Dose 𝓣welve

Dose Twelve Observations:
Subject is having subconscious issues. Dreams are taunting her every night.

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Five nights in a row.

She clung to my dreams five fucking nights in a row.

I hadn’t laid eyes on her since our conversation in her office.

Since I told her I never wanted to see her again.

She made sure to make that happen.

There were no accidental run-ins or meetings that we shared.

Everything was handled through Kara.

As it should’ve been all along.

I saw Celia pass by again, once that week, leaving me to wonder more.

Wonder what’s happening in the office at the end of that hallway.

My subconscious seems to be completely haunted by Monroe, especially with the recurring dream that I have.

It’s the same one every night.

Her at my doorstep, telling me I want her there.

I don’t want her there.

I never did.

And the stupid dream won’t go away.

She won’t go away, and it’s infuriating.

The whole point of her leaving me alone forever was to never see her again, even in the dream realm.

After the fifth night, I genuinely contemplated the idea that she was purposefully showing up in my dreams.

Fucking insane.

I know.

But I was out of options to blame this on.

Except myself.

And my fucking subconscious that’s taunting me with this.

I haven’t been able to look Jynx in the eye since the first dream of Monroe.

Somehow, since then, I can only correlate Jynx’s beautiful icy blue eyes to Monroe’s eyes.

Essentially, this has really screwed up my daily life.

And then Saturday approached, and somehow everything got worse.

Because I was left with two options.

Go to Eliza’s engagement party.

Or fake sick.

Eliza had been leaving breakfast on my desk all week with green sticky notes for me.

I would be a shitty person if I didn’t go.

But I knew she would be there.

Monroe would have to be there.

She’s definitely her bridesmaid.

Or maid of honor?

It was weird to even imagine Monroe anywhere near wedding festivities, or a wedding itself.

But I knew Eliza would have her there.

It was specified that everyone wear black.

I even had the perfect silky gown to wear—it was a halter neck, held up by thin straps.

The satin was black and glossy under the lights, appearing almost painted onto my body.

A band of lace cut across my waist and lower thighs, exposing my soft skin.  

The lace almost broke the dress into flashes of silk and see-through black, teasing without ever fully giving anything away.

I planned to wear my wavy hair up in an updo, letting the dress be the statement on my body.

That meant no necklace, especially with the halter neck.

Only a thin tennis bracelet on my wrist.

I stared at myself in the full-length mirror once I had on the black delicate heels.

My head tilted to the side, emphasizing my sharp jawline exposed by my updo.

I had put on extra bronzer and highlight, so I had this glow reflecting off of me.

It was probably one of my favorite looks.

But I couldn’t wear it.

I couldn’t fucking go.

Not when I keep imagining her there—being in the same room as her, inhaling the same air she exhaled.

I genuinely couldn’t do it if I tried.

A deep sigh fell from my lips, stepping back from the mirror so I could grab my phone.  

Guilt was already eating away at me as I thought of my excuse.

I was supposed to be there in twenty minutes.

Eliza was excited for me to meet Elan, her fiancé, and now I’m fucking canceling.

My thumbs typed against the screen, my body acting for my thoughts that screamed against it all.

It’s like I was watching it happen from inside my head.

Then my thumb hovered over the send button—

And I threw my phone on the bed.

Deep breaths fell from my lips, determining I had to go.

I couldn’t do that to Eliza.

I couldn’t make this about me or Monroe.

I wanted to show up for her.

So I deleted the text I had typed up, walking back into my bathroom so I could spray myself with one of my new perfumes.

It was more spicy, but somehow sweet with vanilla.

Then I grabbed my black clutch, walking out of my bedroom as Jynx hopped softly off my bed.

Her paws pattered against the floor, my heels clicking precisely with each step.

I made sure to lean down and give her head a soft kiss, drawing in a deep breath as I forced myself to meet her icy blue eyes with a smile.

Then I scratched behind her ears, rising to my full height again.

“Be back soon, Jynxie,” I murmured over my shoulder as I left my apartment and locked the door.

I checked my phone as I walked down the hallway toward the elevator.

Zion and Sarai knew that I had Eliza’s engagement party tonight.

Despite Monroe possibly being there, they encouraged me to go—even now, there were texts in the group chat telling me to have fun tonight.

I hearted the texts with a deep sigh, trying not to sike myself out further.

It didn’t help that I had time to myself with my heavy thoughts.

Seattle was dark from the night sky, the air damp with the aftermath of the rain from earlier.

Friday night meant a lot of traffic, especially when driving away from downtown.  

It was around a thirty-minute drive, minus the traffic, so I was decently late.

Especially after I got parked and sat in the car for minutes on end.

The moment I stepped out of my car, I inhaled a genuine breath of fresh air, taking in the tall trees towering over me and the other parked cars.

My heels clicked precisely on the dark pavement, walking toward the brick venue.

There were hundreds of fake white candles of different heights, leading toward the double black doors.

It made me stare in awe, walking toward the open double doors.

The orange-hued candles flowed inside, the chandelier above dim, and a soft chatter echoing from a room nearby.

There was a sign by the open doorway.

It read—

The Kids Are Engaged!

It was a picture of a little girl and a little boy smiling.

The photos taken were separate, photoshopped to look like they were together.

It was adorable, honestly.

It made me smile slightly as I walked further inside, walking past the sign toward the chatter and soft music.  

The dimmed lights were calming, especially as I walked into the ballroom of people dressed in black.

Gentle music carried throughout the room, overlooked by tall ceilings and chandeliers.

It was beautiful.

The crown molding that lined the top of the walls, and even the intricate carvings on the ceiling.

The familiar white candles were also at the edges of the room—a live band off in the corner of the ballroom.

There was even a champagne tower and catered snacks left out that I would actually eat.

I was genuinely in awe for a moment, determining that this was exactly what I had pictured for someone like Eliza.

People were even dancing together in the middle to the slow music, smiles and laughter among the chatter.

“Liberty!” I heard the familiar voice call out, making me glance over immediately.

I smiled as soon as I laid eyes on Eliza in a white corset dress.

It was V-cut with a simple white design, falling past her ankles and dragging elegantly on the ground.

Her short hair was down in these soft beach waves, and her face was covered in minimal makeup, almost going for a more natural look.

She looked beautiful.

“Eliza,” I murmured, my voice soft among the polite chatter.

“I’m so so happy you made it,” she rushed out with excitement, immediately pulling me into a hug.

“Me too. Thank you for inviting me,” I said, hugging her back as she gave me a firm squeeze.

“Of course. I needed you here,” Eliza said, her voice softened between us.

“You look incredible,” I said as soon as we pulled back from the hug.

Eliza’s smile grew wider, showing her perfect white teeth.

“Thank you,” she murmured, doing a cute little pose. “I adore this dress—” she suddenly glanced down. “And yours too. Wow.”

I smiled slightly. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I know it said long dresses, and black only, so I matched the theme.”

“You did more than match the theme,” Eliza determined, nudging my arm. “You seriously look incredible.”

My smile unconsciously grew, “Thanks, Eliza,” I said, glancing past her when a man with dark hair emerged from the crowd behind her.

“Liz,” his deep voice echoed softly, stopping directly behind her.

And as soon as he leaned in to kiss her cheek—

I knew this was him.

The fiancé.

He was in a crisp black suit, his features appearing more Filipino.

“Amiel wanted to get a picture with us,” he murmured to her.

Eliza smiled as she turned her head, meeting his stare. “The man of honor is quite needy,” she joked, leaning back into her fiancé’s body.

“He likes his pictures. You know my brother is a family man,” he said, glancing over to me.

Which inevitably made Eliza glance back at me.

“Oh, sweetheart, this Liberty,” Eliza suddenly said.

The man’s dark brows shot up immediately. “Liberty as in—”

“Liberty Fierro, yes,” Eliza cut him short before he could finish, stiffening up a little.

It made me tilt my head slightly, wondering if I had been a topic among them.

“I’m Elan, Liz’s fiancée,” he introduced himself. “It’s very nice to meet you then, Liberty,” the man added, reaching past Eliza to extend his hand. “Liz and Mon have talked very highly of you.”

I froze slightly as I lifted my hand, processing his words as he took my hand and gently shook it.  

“Nice to meet you, too,” I whispered awkwardly, trying not to appear blindsided by what he had said.

Eliza seemed to let out a deep sigh, “Right, well…” she trailed off, meeting Elan’s stare with a look that I knew meant he had said too much.

Elan seemed to catch on immediately, clearing his throat.

“Liz talks about you often,” he suddenly said, but it felt too late to cover anything up.

Monroe had talked to him about me.

It was an odd thought to even entertain in my head.

“I’m going to grab a glass of champagne,” I whispered with furrowed brows, unable to pretend that this wasn’t a weird conversation.

“Okay, yes,” Eliza said with a few nods. “I’ll find you after we finish with pictures,” she determined, earning a quick nod from me.

“Nice meeting you again,” was all I said to Elan before rushing off toward the champagne tower.

I let out a few deep breaths as I passed by people.

Everyone’s faces were unfamiliar, and suddenly it felt a little warm in here.

Maybe I shouldn’t have come.

Those were the words that echoed heavily in my head, trying not to look around too much.

I didn’t want to accidentally lay eyes on her.

If she was even here to begin with.

I wasn’t sure.

I didn’t want to be sure in the first place.

The champagne flute was cold in my hand, grounding me to the present moment rather than my thoughts.

I took a long sip of the bubbly liquid, focusing on the fizziness that tickled my throat as I swallowed.

Then I counted to ten in my head.

After, I counted back down to one, letting out the deepest sigh.

“You seem to be the only one alone here,” I heard a deep voice address me, making my stare shift over. “Which is ironic because you’re the prettiest one here.”

Before I could respond to the brunette man’s cringey words, a fake gag sounded just by him.

I almost wondered if I had made the sound without thinking.

But no.

A brunette woman stood behind him, with strikingly similar features.

They were both Filipino.

Her hair was tucked into a lower bun, and his was precisely gelled back with a side part—the glow of the dimmed lights and candles reflecting off their skin.

“Fuck off, Tessa,” the brunette man suddenly told her.

The brunette woman only chuckled in response, “Maybe think of better pick-up lines, weirdo,” the woman named Tessa said.

The man suddenly glanced back at me. “I’m sorry. Ignore her.”

“You should ignore him instead,” Tessa said as she nudged the man with her elbow, earning a deep grunt from him. “Amiel can be creepy.”

My brows raised immediately, recognizing the man’s name. “You’re the man of honor,” I observed, recalling Elan and Eliza just talking about him wanting a picture.

“I am. Are you a friend of Liz’s?” he asked as Tessa reached past me to grab a flute of champagne.

“Yes,” I murmured, extending my hand. “Liberty,” I introduced. “I’m purely into women before you waste any more of your time.”

“He would waste your time, even if you were into men,” the woman named Tessa suddenly interjected, making me chuckle slightly.

Amiel gave her a narrowed look in response. “Ignore my younger sister. Tess still hasn’t grown into her head.”

Tessa scoffed dramatically. “You haven’t grown into your nose, which seems…” I slowly drowned them out, my eyes shifting past them before I could help it.

Time felt just a little bit slower.

It was no longer hours that felt like minutes.

The seconds suddenly slowed into minutes instead, and all I could do was stare at her in the strapless silver gown she wore.

It looked like someone had personally airbrushed the dress onto her.

Her dark hair was down with her bangs framing her face, a subtle smile on her lips as she remained immersed in whatever conversation she was having.

The room almost felt hazy, and I considered whether this was another dream.

Especially as people dressed in black stood all around her.

She’s Eliza’s maid of honor.

That’s clear now as she stands in silver, every glimmer of light reflecting off of her effortlessly.

My stare unconsciously shifted, glancing over to the woman who stood with her.

She was older, jet-black waves cascading down her back as she wore a black long-sleeve gown.

I glanced back at Monroe, suddenly zoning in on the subtle smile on her lips.

“Liberty, right?”

I quickly snapped away from Monroe’s overall presence, locking eyes with Tessa again.

I furrowed my brows, realizing Amiel was long gone.

“He went back over to finish with pictures,” Tessa explained, noticing my confusion. “I’m the introvert of the family,” she joked.

“Do you want to dance?”

The words fell from my lips before I could think them through, entirely rushed.

But whether I liked it or not, there was this warmth trickling in around me, my body tenser than it was before.

Before I witnessed her smiling at someone else.

It didn’t matter to me.

I’m only unaccustomed to the sight of it.

But we’re both inevitably going to meet new people.

We’re going to date other people.

Maybe another woman will have better luck with her.

“Sure,” Tessa’s voice echoed into my thoughts as she set her champagne flute down.

I pursed my lips into a smile as I set my glass down too, walking with her through the crowd toward the center of the room.

The music was beautiful.

It was intimate among the chatter.

 “So you’re Liz’s friend?” Tessa asked as I wrapped my arms around her waist first.

Tessa followed suit, wrapping her arms around my waist in reciprocation.

“Yes, we met a few months ago,” I briefly explained, earning a nod from Tessa.

“That’s nice,” she murmured, her dark eyes holding mine.

At least until I glanced past her yet again.

This time, she wasn’t busy conversing.

No.

Monroe’s stare was on me, her expression effortlessly neutral.

But I couldn’t miss the subtle tilt of her head, emphasizing the shadow of her sharpened jawline.

Her stare dipped down, openly trailing the thin silk and lace clinging to my body.

I watched as she took in every shift of the fabric as I swayed, not bothering to hide her stare pinpointed on my dress.

Time felt even slower.

My face felt hotter.

“I should probably uh clarify that I’m not into women,” Tessa suddenly said, diverting my attention back to her. “I know you mentioned that to my brother, so I didn’t want to give the wrong idea.”

I smiled slightly.

Wider, on purpose.

“I appreciate that,” I determined as we swayed to the beat of the music. “I honestly just wanted to dance,” I quickly explained, knowing there was no further afterthought to it. “Without a man, at least,” I jokingly added.

Tessa laughed softly. “I get it,” she determined as we swayed together in a small turn, facing me away from Monroe’s overall presence. “I wish I did like women.”

I chuckled. “No, you don’t,” I mumbled. “The heartache with a woman is probably the worst thing you’ll ever experience in your life.”

Tessa laughed yet again. “I was just going to say because you're hot—”

“Tess.”

Tessa immediately glanced past me at the interjection of her velvety soft voice.

The mere sound of it sent goosebumps racing down my spine, my shoulders stiffening.

I could feel her presence behind me.

Even the warmth of her, despite the distance she probably kept between our bodies.

“I can take over from here,” Monroe calmly said, causing Tessa’s arms to slide away from my waist.

I could’ve said no.

I should’ve.

But I didn’t.

I was wordlessly fucking silent as Tessa stepped back from me with a polite smile.

“Of course. I’m going to go find my brothers,” she determined, walking away as Monroe stepped around me.

Her blue eyes locked with mine instantly, a heavy silence falling over us as she stood in front of me with her usual tall posture.

There was this weight between us.

Especially when Monroe glanced down, eyeing the space between us skeptically.

I inhaled sharply when she stepped forward.

But she didn’t reach for me in any way.

No.

She extended her hands, silently asking me to join her.

I stood there for a moment, eyeing her extended hands that were delicately held open.  

I could already feel the warmth of them—remember the softness of them against mine.

My stare shifted up, meeting her stare already on me, watching me.

She was gauging my reaction, trying to read where my head was at.

Where my thoughts were at, regardless of my silence.

I finally exhaled the breath that I didn’t realize I was holding, lifting my hands—

And hesitantly placing them in hers.

I glanced away from her as soon as she squeezed my hands in hers, trying to ignore the warmth, the softness, of her against me.

How familiar she felt.

How her powdery floral perfume wrapped around me with intention.

“How was your week?”

Her words were softened in a whisper, barely audible if I didn’t recognize her voice, like it was an instinct built inside of me.

“Good,” I forced out, unable to meet her blue eyes burning into my face. “Peaceful.”

“Lovely,” she said, earning a soft hum from me. “You look lovely, Liberty,” she suddenly emphasized.

My stomach twisted with knots, trying to fight my reaction to her words. To my name rolling of her tongue like it still belonged to her.

“Thanks,” I whispered as I avoided her eyes. “You too.”

Monroe hummed, a silence slowly filtering in between us.

Only for a few moments, soaking in the presence of one another.

“We agreed on distance,” I suddenly reminded her, zoning in on the champagne tower as a way to distract myself from meeting her stare.

“You were looking at me,” Monroe spoke in a soft whisper, “As if we never agreed on anything in the first place,” she emphasized, making my hands curl around hers.

It was a warning.

“I didn’t realize I had looked at you,” I lied, my voice in a lowered murmur.

“Of course,” Monroe didn’t hesitate to agree with me. “That’s the only reasonable explanation.”

I nodded stiffly. “This is still my worst nightmare,” I purposely added, not backing down on the words I said in her office.

“You dream of me?” she whispered so delicately.

I met her stare immediately, her words entirely catching me off guard.

Then I realized, it was an acknowledgment of her being a part of my worst nightmares.

Not the dreams I’ve had of her all week.  

“That’s the one thing you choose to focus on?” I asked, tilting my head at her. “You’re still as insane as ever.”

A hum vibrated in her throat, her blue eyes trailing my face.

“We can finally agree on something,” she determined.

I rolled my eyes.

Her soft lips twitched up in response.

It was silent between us for seconds on end, our eyes refusing to disconnect.

We swayed slightly together, but barely made an effort to fit into dancing with the rest of the crowd.

Then she let go of my hands and—

“Monroe,” I rushed out, saying her name aloud after months of refusing to.

Especially with her warm arms wrapped around me like they belonged there.

Like she wouldn’t rather hold anything else right now.

Her arms were loose with intention, holding me like I was some kind of fragile item she didn’t want to break again.

“I’m sorry.”

Her words were lowered by my ear, making my face burn up profusely.

“You’re sorry,” I observed, my words emotionless as I tried to process this moment.

That any of this was even happening to begin with.

“I hurt you,” Monroe stated, leaning further into my ear. “And I’m sorry, Liberty.”

I didn’t say anything.

I didn’t know what to say.

“That night…” Monroe trailed off as I tried to find something to say. Anything. “It doesn’t matter,” she suddenly determined. “It doesn’t change what I did. An apology won’t either. I’ve accepted that it won’t undo any of the decisions I made.”

“Good,” I forced out unconsciously, trying my best to stick my ground.

But it was so fucking hard with her leaning into me like this.

Her arms around my waist, and her body barely grazing mine.

“You smell…” she trailed off, confusion woven into her words. “Like vanilla.”

“Perfume,” I clarified, nearly holding my breath when she deeply inhaled me.

“I like it,” she whispered so softly that goosebumps raised on my arms, the back of my neck, fucking everywhere.

I couldn’t get any words out, suddenly.

She was silent too, but I could feel it—I could feel how heavy the unsaid words were between us.  

“Let me fight for you.”

Her sudden words were genuine and soft—so soft that all I could do was furrow my brows.

“What?” I asked, wanting to make sure I heard her properly.

Monroe pulled back slightly, staring down at me with this look behind her eyes.

I couldn’t tell if it was longing.

Or regret.

Or something else that I couldn’t put my finger on.

But it made my chest feel tighter than ever before.

“I want to fight for you,” she stated bluntly, her stare sinking into mine. “I’ve been trying to fight for you.”

My brows furrowed deeper as I stared up at her, trying to find my words.

I couldn’t even think properly.

“I was grateful to see you at Levane, yes, Liberty, but my god—” she suddenly let out a deep sigh, her chest deflating as she looked so deeply into my eyes. “I always planned to see you again.”

I shook my head without further thought, but no words came out.

“I wanted to see you again,” Monroe clarified, her hand delicately running down my spine and making me shiver against her. “Only when it benefited you.”

“What does that even mean?” was all I could say, feeling beyond confused by her words.

She was silent for a moment.

Her blue eyes not wavering from mine once.

“More than you could possibly know,” she whispered, her voice heavy.

With what, I wouldn’t know.

But there was something here.

Something she wanted to say, I could tell by how she was looking at me.

I didn’t know what to say.

All I could do was stare up at her, confusion written all over my face.

Before I could think it through—

I lifted my arms, wrapping them around her waist.

I could feel her relax.

I could see it too, especially as her darkened blue eyes held mine.

A small part of me loosened too, finally holding her again like I always used to.  

“What did you do?” I whispered, my voice weak with so much fucking emotion.

I hated it.

Monroe drew in a visible breath, squeezing her arms around my waist.

“I broke us,” was all she said, glancing away from me entirely. “And I’m not sure I’ll be able to fix this.”

“No,” I said, my brows furrowing deeper. “What did you do, Monroe?” I emphasized, repeating my previous words again.

She shook her head, still unable to meet my stare.

It was silent.

She was silent.

And I waited patiently for her to say something.

For her to answer my original question.

The question that led us here, to begin with.

“I lied to you.”

I already knew it.

I fucking knew she lied to me.

But she never confirmed it.

She never admitted it.

And now—

“Liberty.”

I could only shake my head, pulling away from her completely as I brushed past her.

I didn’t care who I had to push past.

I just needed to get out of there.

I needed to get away from her.

From the weight of her familiar presence—her touch, and voice.

Deep breaths echoed from my lips, finally pushing past the last few people out into the foyer.

The more she talks, the more it fucks up my progress.

It ruins how far I’ve come.

She lied, and that might just change everything.

It can’t change everything.

So I started to run.

I didn’t care that I was in heels.

I didn’t care that her voice echoed hazily in the distance behind me, calling out my name.

I fucking bolted out of that venue, my breaths heavy and tears blurring my vision.

I shouldn’t have come.

I shouldn’t have fucking come.

Now I’m stuck with this.

I’m stuck with her words, her confirmation.

She lied.

It was something I wanted to hear months ago.

Now I just wanted to pretend like she never said it.

Like it didn’t shift what had happened all those months ago.

I always knew there was more to that night.

More happened than I was aware of.

I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to hear the truth.

It’ll never set me free.

It’ll only remind me of what I lost at the cost of it.

What we lost.

We’ll never get that back.

She lied, and there are consequences to that.

That’s the conclusion here.