VITAL ୨୧

Detective Xavier Allette. Broad-shouldered, perfectly dressed in a tailored black shirt, face angled toward his monitor, jaw tense, fist supporting his chin. His presence sucked all the warmth out of the room, like a vacuum. He hadn’t looked at you once. Still typing, still silent, except for the two words he’d spoken that sliced through the room like a scalpel.

“You’re late.”

Your pulse quickened. Your throat tightened with the urge to explain, to apologize, to disappear.

Don’t crack now, you tell yourself, forcing your voice to stay steady.

“I know, sir. I’m sorry. I promise it won’t happen again.”

He finally stopped typing. A slow pause. And then—he looked up. You forced yourself to not look away from his stern gaze, Your body felt like ripping apart due to the dark voidless eyes that pierced through your soul. You gulp as you hold your chin up high.

 People like confidence, right? Then you’ll show your boss some confidence, Xavier opens his mouth; we’ll never know if he was prepared to spew out some insults or a warm welcome because of your sheer determination to show your boss that you’re a reliable character that is fit to be his assistant. 

“Please allow me to make a formal introduction, Mr Allette. My name is Y/N L/N and I'm deeply honoured to be assigned as your assistant on all your cases. I swear that I will never be late ever again and I’ll make sure to provide both support and as much help as you possibly need in order for your work to go as smoothly as possible.” You ramble on, your voice cracking and shaking as you maintain your straight posture. But you’re not done. You're so determined to make a good impression, that you're unable to stop your vocal chords in spewing more pushover bullshit that you believe will get you on your new bosses good side.

“Furthermore, I have many qualifications--” “I’ve heard enough.” A cold low rumbling voice shatters through your rambling, your posture slightly twitches as you stare at him with widened eyes. Like a predator assessing his prey he slowly gets up from his seat and heads his way towards you, tilting his head slightly as he shakes his head.

“L/N, are you an incompetent individual?” Xavier asks sternly, almost sizing you up. You paused at the way he said your last name with a strange twist to it, vowels bent in ways you'd never heard before. You paused, debating whether to correct them or let it slide; before seeing his grim face and deciding to let it go. “No sir, I do not see myself as incompetent.” Straightening your posture again and confidently staring at him; a fire ignites within you. You have prepared all your life for this job; taking in any part time job possibly available to fund for your education, to fund for the life you want to live with alongside your brother. Your boss's scrutinising gaze will not be the reason for your downfall, You are not incompetent; so much further than that. He smirks dryly before walking back to his seat. “We’ll see about that, get me a coffee. Two sugars, no milk.” He commands, before typing God knows what onto his computer. You still. What. That is not the job you applied for. The detective’s assistant is meant to help with cases and files, not be his personal barista. “I'm sorry?” You say, aghast at the sheer audacity of this man. That is not your job, you're most definitely certain he has other workers that can provide his consumption of caffeine. “Hm? Do you need me to repeat it L/N?” He says still mispronouncing your last name; not even bothering to look at you as he raises his eyebrow. Fine. If he wants his shitty coffee; then you’ll be his good assistant and make the best coffee this man has ever tasted in his life. Forcing a smile on your face, you shake your head and go to open the door. “No Mr Allette, I'll be sure to make sure your coffee is splendid. The best!” You gleam with an extremely overpolite exaggerated tone. Your face drops as soon as you leave his office. What an obnoxious freak. Yes, you were five minutes late but it was your first day for God's sake! You trudge around the building forgetting the fact that you don't know where you're wandering off too, as you go up and down the elevator trying to find the stupid kitchen for the stupid coffee you need to make for your stupid boss. -

-

- Finally, you found the office kitchen, trudging into it, you don't even glance at the lavish layout, too bothered by your bosses order as you reach for a random mug and a jar of coffee powder.  Peeking at the label, you scoff knowing immediately it does not fit into your meagre lifestyle. “Oh wow look at me! I'm 25 years old and I act like I'm 55! I think I'm better than everyone else just because I attended Maketa academy, blah blah, I'm the most obnoxious man alive.” You mutter in a deep voice, mocking your boss as you squeeze your eyes shut in frustration, placing two teaspoons of sugar into the steaming void of black coffee; stirring rapidly with annoyance laced in your voice. “Woah, who are we talking about?” A light honey-like voice giggles behind you. You jump and let out a yelp; the spoon that was stirring the coffee jumps with you as drips of hot coffee drizzles onto your hand. “Ouch, fuck, fuck!” 

Wincing as you grab onto your hand and wipe the remnants of the boiling water onto your skirt. The man behind you gasps as he quickly moves your hands to the sink. 

“Oh sorry sorry! I didn't mean to frighten you.” he exclaimed apologetically as he rubs your hand under the cool water pouring down from the sink. “No no, it's not your fault, I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings..” You say with annoyance in your voice, not directed at the man beside you; but instead at yourself and your boss. You glance up at the man and you notice his furrowed eyebrows as he washes your hand gently.

His slightly tanned face appeared quite feminine, The man's sun kissed hair was messy and ruffled in a boyish way; clearly bleached blonde as you notice his long dark eyelashes that assembled well with his almond upturned shaped eyes. His irises a light hazel which highlighted well with the smudged eyeliner at the corner of his eyelids. His nose, button shaped and his lightly coloured lips formed a worried pout. He wore a white shirt with a few buttons undone; as you notice his slender yet well built frame. You thought that he belonged in a pop group instead of a criminal investigation department.

You were staring so hard at the guy; analysing each of his features you don't seem to notice the water no longer soaking your skin. He turns towards you, beaming before smirking at your dazed out stare. He winks as he waves a hand in your face. You blink before looking away and putting your hand near your side, Muttering a small thanks before attempting to grab the coffee mug and go your separate ways.

However, the blonde man appeared to have a different idea as he grabs your hand, albeit a bit too tightly as he stares at you with wide interested eyes.

“I haven't seen you around this place before. I'm sure I’d remember a face as pretty as yours~.” His voice is playful and flirtatious. “My name is Kurai, but most people just call me Ku!” 

You turn to look at him fully as you smile happily at his friendly words. “Ah nice to meet you Ku, I'm Y/N, the new assistant for Detective Allete.” You hold your hand out waiting for him to shake it but he instead brings it to his lips and lightly pecks the back of your hand. ‘He really belongs at a concert..’

“So, you’re the unlucky one, huh?” Ku chuckles as he pats your head. From the first impression alone, it’s clear he’s a pretty touchy guy. You nod, eyes drifting to the floor.

“Unfortunately, yeah. Does he act like that with everyone?” you mutter, scoffing as you grab your cup of coffee, fingers curling tightly around it.

Kurai scrunches his nose, still grinning as he nods. “Yup—total uptight ass. I don’t need detective skills to guess you were mocking him right from the start.” He laughs, tossing his head back, his prominent Adam’s apple catching the light.

You rub the back of your neck, a little embarrassed, and mumble a sheepish, “Yeah…”

“So, what’s your job here in Warren’s department?” you ask curiously.

Kurai's grin somehow grows even wider (you didn't know that was possible) as he starts drum-rolling on the countertop.

“I’m the Department Administrative Assistant,” he announces proudly.

You blink. Then blink again.

He bursts into laughter at your reaction before elaborating, “I handle scheduling, paperwork, departmental logistics—basically, I keep everything running smoothly. I know, sounds boring for a guy like me, right?”

You can’t help but nod in agreement, then quickly add, “I bet you’re great at it though!” You raise a clenched fist in the air as a show of encouragement.

“Thanks, cutie!” he chirps. “Pretty sure we’ll be working together a lot.”

You raise a playful eyebrow at the nickname. Not even ten minutes into meeting, and he’s already calling you that? Still, there’s something endearing about his energy.

With a final smile, you excuse yourself, remembering the steaming cup of black coffee in your hands and the bitter boss waiting for it. You make your way to the elevator, then to his office.

Taking an elevator and finding his office, you knock on the door, the steam of the black coffee wafting in your nose as you grimace. The door slides open, revealing your boss in the same stiff posture as before. He doesn’t even look up.

“Put it there,” he orders, pointing to an empty spot on his desk.

You walk over, carefully setting the mug down with a subtle sneer. His eyes flick toward the coffee—then trails towards the burn mark on your knuckle.

He pauses.

You quickly pull your hand away, tucking it to your side. His gaze hardens before he scoffs.

“And you claim you’re not incompetent,” he mutters. “Can’t even make a cup of coffee without injuring yourself.”  He scoffs as he waves a hand at you dismissively. “You can take your leave.”   

You clench your fists by your side, narrowing your eyes at him at his sheer audacity before gritting your teeth and smiling. “Mr Allette, there are still seven hours left of my shift. Are you sure you don't need anything else?” you ask sweetly, voice dripping with forced professionalism. Xavier finally looks up, expression unreadable, his brows creasing in mild annoyance.

“Go explore the department or something. I’ll call for you when you’re needed,” he says flatly, then turns his gaze away again.

Containing every urge you have to scream at his man, you bow slightly before leaving his office. Slapping a hand to your face as you groan loudly.

“How the hell am I going to work here?” you groan, stepping into the elevator.

The scent of coffee still lingers in your nose, more bitter than the drink itself. You spent more time making that coffee than actually talking to your boss.

What a great first day, you think sarcastically.

Well… at least Abigail and Ku weren’t so bad. Maybe you could actually be acquaintances.

You exit the elevator, deciding to take your boss’s advice and explore the department.

-

-

-

Wandering through the first floor, you pass by rooms filled with desks and small offices, where employees are busily typing away or chatting in low voices. The soft hum of printers, occasional laughter, and overlapping conversations create a quiet sort of chaos.

It quickly becomes clear just how high up your boss ranks—most of the staff work in shared spaces with only dividers for privacy. Even the private offices scattered around the floor are nowhere near the size or luxury of Xavier’s.

You meander past a few closed doors, reading the nameplates and job titles out of idle curiosity until one door, in particular, catches your attention.

‘Kurai Maeba – Department Administrative Assistant.’

A smile tugs at your lips at the familiar name. You let out a soft giggle at the ridiculous assortment of decorations on the door. Pokémon and YuGi Oh stickers are scattered around the frame, along with poorly printed jokes that lean more toward cringe than comedy. There are a few candid photos of Kurai with friends taped beside the handle, all full of goofy grins and peace signs. Even his nameplate stands out—pastel blue instead of the standard silver, the lettering engraved in a funky font.

You’re mid-snort at a particularly bad pun taped to the bottom corner when a familiar voice interrupts your amusement.

“Are you laughing at me?”

You jump slightly, turning to see Kurai standing behind you once again with a teasing smile, his tone as playful as ever.

You turn toward him, trying and failing to wipe the grin off your face. “Just admiring your… very professional decor,” you tease.

Kurai laughs, clearly proud. “Hey, don’t judge the classics. That Pikachu sticker has been here longer than half the people here.”

You shake your head with a chuckle, already feeling a little more at ease. Maybe this place won’t be so bad after all.

Valentine’s Day for Kieran was basically his second birthday. The rich boy never bought candy, why would he, when he could stock up for free just from today alone? His locker was overflowing with chocolates, candies, and love notes—notes that he didn’t even bother reading before tossing them straight into the trash. But the sweets? Oh, he made sure to keep those. Stuffing his bag full, he scoffed at the cheap, store-bought heart chocolates while setting aside the good stuff; the expensive ones, the homemade treats that probably took hours to make. Greedy. That’s all it was. Kieran was just greedy. But even with all the gifts, all the attention, all the adoration, it never really mattered—not until today. Not until he spotted one letter on his desk that actually made his heart skip a beat. Because this one? This one had to be from you. For the first time on February 14th, Kieran felt a genuine rush of excitement, something different from the usual smug satisfaction of being adored that just boosted his already huge ego. The envelope sat on his desk, neat and delicate, like it had been placed there with care—like it actually meant something. His fingers brushed over your initials written in beautiful cursive handwriting, slow and deliberate, his mind already running wild. Finally. You were finally giving in. He could already picture you, shy and flustered as you wrote it, your heart laid bare just for him. A love letter? From you? His sweet little obsession finally coming to her senses? He was grinning, twirling the letter between his fingers, taking his time, savouring the moment. Oh, you were so cute for this.

 He carefully opened the letter, fingertips tingling with anticipation. His heart was racing, his mind already running a mile a minute. What kind of sweet words did you leave for him? Were you confessing your love? Finally admitting that you couldn’t resist him any longer? God, you knew him so well! Every detail, down to the paper, the handwriting, the delicate way the envelope was sealed—it all screamed you. This was the first time that the suave playboy turned into a giggling high school girl, biting his lip to keep from grinning too wide. If he was just some regular guy, people would be throwing weird glances at him for nearly stomping his feet in excitement, but he’s Kieran, so no one does.

To be honest, all the girls around him loved it. They giggled amongst themselves, watching him act like a lovesick fool, finding it more endearing than embarrassing. Some of them seething in jealousy at the mysterious girl who got the school's renowned playboy all lovestruck like this. Man, pretty privilege was real. Any other man would’ve been clowned for this, but Kieran? No, Kieran could get away with anything—especially when he looked good doing it.

The white haired male just had to find you, had to catch a glimpse of his princess all shy and flustered from pouring out her emotions in this cute little letter. He was already going to force you into his valentines day plans-- but you, making the move first? Gosh, you never fail to surprise him. Kieran rushed around the school, finally found you hanging around the library. He waltzes over to your table, practically floating with confidence, that stupidly charming smirk plastered across his face. With an easy flick of his wrist, he spun the chair around, plopping down and draping his arms over the back like he owned the fucking place; the letter was in his hand, obnoxiously tapping it against his palm as he leaned in, way too close, eyes glinting with something dangerous beneath all that excitement.

“Sooo...” he drawled, looking at you up and down, voice smooth as ever, “...couldn’t resist me anymore, huh princess~?” the blue eyed male winked as he laughed boyishly, Though his words were condescendingly annoying, a glint of affection is laced in his orbs. 

You, the girl who just wanted some peace on this already lame ass day where you enviously stare at the lovey dovey highschoolers with, gaze up from your notebook as you stare blankly at him, forcing yourself not to immediately roll your eyes at the sight of the blue eyed playboy.  “Huh?” You blink once, and then twice at him.

Kieran scoffs out a laugh. Still so shy, bless your cute little soul. “The letter, sweetheart.” He waved it a little, like it was obvious. “Real cute of you, by the way. You always did have good taste.” Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the pastel pink letter, squinting at it before looking back at him. “What letter? Dude what the fuck are you talking about?” tilting your head as you grimace at his stupid little smirk. Kieran let out a breathy laugh, tilting his head like you just said the funniest thing in the world. “Ahh, playing shy now? That’s adorable, really,” he mused, tapping the letter against his chin. “Didn’t think you’d get cold feet after pouring your heart out like this, but it’s okay, princess. I get itttt. Big emotions can be scary!” he says with a mocking pout, leaning in closer. He reached out, trailing a finger down your arm like he was so sure this was some flirty little game. Youre playing hard to get as always, its okay! He likes the chase. However, you cant back out this easily when he literally has the physical proof of your love-- no, infatuation towards him. “You don’t have to pretend, y’know. I already know it’s from you.” his other hand tracing the first letters of your first and last name that was engraved onto the envelope. 

But the way you just kept staring at him, utterly lost, was starting to poke holes in his fantasy. No. No, you were just messing with him. Testing him. Right? Rolling your eyes, you snatch the letter out of his hand, too tired to deal with whatever weird fantasy he had cooked up this time. With an exhausted sigh, you scanned the handwriting, flipping the letter over to really stare at the initials , and then—oh. Oh, this was actually hilarious. Your hand slaps your mouth as you stifle a giggle.

“Kieran,” you deadpanned, looking him dead in the eyes, “this isn’t from me. It’s from the other girl in our chemistry class. Y’know, the one with the same initials as me?” Silence.

Kieran just stood there, blinking, like his brain was trying to reboot. His fingers twitched slightly at his sides, and for the first time all day, he didn’t have a slick response ready. You watched, unimpressed, as his expression went through about ten different emotions at once—confusion, disbelief, denial, a little more denial—before finally landing on something unreadable. “...what?” He freezes for a solid minute before letting out a light chuckle, rolling his shoulders back like this was no big deal. “Ohh, right. Of course. The other girl.” He nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets, throwing on that easy, practiced smirk. “I knew that! I was just.. I was just joking, silly~!”

But inside? He was tweaking.

'What the actual hell. What do you mean it’s not from you? Then why the hell did it feel like you? Look like it was from you? Sound like you?' His heart was racing, but not in the good way anymore. His palms felt weirdly clammy. His eye twitched. 'No. No, no, no. This doesn’t make sense. This was supposed to be from you. This was supposed to be our moment. So why— who, who even is the other girl??? Has he ever even interacted with her??' Suddenly the heartfelt words that adorned the letter just seemed incredibly corny and cheesy to him. The bright pastel colours decorated along the paper blazed in his eyes, practically laughing at the delusional boy that stood before it. 

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow at him. “Uh-huh. Sure you did.” Kieran swallowed. Act natural. Act. Natural. The playboy opened his mouth, ready to spit out some smooth, damage-control comeback—but nothing came out. For the first time in his entire life, he had nothing. Just sitting there, frozen, swallowing the most brutal, humiliating reality check of his existence. And the worst part? You were just staring at him. Not even amused. Not even mad. Just tired and annoyed.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose like you were physically in pain just being near him. “I literally don’t have time for this. Happy Valentine's Day man.”  You say with a tight lipped smile, grabbing your stuff as you pat his shoulder. And with that, you turned on your heel and walked away.

Kieran just stood there, gripping the letter so hard it crumpled in his palm. His ears were burning, his jaw tight, but his smirk? Still there. Bruised ego? Maybe. But shattered? Please. A mix-up like this wasn’t enough to shake him. You didn't straight up reject him, it was just a misunderstanding! It was all that stupid girl's fault for having the same initials as his dear soulmate! As if you could ever actually reject him.

No, no, this just meant you were still fighting it. Still playing your little games, still too stubborn to admit what you really wanted. Him. That was fine. He had all the time in the world to let you come to your senses. You’d see it eventually—how you were meant for him, how there was never any other option. And when you finally stop running? Oh, princess he’d be right there, waiting. Besides, there was always next year, and that time; he is certain that the only chocolates he’d be getting is from you.

Ignoring the piercing whine in her ears, her heart froze at the sound of shuffling drawing closer. Her legs wobbled, threatening to give out, but the surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins kept her moving forward. An ear striking screech bursts from the girl’s throat, desperate to catch the attention of any passing drivers or hikers.

How could she be so foolish? It’s four in the morning, and she’s in the middle of nowhere, with two freaks relentlessly chasing her.

Her scream was a terrible mistake. It brought her no closer to freedom instead only closer to her pursuers. Their shouts echo behind her, filled with words she can’t—and doesn’t want to comprehend.

Pleas, threats, and bursts of anger escape from their mouths but the only thing that Y/N had her mind on was getting her brother and leaving this shithole. Y/N ran and ran, but to her dismay and an almost comical cruel sense of bad luck , Her vision was slammed with a wall ruined with graffiti that was now taunting her from her inescapable future. Her breathing slows as she stumbled back, desperately praying for anything that could save her. Surely they weren't close, she put in all this effort, they cannot be close! With trembling caution, she moved backward, her steps deliberate and silent. She avoided every brittle branch and insect littering the forest floor, straining to make as little noise as possible. Her back pressed into something soft yet unyielding, carrying the earthy scent of firewood mixed with the sharp tang of blood that she’ll always loathe.  Y/N’s breath hitched, frozen in her chest as the sound of heavy breathing enveloped her ears from just behind.

‘Fuck.'

“You can’t run from us. It’s two against one, cutie.”

Even with her back turned, she could picture his smug, shit-eating smirk. A chill ran down her spine as his arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, trapping her. God, she wished she had a bat so she could beat him till he was a lifeless piece of flesh that she could point and laugh at. Too bad that would never be possible, even if she had a weapon to begin with. Deep down, Y/N knew there was no escaping this. But with every ounce of strength her battered body could summon, she let out the loudest scream she could muster; a semblance of hope in her body that somebody could save her. It tore through the cold night air before everything turned black. The last thing she heard was another man's footsteps approaching them, and two voices she made an oath to never hear, conversing. All she wanted was a fucking pay raise.

-

-

- Y/N buttoned her blouse with a giddy smile, rushing around her room in search of the shoes she’d bought just for this day. "I can't believe I got the job! I'm so excited, this still feels so surreal."  she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm as she grabbed her phone, waiting for her friend’s response. "Girl, I'm happy for you!” her friend shouted over the line, her voice barely cutting through the loud music and chatter in the background. “Just work hard, and you’ll be promoted to detective in no time! My little Sherlock Holmes~” Y/N scoffs out a laugh before she shakes her head at the chaos on the other end. Normally, she’d lecture her friend about hosting a party at seven in the morning, but today, she was too nervous and way too excited about her first day to care. "Ahaha, Yeah  I don't know about that... I'm still in shock that I got the job to be the assistant, let alone be the main thing. I just hope the person in charge of me is nice." The E/C-eyed girl replied looking at the ceiling , nervously biting her nails whilst walking back and forth in her room.

"Don't stress about it! I'm sure they'll be nice, babes. And you should ju-" Y/N’s friend was abruptly cut off by a guy shouting in the background, his voice carrying over the music: “Ayra! Get back to the party already!” "Hold on a sec Noel! Im talking to Y/N" she yells back with an obvious scowl on her face… Well, Y/N was almost positive that she displayed one based on the tone of her voice. "It's fine! You go do your shit, I gotta’ finish getting ready." "Okay Okay, message me after your shift ends. I wanna know everything~!" The bubbly girl says as she mimics a kiss sound. Despite Ayra not being able to see Y/N, she smiles with a soft gaze at the phone before hanging up. Staring into the mirror, she carefully assessed her outfit. A sleek black blouse layered over a white undershirt paired perfectly with a matching black pencil skirt. Light makeup enhanced her features, and her neatly styled hair framed her face just right. She smoothed her clothes with her hands, beaming widely as she twirled in front of the mirror. Y/N gathered all her essentials, carefully packing them into her bag before stepping out of her apartment. She locked the door with a quick twist of the key, then paused to double-check it twice…just to be sure; it was a habit she had done ever since she lived in her parents home. 

Stepping into the elevator, she pressed the button for the ground floor. Knowing the ride would take a while, she lived on the second-highest floor, after all, she pulled out her phone to check the time. It was 7:15 a.m. Perfect. With the bus journey to the department taking only 30 minutes, she was right on schedule (which was always a struggle for her.) A grin spread across her face as she opened her email app and tapped on the message from the 'Warrens Department.' Her heart fluttered nervously as she re-read the letter, scanning each line to ensure she hadn’t missed anything important. As she scrolled to the bottom, her brows furrowed. There, tucked away, was a link she hadn’t noticed before.

'Shit I must've missed this' She thought with worry before quickly clicking the link, silently thanking her instincts for prompting her to double-check the message. The link was a profile of the detective that she would be working with. Looking at the picture, she notices that he was a very conventionally attractive male. The formally dressed girl squints her eyes before assessing the man that her eyes laid upon.

Xavier Allette, it read. Twenty-five years old, with five years of experience as a detective.

‘Holy shit, he became a detective at 20? I was still in university then.’ Y/N’s thoughts wandered briefly as she reminisced about her own journey, a flicker of envy stirring as she compared herself to her boss.

Letting out a breath of relief that she didn't know she had; The assistant was expecting an old cruel man as her boss, but to her luck, it was someone of a similar age to her. And, as a bonus, he wasn’t bad to look at either.

Y/N knew better than to judge someone based on their appearance, but as her cheeks warmed, she couldn’t help but blush at the handsome face staring back at her from the screen. A straight pale face, with a clean-shaven look. His hair was a wavy deep black, tussled formally. Eyes sharp and matched with his extremely dark hair. Y/N couldn’t help but notice the absence of a glint or any sign of life in his pupils. ‘I’m overthinking it,’ she told herself. ‘He’s just posing for the picture’. It had to be her psychology degree kicking in, making her analyze every feature of his face like a subject in a case study. Xavier’s nose was strikingly defined, and his lips were full, holding a slightly warm tint that gave his serious expression a subtle softness. Though he was wearing a suit, anyone could tell the detective worked out as his jaw was sharp and his shoulders were broad. It was clear that he took good care of himself.

The only other information displayed on his profile was a list of the cases he had worked on and details about his educational background. 'Maketa Academy?!' That was the most prestigious high school that Y/N had ever heard of. You could either get in with a scholarship or a lot of money. Unfortunately for her, she had been neither crazy smart nor crazy rich, so attending a place like that had never been an option. Y/N couldn’t tell whether Xavier had gotten in through wealth or intellect, but either way, it was impressive. Her train of thought abruptly halted as the elevator chimed, signaling her arrival on the first floor.

Turning off her phone, She exits the building before walking a short distance to the bus so she could arrive at the destination where she was going to be working.

'Please be nice to me, Warrens Department.'

-

-

-

Y/N rushed out of the bus, the clock read 8:00 am. The bus kept on delaying because of the traffic that the driver faced. The 15 minutes that she was hoping she had left to spare, disappeared all because of not getting a driver's licence! Cursing at herself, she ran to the building that was two minutes away. She could get there in ten seconds, her stubbornness is saving her life today.

The girl stared in awe at the building for a second. It was massive and incredibly modern. A large sign labelled Warrens Department was placed right in the middle of the building. Shaking her head, she scans the key card that came into the mail a week ago and fixes any loose hairs before walking into the building.

8:01 am, Already a minute late, though not much of a difference, she didn't want to disappoint her boss on the first day. Power walking to the reception she sighs shyly before speaking up. "Hi!" Her voice cracks.

'Oh my god, first I'm late, now my voice cracks, I should just quit my job and leave this e-' "Hello! Who’re  you? I've never seen you before?" The ginger girl behind the desk questioned loudly. Her light southern accent peeked through. The red-haired was incredibly short, her face caked with pink-themed makeup matching her formal pink outfit. Y/N thought the receptionist was cute and seemed nice too! If she wasn't too busy stressing about being late, she'd love to be her friend. "I'm the detective's new assistant— Xaviers Allette's assistant." Y/N rambles, hands shaking with nerves.

"Y/N L/N?" The receptionist questioned with eyebrows raised, Y/N nods quickly and shows her key card to the lady. "I'm Abigail!" her smile drops, "Also, you should probably head over to his office quickly, Mr Allette hates tardiness.. a lot." It was now Y/N's turn for her face to drop, she mumbles a quick thank you before running off.She stops in her tracks as she realised her stupid mistake. "Hey Abigail, what's his room number?" Y/N spoke rushing back to the desk. Reaching halfway, the red-haired girl puts her hand out, ordering her to stop running back. "It's on the second floor, room 11, hurry!" She yells, shaking her hand. The late assistant puts a thumbs up as a way of saying thank you before completely ignoring the elevator and rushing up the stairs. Turning left she finds the room that is the lead detective. On the door, a silver plate is shown with  'Room 11' and 'Xavier Allette' engraved onto them in a fancy font.. It was clear that his room was the biggest on the floor.

Wiping the sweat off her hands and re-checking herself on the reflection of the plate, she checks the time. 

8:05 am.

Y/N knocks on her boss's door. The door opens automatically, she notices the man that was just on her screen almost an hour ago, sitting down with his eyes furrowed and lips pulled into a frown.  His eyes were fixated on his computer screen, fist propped against his chin. The assistant looks around while patiently waiting for him to say something.

20 seconds passed and all that she could hear were the sounds of him typing. the h/c hair-coloured girl clears her throat.

"Good morning, sir. My name is Y/N L/N, and Im p-"

"You're late." A deep, harsh voice cuts her off.