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❝ How people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours. ❞
...
Your body tangled with the white satin bedsheets, you groan at the noise coming from your alarm clock. You get up to use the bathroom, wash your face, and brush your teeth.
Grabbing a black skirt from your closet, you pulled out a white, long sleeve shirt and some black flats.
...
Stepping into the BAU, you place your bag down at your desk, heading straight to the coffee maker.
Stirring up your coffee with a small wooden spoon, you hear footsteps next to you. Bringing your face up, you meet a soft complexion of pale skin and a sweet smile. Penelope.
You take a small sip, "Hey! Any new cases today?"
She nods, "Yeah, but apparently Hotch is having a talk with everyone in his office about the last case."
Almost on cue, "Y/l/n, my office." Your head shoots up, and you side glance Penelope as you place your hot drink down, and walk towards Hotchs' office.
To be honest, you didn't have a good relationship with your boss. You've been here for 4 years and not once did he mention to you how great you've been doing. You did what you were told, and never did he compliment your work. He always thought you messed everything up, and didn't try your best. It was hard to love your job when you disliked your boss. Yes, you did break a few rules every now and then on a case which lead to a few days of suspension, and that's when he would always be fuming. Yelling at you, like you weren't his agent, but a stupid, reckless teenage boy.
Closing the door as you stepped in, you saw him shove some papers into a messy pile and place it to the side. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes, take a seat." He gestures to the chair.
Sitting down, you cross your legs in a lady-like way, like your mother who was always obsessed with manners would do.
You glance out towards the window, waiting for him to say something. Say something.
Picking up his pen again and tapping it lightly against his paper he shifts his gaze on you and back down to his files.
"Are you gonna say something?" You asked, some annoyance in your voice was detectable.
He looks up at you, this time it's different. "Hotch, can I go?" You say, standing up annoyed.
"We didn't talk yet."
"Talk about what?" You sit back down, readjusting your skirt.
"The last case. Back in Colorado, some officers informed me of the way you acted, and smelled. One officer told me he smelt weed on you, another told me he heard sexual noises coming from your hotel room. Next day he said you acted almost as if you were 'high'. Care to explain?"
