You must have a level of discontent to feel the urge to want to grow.

Idowu Koyenikan

The door opens without the required knock and I sigh knowing exactly who it is , closing the file that I was using to profile our next target.

"Boss-"

"Fuck off."

"Oh. I'm telling Maya you said that." Rafael wipes his fake tears, walking into the office like he owns the place before sitting on my couch.

"I fucking dare you." He rolls his eyes before snickering like an idiot. She better not find out. Not that I'm scared of a 5'5 girl.

"It's because she's hanging out with her friends, isn't it ? You couldn't keep little Maya to yourself , huh Ricky ?" He laughs harder when I throw a stapler at him.

Idiot.

Idiot who's right.

She's at the café with her new friends , grabbing a drink before they head to the mall. The selfish part of me wants to keep her soft body and even softer heart to myself but I know how much she's been waiting for this.

I'm happy for her.

I'm just not happy that she's not in my arms right now. Especially since I have therapy in an hour.

"When's she getting back ?" I narrow my eyes at his question but answer anyways.

"In seven hours." Seven hours of absolute fucking torture and risk of me completely losing it.

"You are so damn whipped, Ricky." He throws Mayella's penguin in the air before kicking it towards me. I throw another stapler at him, hitting him on the head this time, before setting Mr.Jones safely on my table and rearranging his yellow feet, making sure they don't touch my gun.

"Can't believe you're petting a stuffed penguin. Anyways," Rafael sits up on the couch, filing his nails. I pay him too much. "You thinking of hiring the smartie ? She cracked our latest case , you know. And she'd probably work for free too."

She definitely would.

"You of all people would know that I'd never fucking do something that stupid." I scoff, refusing to even think of saying yes to that notion.

"Well, why not ? She'll be an asset, isn't that more important ?" He frowns, actually thinking that he can change my mind.

"She doesn't belong in a place like this and I'd shoot myself before I let anything happen to her. She's soft and too nice, something you can't be in this place." She can be soft in my arms though. Her cheesy shit has worn off on me.

"But you're nice too." I send him a glare, not wanting to talk about her when I already miss her. "Fair enough, I guess. Can you hire her anyways ? She gets me candy and I want her here all the time."

"I'm not putting her at risk so she can buy you fucking skittles, Rafael. I don't know how she does either." I mumble the last part to myself. She barely has enough to feed herself and she hates taking money. That's why I usually get the Wendy's before I meet her.

"Waaaait a minute, you're telling me, she doesn't know you're a millionaire ?" Rafael laughs even harder, clutching his stomach while stomping his feet on the ground.

Fool.

"She wouldn't care." Mayella treats everyone the same, regardless of their status. It's what I fucking adore about her, the way she disregards materialistic things like money and looks , still managing to make everyone happy.

She's amazing like that.

Well fucking done, I only miss her more now.

"Leave, Rafael." I give him a look that he recognizes. He nods before leaving. Everyone here knows how angry I get when I'm not happy. Which is why I just let them know beforehand , so I don't hurt their feelings. I made an intern cry the other day, that shit feels bad.

My phone buzzes with three miscalls from the one person I can't fucking stand right now. Landon. It's always when he needs money. For alcohol, drugs or girls. I can't imagine what the fuck made him turn out this way. It's been going on for too long. He wasn't like this when I first arrived. The Miller family fostered me ever since I was seventeen. I had run away from my last home at fifteen , spending the next two years at friends and shelters all while hiding from CPS.

I was a stupid kid. That came to realization when they caught me at a bar in my hood and dragged me to a white ass family I instantly disliked. It was either that or juvenile detention.

Eventually, I considered them family. Emily , my foster mom was the mother I never had, since the other one died in prison, and became the only reason I stayed with them. She was a stereotypical soccer mom with her chicken lasagna and grey mini-van but she was the only one who helped me sleep when I missed my parents. She helped me disconnect myself from the hood , especially when I ended up with assault charges. Four times. Emily then made me get therapy for the anger.

Landon and I started off good. Being the younger one, he would want to hang out with my friends all the time. I didn't mind at first, before he became a total bitch. He got beat up several times as a result of his big mouth , letting me take up the blame by his father, Carl.

After he graduated, Emily had got cancer. She passed away soon after and that was the breaking point for Landon. I went to therapy more often even though I fucking hated it, not being able to tolerate Landon or Carl's shit , and just missing Emily too much.

That's when I was recruited as an intern in the FBI by a man who I met at a shooting range I went to every three days- to get all the fucking rage out before I do it on someone else. The training program took about a year or so and I soon made my way up to leader.

I wouldn't have been here if it wasn't for Emily. I wouldn't be in front of this yellow office door either ,which says "Mr.Klause" above an over exaggerated smile on his picture.

The guy's funny looking with his balding head and beer belly. He wears black square glasses along with a tie that has motivational quotes on it. Why the fuck am I here. Right, her.

Making my way towards the office, his assistant directs me to his door after a few minutes. I sigh, wishing I was anywhere but here right now.

The door opens and he lets out a throaty laugh, one hand resting on his stomach, like he has a baby in there.

He catches me staring at his action and nods , smiling to himself. "It's my subway baby. He's a foot long." Who the fuck let him be a therapist for anger management.

"Well, Mr.Mikel, come on in before you lose it !" I walk in, setting myself on a the pink couch with even more motivational quotes on it.

What is it with this guy.

He straightens out his tie, clicking his pen and tapping it on his notepad, already ticking me off.

"You know, Mr.Mikel, when I signed up for this, they never told me that my job entailed being held at gunpoint by a client," He smiles knowingly. I see where he gets the name Klause from. Like santa clause. Mayella would laugh at that.

"Just because I asked him why he's angry all the time." My jaw clenches as I glare at the gleeful guy. I'm not proud of what I did. I was having a bad day. With seeing her panic attack and her wound, my own memories resurfaced. I've never been this caring about anyone, let alone someone like her. But I can't help it, and that makes me angry. Not being able to help her makes me angry.

Every fucking thing makes me angry.

And the man in front of me , who's jotting down some notes while inspecting my outfit, isn't helping.

"The fuck you looking at ?" God, if I had my gun right now. I almost regret leaving it on the stuffed penguin, using it as a gun holder. I don't think she'll mind. Not my problem he makes a good keeper.

"I'm doing my job, Dalaric. You are paying me, remember ?" Yeah, I can't exactly fucking forget when you keep reminding me about it. Don't punch him, it's not worth it , Ricky. Mayella doesn't like blood on your knuckles.

"It's Mr.Mikel to you." I clench my teeth, not used to someone else using the name the woman I never met gave to me.

"It's Mr.Mikel to you." He mocks me, deepening his voice to sound like me while shaking his head weirdly.

"How the hell are you a therapist ?" I need to stop paying people who don't do shit right, including Rafael. My eyes wander to the clock. Six hours till I see her. Two hours till I get out of here. Four more hours to wait painfully.

Fuck this, fuck that.

Mr.Klause, or santa, laughs , his face turning beet red. "Well, Mr.Mikel, my therapist got bored of his job so he gave me his office. And his tie and diploma. I mean, how hard it is to talk to people ? Especially one as jolly as you, Mr. I love happiness." He continues laughing before taking a sip of his coffee in an extra large mug with neon pink letters.

"However, we aren't here to talk about why I'm here , are we ? Let's talk about why you came back. You didn't seem to pleased by the outcome of our last meeting, judging from the gun you pointed at my head."

"It was a fucking mistake, alright ? I was having a bad day and I- fuck. It doesn't matter , I'm here now , am I not ? Something happened and I wanna stop being angry. Now stop fucking around and treat me or whatever."

"Something or someone ?"

I don't answer, choosing not to share my private life with someone who goes into chimneys at night to give kids presents.

"A-are you blushing ?" My eyes narrow at his comment , taking out my pocket knife to look at my face.

Fucking liar. You can't blush with all this melanin.

"Aha ! Made you look. Mission accomplished. Now, Mr.Mikel, I'd like for you to tell me more about this someone."

I glare at his childish antics, disappointed by his skills as a therapist. "We're here for me, not for anyone else. Why does it matter ?"

He leans back in his purple chair. This whole office looks as if a rainbow took a dump.

"You see, the people you like, or love, tells me a lot about you as a person. Especially when this someone makes you want to come back to a place you seemingly find no comfort in. Since you clearly will not tell me about yourself, I need to know about this someone. We need to find, a sort of.." He taps his chin , rubbing his stomach. "..weakpoint. Something that softens that anger of yours. And if that something is a person, then please, fire away."

Maybe he is a therapist. I make a mental note to ask Rafael to profile this man.

I clench my fists, trying to decide whether I really want to do this. I've never opened up to people before, let alone a man who owns seven reindeers. I don't think I can do this, even if I wanted to. Fuck this, I'm not-

My phone buzzes with a notification bell I only set for my team. They better not have fucking messed-Oh.

Damn. It's a picture of her. She's in a changing room at the mall , I'm assuming. She's wearing a shirt that shows me silky, smooth skin with a few red bumps here and there. Pure perfection. It's a white shirt that's slightly cropped, showing off her arms and only the top of her chest, her dark hair falling in silky waves. I've never taken a liking to clothes that show too much skin. It's something I'd say we both have in common. I only have eyes for her so it doesn't really matter. It just never appealed to me, just like how modesty doesn't appeal to some folks.

And Mayella dresses almost too modestly but I know she loves her body with the way she calls her thighs cute, unaware of how much she turns me on. It's something I find so fucking attractive. She only feels comfortable with showing me things that she would normally hide and that makes me eternally happy. She makes me happy.

Fuck. Much to my dismay, she's covering her face with both of her hands, a large shy smile hidden with one honey eye peeking out in the middle.

There's a message below.

Your girl. You're welcome ;)

Damn right she's my girl.

I can do this. I'll do it. For both of us.

"Fine, I'll fucking do it." I tell him, before a huge annoying smile is plastered on his face.

"Aha ! And he , Mr.Mikel, has succumbed to my voodoo! Let's begin, shall we ?"

I can do this.

Fuck.

␈␈␈␈␈

"That was great, Mr.Mikel ! Apart from the excessive swearing and aggressive looks, I think we made great progress. Now, I'll see you next week , same time. Don't forget to do your homework." He opens the office door, smiling appreciatively at me.

"Shut the fuck-" I try and reprimand him for giving me homework.

"Run along now ! You don't want to be late to meet your special someone, do you ?" My brows furrow as I keep the office door open with my boot.

"How the fuck-"

"Oh please, Mr.I can't tell you what my job is or I'd have to kill you. For someone who's so secretive, you sure do check the time a lot. And show symptoms of anticipatory anxiety."

He uses an umbrella to shove my foot out of the doorway, sending me a sickly sweet smile.

"Please, go meet her or him before you hold someone else at gunpoint. Toodles ! Don't forget your homework." After waving his hand dismissively , he shuts his office door , making me miss my chance to say thank you as Mayella always tells me to do. Next time, then.

There's a feeling of relief I get as I make my way out of the parking. Even though I hate to admit it, that shit helped. I almost feel lighter, something I only thought I could feel with her. I don't want to rely on her for my own emotional well-being, it's stupid and unhealthy and will also put her under too much stress. Mayella wouldn't mind it because she has a heart of gold but I won't let her make me happy at the expense of her own happiness.

My jack shit of a heart races as I stop in front of the café and watch as she hugs her new friends goodbye. I also fucking smile when I watch her do the same, an ecstatic reaction to getting to hug someone other than me. God, I've never been this happy for someone before.

Seven hours of pure anxiety, just thinking about whether anything went wrong or if someone dared to make her cry, is so worth it only for that smile that she's sending her friends right now, as they wave back and walk away.

Fatima sends me a smirk and moves her eyebrows suggestively looking between Mayella and I before leaving along with the other girl, who fearfully looks away. Expected.

She giddily runs towards me , her open hair in the same waves I want to run my fingers through. Her warm arms come around my neck as she wraps her legs around my waist. Fucking hell. I've got it bad.

"Hey, angel. I missed you." My heart beats just a little faster at the name. I'm far from an angel for most of the people that dare to know me or even care enough to do so. It's only when she says it , do I see an ounce of probable truth.

I rub her back from under her full-sleeve black tee that she's tucked into some jeans. For some reason, I expected her to change herself to fit in with her new friends. Maybe even the way she dresses. But Mayella isn't like that. She looks beautiful in her T-shirts and jeans. I just wish they were my t-shirts instead.

"How was it ?" She lets out a breath, warmth fanning the side of my jaw as she yawns tiredly.

My baby's tired.

"It was great. I love them. I think they like me. I'm just-" She yawns again,"-so exhausted. I didn't know hanging out takes this much energy. The mall was nice , though. We had so much fun." The picture was nice too, I want to say. But she'll probably get embarrassingly shy and hide her face. Anything's fucking better than that.

After setting her in her seat and making sure she's buckled up, I get in the car and drive as quickly as I can, making sure she has a comfortable sleep on a proper bed, which means I'll get a good sleep too, with her in my arms. She leans her head on the window, spending the entire ride asleep as I stroke her hand , which is clasped around three of my fingers. The same ones that always smell like strawberries.

She's just- fuck. I won't even try to explain it , I don't think I can. I also don't want to admit that I ordered three boxes of strawberry hand cream.

Carefully picking up her small body and tucking her head into my neck, I walk through the driveway while putting my hoodie over her to protect her from the cold wind. She yawns again as I sit on the couch , before she puts her head on my lap and places my hand in her hair.

It feels amazing under my rough fingers. I'd do this every-fucking-day if she would let me.

"Fine ?" I ask, noticing that she looks more awake right now.

"Fine." She pokes my stomach , making sure to push her finger through each of my packs. She wants me to get an eighth one, saying that she isn't happy with the odd number seven. Anything for her.

"How was therapy ?" Of course she remembered. She would be half asleep and still ask me if I ate lunch. This type of care has always been foreign to me , which is why my throat constricts , finding it hard to reply.

"Fine." Mayella's smile softens my composure, my throat clearing in relief. Her eyes glint with something I've only ever seen in Emily's eyes. Pride.

"Y'know I'm proud of you, right, angel ? Look at you go." She snuggles into me , her hands coming around my neck as she sits sideways on my lap.

"Thank you." is all I can say. It's not all I want to say. I just don't know how to say anything more than that. Her wide grin shows me how happy she is with my answer and that's all I need to feel content.

"Rafael sent me a picture of Mr.Jones holding a gun. Did you have anything to do with that ? I clearly remember telling you that he's afraid of weapons , Dalaric. Oh ! And-Helen told me that in order to get someone to be your boyfriend, I have to ask them out on a date. Sooo...wanna-go-out-on-" I take her head out of the crook of my neck so I can kiss the fuck out of her to shut her up. Stupid girl. My ego physically hurts too much to let her continue.

Her lips are all swollen , as they should be, after I let go of her , wiping the side of her mouth. Mayella's honey eyes are in a daze while her cheeks glow from a red tint. Beautiful.

"I'll pick you up at six."

She furrows her brows adorably, biting her thumb as she thinks unnecessarily.

"But I'm sleeping over, aren't I ? How would you-and hey ! I asked you first."