”

“You wanted me to pull you aside, Liberty?” she asked, making me roll my eyes.

“No,” I firmly answered, staring at my computer screen, even if the last thing I could focus on was work with her standing by me. “I just thought that would be more respectful.”

“You wanted fair treatment,” Monroe pointed out.

“That’s before you knew I wanted fair treatment,” I argued, clicking around on my computer a few times.

Silence.

That’s all I was met with.

Then I noticed the fading sun gleaming against my screen—reflecting her stare that was already on me.

“I’ve never commented on anyone’s outfit here,” Monroe suddenly spoke, her stare still holding mine through the reflecting computer screen. “That’s someone else’s job.”

I knew what she was implying.

More unfair treatment.

Even if it was in the form of embarrassing me.

“Let someone else do their job then,” I mumbled, finally glancing away from her stare through the screen.

“I embarrassed you,” she echoed my previous words back to me.

I didn’t know what to say to her.

Not with her voice as softened as it was.

How it was quieter, a murmur between us.

Almost like she was thinking aloud, processing what I had said.

“I’m trying to work,” I said as soon as she sat down on my desk beside the keyboard, her presence barely centimeters away.

“I have no interest in the dress code,” Monroe said.

I lazily raised my brows, “That’s great for you,” I mumbled, still not meeting her stare.

“But then you come here, wearing what you’re wearing. Wexler is looking, Briggs corrects you as if she gets to discipline you if you do otherwise, and—” I heard her draw in a deep breath.

It made me glance down at my keyboard, trying my hardest not to glance up and meet her stare.

“I had no intention of embarrassing you, Liberty.”

Her words were genuine, softened between us as she stared at me while I looked anywhere but at her.

“Thanks for the clarification, doc,” I mumbled, rolling my tense shoulders back as I glanced up at my computer screen.

Monroe hummed, the sound soft in her throat.

“I’m going to finish up with work now,” I determined, trying to get her far away from me.

“I told them to shut off the power to the tech division in five minutes,” Monroe said, making my stare snap up immediately.

Monroe’s lips twitched up, having the audacity to smile at my irritation.  

“Why would you do that?” I asked in a scoff. “I’m right in the middle of this.”

“It can wait until tomorrow,” Monroe determined as she stood from my desk, dusting off her hands. “You got done what you could, as I specified earlier.”

“I didn’t get done what I could—you cut the power before I fucking could,” I emphasized, turning my head to meet her stare.

“It’s past work hours,” Monroe smoothly determined, motioning me to stand. “Let’s go.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I immediately clarified.

“I never said you were,” she murmured, taking a step closer to me. “But you aren’t permitted on this floor past work hours.”

I drew in a sharp breath when she leaned over, reaching past me for my mouse.

A tightness shot through my jaw, my eyes completely betraying me as they trailed her body bent over, inches from me.

Her floral perfume wafted around me, her dress pants clinging just right to her small waist.

Or maybe it was how they accentuated her hips, her long silky hair spilling past her shoulders.

“Fine,” I suddenly said, shooting up from my office chair before I could look at her any longer.

If anything, I glanced away from her overall direction, focusing on packing my stuff into my tote bag.

The sun was even dimmer, the warmth no longer shooting in from the window, and the sunset faded.

I tugged my bag over my shoulder with a sigh more dramatic than necessary, reaching for my phone on the desk as Monroe finally shut down my computer after saving my work.

She turned her head just as I grabbed my phone, leaving our faces centimeters apart.

My phone was cold in my hand, grounding me as I stood, stuck frozen, staring down into her endless blue eyes.

The silence between us was heavier, our eyes refusing to disconnect.

Then—

The lights shut off.

Everything shut off, actually.

The faded sunset only helped outline the office very faintly.

Including her face, emphasizing the sharpness of her jawline, and the curve of her small nose.

“This was so unnecessary,” I mumbled, taking a large step back from her. “What kind of person shuts off the power completely? Never mind, I know who. A maniac who likes to stare at people.”

I heard Monroe hum.

It was an amused hum.

She’s actually fucking amused by this right now.

“I’m leaving,” I determined, carefully walking past her with what vision I had in this darkness.

I knocked over the chair and nearly tripped over my fucking heels trying to walk out of the dark office.

 “Need help?” I heard her murmur.

“No,” I immediately said, trying my best to walk a few more steps as I struck my hands out to feel around.

I could hear her heels clicking close behind me, measuring her steps with mine.

Eventually, we made it out to the wide hallway—luckily, the edges were dimly lit up, illuminating the way to the elevator.

It was silent between us, only our heels clicking out of sync echoed throughout the hallway.

Monroe’s steps were more precise, the clicking of her heels sharper compared to mine.

I could feel it.

Her stare on me as I tried to mind my business like a normal person.

The elevator felt miles away.

And I swear it felt like minutes before it dinged open.

I focused on counting in my head.

Then counting backward again.

Once the elevator dinged open, I walked to the very back corner, furthest away from her as she stepped on and silently clicked the lobby.

I didn’t look at those shiny doors.

The ones that were overly polished.

So polished that I could see both of our hazy reflections.

I avoided looking in her overall direction.

I looked at my heels to ensure I didn’t glance over unnecessarily.

I began counting again, waiting patiently for the elevator to descend to the lobby.

I tried not to inhale her familiar perfume or focus on her presence just feet away from me.

This elevator feels so much smaller with her on it.

Even the lobby felt small as I tried to walk as distanced as I could from her.

Of course, there was another elevator ride down to the parking garage.

The silence felt so heavy that it was suffocating.

I could feel her stare on me the entire time, even if I didn’t bother to look up.

And then finally—

The elevator dinged open to the parking garage.

Thank god.

“Liberty.”

I spoke too soon.

“Yes?” I asked, not bothering to look over at her as I walked off the elevator.

“Have a good night,” was all Monroe said.

It was enough to make me glance over my shoulder, briefly locking eyes with her.

Then I forced a nod.

“You too, doc,” I mumbled, glancing back forward as I walked to my car.

I swear, I let out the deepest breath once I had slid into the leather interior, the new car smell still clinging to the interior of my Porsche.

I didn’t waste any time getting the fuck out of the parking garage and heading home, especially after the long day I had.

Then—

I remembered dinner with Zion and Sarai.

At least dinner was already handled for me.

But fuck, I just want to sleep for eternity.

I would have to suck it up, though, especially knowing I’m already on Zion’s bad side.

He was definitely irritated after everything that happened with Monroe today.

So I would go to dinner.

With Jynx, of course.

As soon as I got home, I greeted my little princess with a few scratches behind her ears and a kiss to the top of her head.

Then we walked into my bedroom together.

I immediately grabbed comfortable clothes to change into, heading into my bathroom for a quick shower.

I also tied my hair up, not wanting to get it wet.

My shower didn’t take long, considering I just washed my body and face.

I also went ahead and did my nightly skincare routine since I planned to go right to bed after dinner.

Once I was dressed in a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, I slid my slippers on and scooped Jynx into my arms.

Then it was time to head down to Zion and Sarai’s apartment.

I swear the door was answered in less than a second after I knocked once—Sarai smiling excitedly at me.

It made me tilt my head skeptically, wondering what she was up to.

“We made something different for dinner,” Sarai immediately said, noticing the look on my face. “Hi, Jynxie—”

“Ah-ah,” I said as soon as she reached for her. “I haven’t had enough Jynx time today. She’s mine until further notice.”

Sarai frowned dramatically. “Fine,” she mumbled as I walked past her into the apartment.

It smelled like spaghetti.

But then I saw hard tacos on a pan?

I’m confused.

“Spaghetti tacos,” Zion said as he stopped by the dining table with a container of sugar cookies.

The ones from the store that had that thick layer of icing and sprinkles.

These had orange frosting in the spirit of fall.

They're the kind of cookies to give you a cavity, with how sweet and sugary they are.

I couldn’t wait to dig into them after dinner with some milk.

“Did you end up finishing your work?” Zion asked as I sat down at the table, carefully lowering Jynx onto my lap.

“Uh, yeah, I just have a little bit left, but I decided to leave it for tomorrow.”

It was a lie.

I shouldn’t be lying.

Definitely not about Monroe.

That alone is a dangerous game.

But I’m well aware of Zion’s opinion here.

He strongly dislikes Monroe, and so does Sarai—for good reason.

Very good reason, what am I even saying?

“I heard all about today,” Sarai said as she sat down with Zion, who passed me a plate. “Zi filled me in.”

I gave Zion a blank look, who only shrugged in response.

“You were in her office twice. I had to fill Sarai in,” Zion explained, making me roll my eyes.

“I was only in her office for work-related issues,” I pointed out.

Another fucking lie.

Why am I lying?

“That’s all?” Sarai asked, raising a brow as she reached for one of the tacos.

“Yes, that’s all,” I blankly answered.

“We’re just trying to look out for you, Libs,” Zion defended, grabbing a taco too.

I reached for one of the spaghetti tacos as well, but now my appetite felt lost with the sudden topic of my ex-girlfriend.

 “Yeah, we’re trying to keep you accountable. I know it’s hard seeing her after all this time,” Sarai said, earning a long sigh from me. “We want to be here for you.”

“I appreciate that,” I said, reaching down to pet Jynx’s soft, snowy fur. “But I’m fine. It’s not that hard to see her. You both know how I feel about her and everything revolving around what happened with her.”

“We do,” Zion said, bringing his taco to his lips. “Just remember how hard it was. Four months ago, three months ago, even two.”

I nodded stiffly, not wanting to think back at it all.

Zion and Sarai were there for me for every midnight call.

They were there for me when I was still in Seattle all those months ago, dealing with the aftermath Monroe left me behind with.

“You deserve better,” Sarai softly whispered, flashing me a reassuring smile. “That’s why we’re being overbearing.”

“But we’re not trying to be—and I’m not trying to be a grouch at work,” Zion quickly clarified. “We love you a lot, Libs, and we know what she put you through. We also know who she really is, and what she’s capable of now.”

I nodded, recalling what I had impulsively told them just days ago about the Leclairs—and Monroe.

How they’ve killed people.

“Thanks, guys,” I said as strongly as I could, even if I suddenly felt this weight pressing on me.

I can’t believe I even let her talk to me today.

I can’t believe I smiled in front of her.

There’s so much progress at risk.

I need to get it together.

That’s all I could think about as I forced myself to eat, not wanting to wake up hungry in the middle of the night.

I had to bring my cookie to-go, hoping my appetite would magically come back later.

Jynx was rigid in my arms, staring up at me like I was some kind of alien.

She could feel that something was off.

That I was off.

I let out a deep sigh as soon as I let Jynx down, walking further into my apartment.

I didn’t bother setting the baggy with the cookie down.

I headed straight to my bedroom, passing by my bed to the bathroom.

Jynx followed behind me with curiosity, her trimmed claws pattering against the tile.

I flicked on the light and dropped the baggy on the sink, bending down to open one of the cabinets.

The elusive makeup bag was just where I put it when I had unpacked.

It was this reflective black snakeskin.

I never used the bag.

It was for storage.

I drew in a deeper breath, my chest feeling so tight that it made me wince.

I reached out for the bag, but I couldn’t quite grab it.

I couldn’t bring myself to.

I just stared at it, holding my hand out, barely grazing the edge of it.

“Fuck,” I whispered, pulling my hand away before I could convince myself to unzip the bag of memories.

Then I glanced up when I heard my phone buzz, diverting my attention to the device on the countertop.

Eliza.

Her name was displayed brightly on my screen.

I grabbed my phone without a further thought, my brows furrowed as I quickly unlocked it.

Eliza: Hey! Just wanted to check in on you. Today was intense. Hope you got all your work done without any burnout.

The engagement party invite she had sent earlier was just above her recent text that I found myself smiling at.

It was thoughtful of her to text after everything that happened today.

Then again, I nearly had a fucking breakdown in front of everyone.

I briefly glanced down at the stupid snakeskin makeup bag—then I closed the cabinet, determining I wouldn’t be unzipping Pandora’s box tonight.

Instead, I grabbed my phone to text Eliza back.

Then I grabbed the baggy with the cookie in it, deciding to still make the most of my night after the day I had.