𝙎𝙔𝙇𝙑𝙄𝘼 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙉𝙀𝙇𝙇𝙔 never feels safe.
𝙎𝙋𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙀𝙍 𝙍𝙀𝙄𝘿 is beyond fixing.
They hate each other.
But what they didn't know
was that all along, the one
thing they both needed was
the other.
❝ the moment I laid my e...
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SYLVIA CONNELLY.
AS I STEPPED INSIDE OF THE bullpen, my glossy black heels clicked against the shiny marble floors, a sound that made people's heads turn into my direction. I never paid much attention to the staring, and kept my back straight and chin tilted up high—it was a stance that never failed me.
The employees and agents walking down the halls eyed me up and down, slowly taking in my appearance as if I couldn't see them looking my way. But I could. I could see that some of them smirked, and that some whispered to their coworkers. After being an agent for years, I never failed to miss those little things.
But I didn't care much about it. I didn't care what people thought of me. I wasn't a necessarily respected agent because I was a woman, but everyone knew about me. They knew about the woman full of mysteries behind her pretty face.
The office was packed at this time of the day, with people bustling in and out of doors. Some were in little groups, chatting away and gossiping like high-schoolers. I could hear the way they quieted for a moment as I passed them, before erupting into hushed whispers. I caught a woman's gaze and held it, noting her envious expression that made me want to roll my eyes.
There was something intoxicating about feeling other people's jealousy towards you. I knew it shouldn't be something I felt validated by but I was. Because it was days like these that made me feel a little less insecure, and a little more in control.
I felt confident enough to casually pop my neck, easing some of the tension in my shoulders as I made my way up the steps. As I did so I looked back, my eyes drifting over all of the people—in a room big like this it was difficult to tell apart the agents from the interns.
My lined eyes flitted to a particular group huddled at a corner desk—it didn't take me long to realize who they were. There was an attractive blonde woman there who was speaking to the others with her arms crossed. She was the one I spoke to over the phone.
Jennifer Jareau.
A caught the gaze of a dark-skinned man that had his eyes on me, a confident smirk plastered right on his face. I raised my eyebrows at him slightly, nodding and barely acknowledging the cocky man. Derek Morgan.
There was an older man sitting on one of the chairs, playing with his various gold rings and watches. His posture was relaxed and laid-back. David Rossi.
Another beautiful woman stood in the group, her hands clasped together in front of her. She had raven-colored hair and dark lips, which gave give me villain vibes. But on her face was a kind smile, which made me think otherwise. Emily Prentiss.
I noticed another blonde make her way up to them, wearing bright colored clothing, which I found slightly obnoxious. But from the way everyone immediately greeted her with warm hugs, I could tell she was the glue of the BAU. Penelope Garcia.
