°•

She was sick.

Sick mentally and physically and emotionally and any other -ally she could think of that pertained to her drained mood.

Exhaustion took over Crissle for the next two days she wasn't at Malik -- by Zayn Malik, of course -- she was barely awake those forty eight hours and when she did wake up, it was to either eat or use the bathroom.

Crissle didn't even know if she still had a job there, but, she didn't care. At all. She had been too mad at the fact her boss assaulted her twice. Apparently, he didn't mean it, but who knows? Andrea said he had issues...

If she was fired -- technically, she had quit -- then she had enough money to last her a few months until she found another.

Crissle blinked her eyes all the way open after ten minutes of deep, late evening thoughts.

Wait.

If she quit now, she wouldn't keep the promise made to herself by staying there longer than Zayn's other assistants. She wasn't going to let him get to her and she needed to get her job back, but how?

She'd figure it out on Monday.

Crissle finally managed to take a shower, watching her hair curl up in kinks as the water made contact with it. Her body melted under the warm water and she sighed, seriously needing this.

She finished showering and now stood in front of the mirror, looking at the bruises on her shoulders again. Even a new mark took its place as a faint ring around her neck. She clenched her fists in anger. She wasn't going to let Zayn get to her, no matter how attractive he was.

What?

Crissle shook her head and left the bathroom, getting dressed in a plain white t-shirt and spandex shorts. Her phone rang as she was putting on thigh socks -- judge her -- and she scrambled to answer it.

"Cris, please tell me you're okay," Andrea breathed on the other line, her voice was rushed and quiet, as if she was going to get caught.

"I'm okay, Andrea," Crissle sighed, putting her on speaker to apply leave in conditioner and moisturizer to tame her curls, "I'm okay."

"You said that."

"I know," she groaned, moisturizing her hair by section and running her hands through, "it's just...I seriously hope I'm not fired."

"I don't think so," she replied uneasily, "Mr. Malik hasn't left his office in two days, Crissle. I think he's upset."

"Please," she scoffed single twisting her hair in big pieces, "if he's so upset, why hasn't he done anything to apologize?"

"Well--"

"I looked at myself today," Crissle continued, "and...I didn't stand up for myself like I should've."

It was quiet for a moment on the other line before Andrea laughed. She actually laughed at her.

"Oh, sweet Crissle," she chuckled, "everyone heard you spit your feelings out. We tried not to laugh. You gave him a run for his money."

"Doubt it," she grumbled, finally wiping her hands and putting on a bonnet. She went into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of Doritos, sitting down on the couch and cutting the TV on. "He's pretty rich. Drea, Love & Hip Hop is on."

"Who cares -- wait, is Cardi B on there?"

"Not yet."

"Anyway," she sighed, "this is weird, honestly. He's not mean, nor nice, duh, but he's super quiet, he barely speaks, and he looks so tired."

"So?"

"His hair isn't even done."

Zayn always did his hair.

"Huh?" Crissle asked again.

"You heard me," Andrea got a little louder, "ohp, gotta go. The bear has stepped out of his cave, I repeat--"

"Bye," she laughed, hanging up.

°•

With her head held high, Crissle walked into Malik -- by Zayn Malik, of course -- and straight to the elevator. By the stares she was receiving, it was clear word of her outburst had circled around. She wasn't ashamed or embarrassed, it showed she didn't take shit from anyone, especially Zayn Malik.

No matter how attractive he was.

People scurried out of the elevator when they saw her, even a man held it for her and she thanked him. Crissle pressed the button for the top floor and waited for the doors to close.

In the wall mirrors of the elevator, she examined her outfit. Hugging her body was a maroon dress, long sleeved and stopping at the tops of her knees. It was a turtleneck type of dress and she wore a black cardigan over it. On her feet were black heels with a thin strap around the ankle. Her hair was still curly from yesterday and she wore minimal but dark make up.

A usual everyday 'fit for her.

Adjusting the bag on her shoulder, Crissle exited the elevators and walked onto her floor.

Andrea saw her first, winking at her before returning to her work. She smiled and ignored the stares of her fellow coworkers.

The door to his office opened as she sat in her chair. A small gasp left his lips as she unpacked her things.

"Ms. Sinclair?" his voice was off, but Crissle wasn't fazed.

She looked up and let a small smile form on her lips. "Yes, sir?"

"U-Um," he stuttered but quickly composed himself, straightening out his tie, "you didn't have to come in today."

"Oh, no worries," she kept smiling and logged onto her laptop, "I'm totally fine. Nothing can stop me," she swiveled in his direction and glared right into his cold brown eyes, "not even you."

And for once, he looked vulnerable.

°•

you guYs

thank you fa everything

bye xx