stick

“Clearly.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to dinner. I had a fever, I went unconscious-” you tried to apologise before she could fire the bullet of accusation.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” she asked.

“That was wrong, I know, but I just needed time to recover, and I was going to call you as- as soon as I got home, I swear,” you stuttered through every word, your fingers clinging around Leon’s hoodie tightly.

“You embarrassed us.”

“I know and I swear next time this won’t—“

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?” you said louder, making your mother’s eyes widen.

“You don’t show up to a dinner with important people, and instead you go running off with your boss over the weekend and don’t contact me at all!” she raised her voice, but her body remained still, “I was worried sick. But you’re busy flirting your way up the ladder I see.”

“It wasn’t like that, Mom, he was making sure I was okay after I collapsed, please, believe me,” you begged, wanting her to believe in the best version of you, but all she ever saw in you was your mistakes.

One big body of mistakes and wasted potential.

Her eyes narrowed, sharp and unyielding. “And yet, you didn’t tell me. You didn’t even answer my calls. Do you know how that looks?”

“I was sick!” you exclaimed, meeting her eyes but the pure force of her stare brought yours back to the ground.

“Excuses! Always excuses with you! Have some respect for your family before you go sleeping around with your boss!” she yelled and added, “God, your brother would’ve never done that.”

You hated how she was twisting Leon into something ugly. You hated how she had to compare you to your brother as one final twist of the knife. You hated how she only ever filtered you for your errors.

“Stop comparing me to him, I will not and will never be him!” you hissed, pointing at her with a trembling finger, “Leon was just making sure I was okay, I swear it wasn’t anything more, you know I earned that position!”

She eyed your clothes. You tensed, bracing yourself for the next criticism because that’s all you ever did when you lived with her.

“How am I supposed to believe that? I saw you kissing him.”

Your heart dropped.

“K-kissing him?”

“Don’t lie to me, I wasn’t born yesterday y/n,” she sighed, already reaching for her handbag.

“I just- he looked after me and I- it was a reflex,” you explained, the words sounding weak and pathetic even to your own ears.

“A reflex? Oh, so a reflex makes you behave like a teenager and totally disregard your parents’ feelings.”

You were bringing shame to your family’s name. Just behave like an adult for once.

“Mom, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for humiliating you and dad,” you apologised, folding yourself up and letting her step all over you.

“Next time, no disappearing acts. Your brother was leading teams on broken ribs and could still contact us, you have no excuse for a fever,” she said coldly, sliding the bag strap over her shoulder.

“Yes, Mom,” you mumbled, your eyes beginning to sting.

“Good. Now rest.” She said, pausing halfway through your door. “You’ve clearly had enough excitement for the weekend,” she muttered and shut the door behind her, leaving you with tears in your eyes in the darkness of your house.

You couldn’t have one nice thing without your parents ruining it all for you. As if everything you ever wanted was a stack of plates, and with each plate they smashed on the floor, was another dream of yours shattered into smithereens.

The insecurity she had planted within you soon began to seep into your mind, because maybe it was best to resign from your position. You couldn’t handle it. You were messing around with your boss. Kissing him, what were you thinking?

Your professionalism was inadequate. It was the right thing to transfer from your position.

You buried those thoughts.

You were indifferent to Monday mornings but specifically today you had a shared bitterness with the orange cat that hated Mondays.

It was pointless trying to hide the bags under your eyes and how pale you were, maybe you could gain sympathy from Head Office so they wouldn’t fire you in your meeting today.

Leon being there too was just the cherry on top of the cake. After you kissed him. Unprompted.

You slumped into your car and groaned and cursed before taking a deep breath in, straightening your back, and driving off.

The office was still the same. Still the same women dressed in long skirts and men in ties, the same hum of the vending machine and the clicking of keyboards. No one batted an eyelid at you, just the way you liked it.

“Hey—you must be the lady who keeps this place running,” a light, younger voice called out, footsteps padding behind you.

“Huh—?” you turned around to be met by a man who was about your height, maybe a little taller, dressed in a blue long-sleeved shirt and a deep red tie. His chestnut hair was neatly combed back and in the seeping morning light it had flecks of a deeper auburn.

“Oh sorry, y/n, right?” he apologised, offering you a crooked smile and extending his hand.

“Yeah… yeah that’s me,” you mumbled, observing the confident character in front of you as you shook his slightly clammy hand.

“My name is Julian. I just transferred here,” he began, seeing your posture continue to crumble, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I hope it’s only good,” you let out a nervous laugh, your shoulders bouncing up and down too dramatically.

“From what I’ve heard you’re essentially the backbone of this place,” he explained, his hand weaving through his hair. “I was told if I got lost or confused, I should come to you.”

“I mean… I can try.”

A deep voice cut through the room, calling your name. Your head snapped in the direction of the familiar sound; you didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

“Coming!” you yelled back, giving Julian a small smile, hoping he would notice the dynamic between you and your boss, and disappear.

“Your boss?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow, slightly amused.

“Yeah. I have a meeting. It was nice meeting you Julian—“ you brought up your hand to wave, but he stepped forward.

“Well, how about coffee, me and you sometime?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Oh- I’ll, um, have to see I’m quite busy at the moment, kind of, you know. I’ll let you know,” you stammered, how could a rookie be more fluent than you?

“Busy, huh?”

“I—I need to go, my boss, you see—”  you gestured to behind you, a heat crawling on your cheeks.

“I guess I’ll see you around then,” he winked, shoved his hands in his pockets and whistled away from you.

You let out a sigh of relief, heels clicking rapidly as you made your way over to Leon. He was stood outside the meeting room, back in one of his suits. It was hard to imagine him in his professional persona, considering you broke those walls only a couple of days ago. Considering you kissed him.

His eyes lingered on you for seconds too long, squinting at you, and then back at Julian who had strolled back to his desk.

“Who was that?”

“Just the newbie,” you mumbled, avoiding any topic of the kiss, “His name is Julian, I think.”

Both of you were now looking at Julian’s surprising nonchalance.

“Just the newbie,” he repeated, making you roll your eyes. He noticed your incredibly controlled breathing, softening his expression, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just- just a little nervous about this meeting,” you attempted to ignore the swirling anxiety in your stomach, your fingers picking at your hands.

“Hey, it’ll be okay. Remember what I said on Saturday, I’m not letting them fire you. They’d be a bunch of damn fools to even consider it,” his hand squeezed your shoulder.

“Then why are they calling me in for a meeting?!” you whispered, meeting his concerned stare.

“Because you collapsed in their elevator,” he said, “You won’t be alone, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied, your breath still shaky, but you nodded anyway.

“Good,” his hand gently held your lower back and guided you into the meeting room.

The two of you filed in after the other, ignoring the kiss that happened on Sunday, ignoring the resignation form, because he would rather never address any of it than lose you forever.

The glass table was long; three officials sat together on the end, opposite to two empty chairs. In front of them was one folder. You imagined your DSO ID photo sitting in front of them all tiny and scared.

“Morning Miss l/n. Mr Kennedy. Thank you for joining us this morning. Now, we are here to discuss the elevator incident that occurred on Friday evening,” one of them started, sliding out a piece of paper, all three of them now staring at it.

You gulped.

“You’ve been with us for almost a year now, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Your performance has been regarded as exceptional,” the other official said, their voice nasally, “However, there’s been a significant decline as of recent weeks.”

“I—” you stuttered, but took a deep breath in and then continued, “I understand that.”

You suddenly felt the hardness of Leon’s leather shoe against your ballet pump.

“We aren’t here to undermine your past work but the incident on Friday has raised concerns.”

“Concerns?” Leon questioned, leaning forward, “It should be a medical concern. Not a disciplinary concern.”

“Mr Kennedy, we appreciate your… perspective, but when your assistant, our employee, collapses in a government building it becomes a matter of reliability. We need all our employees stable.”

“I didn’t mean… for it to happen. I’ve just been under a lot of pressure recently,” you spoke up, trying your hardest to not let the shy girl you were, or still are, to come out of your mouth. You were certainly not going to lose this battle, not after the one with your mother.

“Yes, pressure that both we and Mr Kennedy were not aware of.”

Papers shuffled.

“That’s because she handles her work,” he said, his tone controlled but firm. “She doesn’t make a habit of complaining.”

“Honesty is key when it comes to maintaining a secure workplace, Mr Kennedy and if your assistant fails to do that, then your office will fall apart.”

“It’s not falling apart. Neither is she,” he said coolly, nothing slipping in his calm exterior.

“Well, then, Miss l/n. Do you think you are fit to continue working for Mr Kennedy?”

“Yes—yes I do.”

“To ensure our personnel is fit for duty we suggest that you undergo a medical and psychological evaluation.” Papers shuffled again. “And we are going to implement two weeks mandatory leave. We cannot rely on reassurances. We must rely on certainty, and we all believe this will be best for us and you.”

Something ugly boiled within you. You had devoted your entire life to this line of work, to this job and now they label you as unstable and needing a psychological evaluation. All because of some stupid collapse in the elevator.

You couldn’t trust yourself to be alone over the weekend. Let alone two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six hours.

“Two weeks? But I’m better, I can—,”

“This isn’t up for discussion, this is mandatory.”

“But—"

“You collapsed,” Leon stated, his words swiftly saving you from getting into an argument.

And that was that.

“I’ll see you in two weeks then, I suppose,” you said, outside of the meeting room. Your hand clutched tighter around your bag strap, glancing at his shoes.

Two weeks sounded easier when you said it. You saw the days stretching out ahead of you, unstructured by no routine and no purpose. It was petrifying.

 “Yeah… I’ll,” he cleared his throat like the words sat wrongly, “see you in two weeks.”

You nodded and turned your body, but something in his expression looked like he was going to say more, with the way his mouth stuttered open. There was something within him that was reluctant, but clearly determined the environment wasn’t correct for the topic and so he relaxed and decided on something else.

“Take care of yourself,” he said. An exhale followed.

“You too,” you smiled faintly at him and walked down the hallway.

He could see it all falling apart, everything the two of you had built in the spring, the shared evenings, the shared lunches, the shared lifts home. All of it had to unravel due to the hardships of life. Peace didn’t last long in his experience, he had become used to it by now, but there was something in his chest that twisted when he saw you walk away.

It’s only for two weeks. Get yourself together Kennedy.

His gaze lingered on you until you were out of sight, until Sherry had to grab his attention to break him out of his thoughts.

The office was grey. Autumn had begun to turn leaves into a flurry of oranges and browns and yellows, covering the pavements in a wet blanket. The flowers on your desk had wilted; the coat hanger now held Leon’s scarf.

The absence of your rapid typing and tapping of your foot was far too loud for Kennedy. His office felt so wrong only containing him. He enjoyed the way people entered his office to find you, their expressions warm and amiable, but when they walked over to him, they became hardened and cold. Now everyone entered with a seriousness on their face, and it bored him.

He wanted to see the smile on your face when he would tell you he bought cake from your favourite bakery, he wanted to see the relief in your posture when he would speak up for you in presentations, he wanted to see you.

He even noticed your sweet scent disappearing from his office. It soon was overpowered by the smell of leather and gun oil. You were falling through his fingers like sand, and there was nothing he could do but wait.

You weren’t having any better of a time either.

The laptop kept opening and closing. You organised your entire bookshelf, deep-cleaned the bathroom, scrubbed your entire floor and cleared out your cupboards. You wiped the picture frame of you, younger, in a pastel-pink frilly dress, held by your brother in his military uniform. You folded up Leon’s hoodie and placed it on your kitchen table.

It was still day one.

Rain gently pattered against your windows, streaking down and joining together before dripping off.

What did people usually do on their days off? The idea of sitting around and doing nothing scared you more than anything, because the mountain of your thoughts seemed too large to conquer, to come to peace with.

You certainly didn’t tell your parents about your mandatory leave.

Something in you missed the peace of walking out the DSO building with Leon, knowing the two of you would be together again the next day.

On one of your days off, people around your village were hanging up colourful bunting, setting up ladders. Women walked past you carrying shelves and boxes of books. An older man, greys now overwhelming his hair, was fiddling around with tying up the bunting on a ladder.

“What are you guys doing?” you asked curiously, your heart rushing already.

“Preparing for the book fair this weekend,” he replied, walking down the ladder to be on your level. His eyes crinkled as he smiled, gesturing to the large abundance of people manoeuvring books, signs and stalls, “Very busy time for our village! Families love our events.”

“Can I help?”

“’Course you can, Miss. C’mere and wrap this around for me, I’m sure your fingers will be much better than these sausages!” he laughed, wiggling his fingers before handing you the ribbon to the bunting and holding the ladder securely in place for you to climb up it.

Both of Leon’s hands were on his steering wheel, two fingers drumming along to the rock music he had blasting through his speakers. Buildings sporadically disappeared, and soon he was into the green fields that surrounded the city, coincidentally, the route to your village.

It wouldn’t hurt to check on you, it could just be a totally friendly thing, he thought as he indicated into your village.

As he drove further down the road, more and more families and kids appeared, the increase in decorations intensified. A sign read ‘Book Fair’ painted neatly in big blue letters.

He scoffed quietly to himself, thumb tapping once against the wheel.

His speed dropped as the road narrowed, tyres crunching lightly over gravel. Stalls lined the sides now, half-finished and bustling with life. Children darted between adults, laughter carrying easily through the open air.

You were right. Things seemed…  quieter out here. Small cottages and houses circled around the square. Patches of tender flowers reflected the sun, somehow holding a vividness in autumn. It was the type of village that belonged in a fairy tale.

Leon’s gaze ran over the crowd absentmindedly until his eyes landed on you.

Your demeanour was significantly different; he had to do a double take. Your hair wasn’t held in the same professional way you always styled it, it had caught the sun, softer than he has ever seen it before . It wasn’t the you he saw in the office, and it wasn’t the you he saw in his home.

A real smile was painted on your face, not the kind that was tight and forced when greeting co-workers or the nervous one when you were overwhelmed. It was perfectly you.

His fingers loosened around the steering wheel.

You were sat on a chair, holding open a book with colorful illustrations, a group of children sitting cross-legged in front of you on a rug. They weren’t fiddling or chasing each other around, they were totally entranced by your reading. As you turned the page and kept reading, some kids burst out giggling at your attempt at a dragon’s voice, and one small girl’s hands clung around your leg, your hand softly patting her head.

“Who’s that man over there?” one of the kids asked, your smiling expression shifted into something tight as you noticed the man dressed in black, leaning against his car.

Leon.

He looked out-of-place, alone at a family event. There was something in his face, the way he held himself, that something was weighing on him.

“Yeah, he keeps looking at us!”

“He’s looking at y/n! Do you think he has a crush on her?”

“Is that your boyfriend?”

“O-oh, uhm, no, sweetie, but maybe we could invite him over here?” you suggested, feeling a warmth touching your cheeks, and it definitely wasn’t the sun. He shifted, noticing that he had been caught, pressing his lips together. He walked over, standing awkwardly a few feet away.

“Do you want to come and read with us mister?”

“If that’s okay with you,” he replied, flickering back to you and the cluster of children at your feet.

“Of course it is,” you smiled, watching him place himself on the grass. You tried not to laugh at the sight of your boss sat at your feet with a bunch of children, but you didn’t want to embarrass him even more.

There were no strings holding you into the tight, nervous assistant that he sees on the daily, you were happy. Smiling. Radiant, almost. He wanted to convince himself it was just because you weren’t in your usual office wear, but it wasn’t. You were happier outside of work, happier without him around.

He had been thinking about you all week, and yet here you were, not a single worry holding you down. He thought that maybe what you said in your argument was true, that he was dragging you into his nightmare of a life because you had been the closest thing to warmth and closeness he had seen for so long.

You snapped the book shut.

“The end!”

“Another one! Another one!” the children chanted, clapping their hands with delight.

“I’m sorry but I think you parents will be wanting you back now!” you stood up, hearing the children groan and push themselves upwards.

You waved goodbye to them, feeling Leon’s presence at your side as the last of the children scattered to their parents. You wanted their effortless laughter to carry on within you, but something heavier settled in your chest.

“Thanks for staying,” you said, looking up at the towering man in front of you, his broad shoulders cutting out the beaming sunshine.

“Of course,” he put his hands in his pockets, “I didn’t know you did that.”

“Just something to keep me from going insane in my house,” you said, laughing nervously.

“You’ve got a way with them.”

Some kids ran past the two of you, shrieking and giggling, balloon animals in their sticky hands.

“Oh, it’s just reading to some kids, it’s nothing really.”

People behind stalls kept calling out the different food they were selling.

“They listen to you,” he assured.

That warm feeling in your cheeks happened again.

A silence occurred, but not a loud one, it was soothed by the laughter of children and parents. The cold wet smell of autumn was overrun by the sweet smell of candyfloss and popcorn.

The kiss and the resignation letter were still wavering in the air.

“About Sunday—” you started, feeling yourself drown already.

“Don’t,” he said, “This isn’t the place.”

“I mean, my house isn’t far away, we can always speak there,” you stammered, sharp pains beginning to grow in your chest as you tripped over the words.

“Don’t.”

“I just, I thought that you—"

“I know what you thought,” he said, not a recognisable emotion in his voice. Nothing you could cling on to or help you stay afloat.

“Leon— I don’t understand.”

“I think we both know that I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“And what is that?”

“Keeping this simple,” he stated.

“Simple,” you repeated, nodding your head slightly, more to yourself than him.

“Well,” you said, turning your back to him, “thanks for stopping by. I’ll see you around.”

Wallow. You wallowed. For the rest of the day. You despised letting a man have such control over your feelings, but you figured it was better to let it out than keep it inside. Face swollen and pink from crying, you felt like one huge idiot.

You collapsed in the elevator after working yourself into the ground, you’ve been assigned a mandatory psychological evaluation and now the man who you’d found yourself in love with for the past 6 months doesn’t want anything more to do with you.

Your mother’s disapproving face had been burned into your mind and now it was overlapping with Leon’s. Cold and distant.

You turned off the television and scrubbed at your face with the sleeve of your sweater, pacing around in the kitchen. You felt like one of those hamsters in tiny enclosures. Silence was too loud and the walls were too close.

The only person you could rely on was yourself, and you had been reminded of that over and over again, yet you couldn’t get it to stick in your mind. You couldn’t even say you were unacquainted to that hurtful internal wound in your chest, the one that throbbed when you were rejected by the people around you, because you were very familiar with it.

People were flawed, yes, it was hard to find someone perfect, but being hurt this way was something you never wanted to experience again.

The impulsive thought of running away seemed pleasant, you imagined yourself sitting on a beach in one of those picturesque postcards. Just to escape it all.

The ticking of the clock was mocking you.

Simple.

Right, because that’s what it was. Simple.

Nothing about the way he looked at you like you were worth something to protect, like you brightened his days—was simple.

His hoodie was still folded neatly on the table, his scent faintly embroidered on it.

You should have never kissed him. You crossed the line and now he was fixing it. Because that’s what he always did. Fix things.

A knock sounded at the door. You paused, to make sure you weren’t mishearing things.

Another knock, firmer this time. You slowly approached the door, and as you opened it, a sliver of navy was seen. The familiar chest pains twisted again.

“Hey,” Leon said, his tone quieter than usual.

“Leon?” your eyes traced around his open collar and wonky tie, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I was… nearby,” he cleared his throat, holding himself upwards by leaning on your door frame.

“…Leon.”

“Yeah. Alright. I wasn’t.”

There was the faint scent of alcohol woven on him, you were close enough to put a finger on it. His composure was slipping, and in his pale eyes there was the shine of something vulnerable.

“Are you drunk?”

“I just had a few,” he mumbled, running his fingers through his dishevelled hair.

“Why are you here?” you watched him cringe and then relax his face, like he was trying to process how he even got on your doorstep, as if his body moved before he could think.

“I—I just… I didn’t like how I left things,” he explained, his blue eyes lingering on your face. He was engulfed by the dark shade of the night, and your home was golden, like the light at the end of the dark tunnel.

“You told me to not talk about it,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I know. I was being an idiot; it was a mistake.”

“This isn’t fair Leon—I couldn’t even explain myself,” you muttered, exhausted from feeling everything.

“Because if we started talking, then it wouldn’t stay simple.”

“I didn’t ask for simple.” You stated coldly, arms crossed. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know.”

“You’ve been drinking.”

“I know,” he repeated, quieter this time, his eyes flickering to the floor and then back to your warmly lit face.

The space between you was fragile, like one wrong word could splinter it and it’ll tear apart.

“You can’t drive home,” you sighed, “just… come inside.”

You stepped aside, gesturing him to come in.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, his eyes lazily darting around your home, “Nice place…”

Everything was organised and structured to a meticulous degree. But there was a homeliness to it, the blankets on your couch were clearly handmade, on your fridge were fridge magnets from different places and there were books stacked everywhere, bookmarks poking out the edges.

“Thanks,” you replied, unsure what to do with your boss in your home, “Do you want me to get you some water and food?”

“That would probably be a good idea,” he followed you into the kitchen, observing your paintings that you hung up.

You started to open cupboards that you didn’t need to open, grabbing ingredients that never made any sense, because God, anything to stop your hands from shaking.

“I meant what I said at the fair,” he cut the silence.

“What?” you turned your head to him.

“About you… being good at it. You look different. Better,” he nodded towards you.

“Better without work?” you huffed, “Everyone thinks I can’t handle it.”

“Not everyone.”

“Leon this isn’t fair—you tell me to not talk about Sunday and now you come to my house like nothing happened like—“ you snapped, your eyebrows furrowing.

He walked towards you, driven purely by his desire.

“I don’t want to ruin what we have,” he murmured, a profound sadness in his eyes.

You looked back at him, your expression undeniably less sharp.

The space between you was barely there anymore—close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, the faint scent of alcohol and something distinctly him, the scent that made you ease in the office.

Your voice came out softer than before, your lips slightly parted.

“Leon…”

A warning, a question, an invitation.

He exhaled slowly, eyes dropping for just a second, to your soft lips, before forcing themselves back up.

You could see his control slipping, his careful exterior being stripped. He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head.

“Tell me to leave.”

Note: Okay, it's finally here. This is the LONGEST chapter yet omg and I finally found out how to use em dashes. This chapter was going to be much longer but I decided to cut it up and make another chapter. Sorry for the wait and false promises, I am definitely not promising anything ever again LOL. I really struggled to know what to do next but I hope this is satisfactory. I hope everyone is okay, the UK is currently being blessed by the sun and it's sooo nice. Couldn't think of a song for this chapter but I did write it while listening to I Love You by Fontaines D.C. so maybe there's that. Wrote this instead of studying...

There will be 3 more chapters I believe, the part 7 will be preparing for Sherry's wedding, part 8 will be Sherry's wedding and part 9 will be... ykw. Chapters will come out slower because I don't wanna burn myself out and I gotta study booooo...

If you guys have any questions or anything let me knoww1!!!! I love talking to you guys.

The fucking insane taglist omg:

@babygirl-panda19 @musegonemad @cherry-4200 @mmeerraa @cautioniwillbite @whoskeiraaa @aliidarling @frazzled-soul @onebatch--twobatch @jeewhat @connoresque @girlwithadragonheart @qngelical @djoslola @wastedpanda @mara-brekker @rednnedy @applerpi @404creep @mommafirefly666 @brooke1228 @justvalkyrie @animegamerfox @theuncommoncorner @callme-amaya @itsjustbell @brightestflame @sharkalina666 @iheartdaenerys @keopio @zea-is-queen @youkoden @youmake1mistake @caroline-the-cat @deo-data @toorulee @linsweetgirl @stinkystick @parasuchus @doribtw @chocoismasochist @toastloverr

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