Owner Training

Lonely Kitten

If there was anything that made you hate having to get up at the crack of dawn to go to work besides the fact that you were actually going to work , it was the sight that greeted you when you went to say your goodbyes for the day.

Yoongi was curled up on the right side of the bed, the blankets pulled up so much you could barely see his face. He looked so comfortable and cozy, and you wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed and let his soft purrs lull you back to sleep.

Yoongi suddenly does that weird snore/snort combo he does when he's jolted from sleep, and he turns to the other side, now facing the doorway. His eyes are still closed but your heart flutters a little when he tugs some blankets back like he'd worried he'd pulled them off of you.

You grin and walk up to him, bending over to press a small kiss to his forehead. He cracks one eye open and looks up at you sleepily.

"Work?" he mumbles, his voice adorably slurred.

"Yeah, sweetheart. I'll see you later, kay?"

He hums and smacks his lips. "Don't stay too late. You've been working too much."

He had a point. You've already worked nine days straight this week and you were going crazy.

"I won't. Today should be an easy day."

How he manages to project so much skepticism with just one eye is a mystery.

"Promise?"

"Sure, baby. I promise. Love you."

"Love," is all he manages to mumble before he falls back asleep.

****

The thing about your job is that...you hate it. You'd gone into this job expecting to be able to make a difference. That you'd find abandoned kids great homes, bring families together, or...you didn't even know. It was a lot of rainbows and unicorns. The reality of it was that you saw a lot of kids being given back to abusive homes because their dad passed an anger management class, only to be back in the system six months later. Parents would take each other to court over visitation rights, and only relent when they received even more money from the other. And those were just some of the more mild issues. Basically, this job had opened your eyes to the fact that people were monsters.

And on top of the actual work, was the fact that your seniors and boss made your life a hell. Instead of treating you with the respect due to you as a fellow lawyer with the same shiny degrees as them, they instead handed their work off on you or made you do menial tasks like you were just another paralegal ( NOT to shit on paralegals either - their job was hella hard too).

You didn't even have your own office! You were just another desk in the sea of paralegals and secretaries. When you'd brought it up at your last review, you'd been told it was because you were the new hire and you had to work your way up. Well, you'd been working here for several years now, and the hotshot young guy straight out of Yale that they'd hired a year ago already had a private office and his own secretary.

Literally, the only thing keeping you going these days was the fact that you needed the money and you didn't know what else to do. At least you had Yoongi waiting for you at home to look forward to.

"L/N, I'm going to need your help with these pleadings. Need them done for tomorrow. Thanks," Johnson, one of the lawyers you hated the most, threw a pack of client interview notes on your desk and struts off without even giving you a chance to reply.

You sigh and look at the packet, debating setting them on fire and walking out of the building like a boss. But then he'd just complain to the big boss, who would call you in and give you a talking to. It all seemed like too much of a hassle. (You knew you were being bullied for being the only female lawyer here - it was ridiculous and sexist. Like, hello? Is this 1924? No.)