I clumsily place the box on the sidewalk outside the taxi before getting the rest of my things. Once I do, the taxi leaves, and I turn back to the building.

It's freezing; the wind buffets me in cold, sudden gusts. But that's not why I didn't walk to work today.

No, I could barely bring the box holding several potted plants down from my room; I didn't want to lug it all the way to work on foot. My arms may be decently strong, but they are not made for such an endeavor.

So with an unintended grunt, I pick up my box and walk to the door.

Or rather, I walk into the door.

Oh right. It's six in the morning. Michelle isn't here yet. No one's here yet.

I wiggle a bit to find my badge - I don't want to deal with the hassle of putting down and picking up the box - then a quick scan against the sensor has the door swinging open for me, and I walk in.

All the lights are on, of course; I don't think we ever turn those off. A light in the back flickers for a moment, and I eye it warily, hurrying my way to the elevator.

I press the elevator buttons with the box, but accidentally press 7 and 8, resulting in an extended period of time that I struggled to balance this weight. When the elevator doors slide open on the correct floor, at last, I dash out knowing I have 30 seconds tops before my arms give up on me and drop this box.

With a great deal of persistence and, unfortunately, more sweat than I'd like to have this early in the morning, I make it to my room just as my arms give out. I wince as the box lands with a jarring loudness but am glad to see that none of the ceramic pots have cracked.

It takes me a minute to catch my breath, but once I do, I find myself in a predicament: I have a heavy box to carry through a heavy door. It feels impossible.

I came so far for this though...

I indulge myself with a complaint that escapes my lips in the form of a high-pitched whine, but then I roll my shoulders back and push with all my might to open the door.

I can't just give up.

And that is how I find myself with one foot pressed up against the door to keep it open and the other planted firmly in front of me to keep my balance, as I use both hands to carefully drag the box into my room.

I'm halfway into a split when a deep voice startles me.

"Need a hand?"

In my surprise, I sink further down, and completely forget that anyone may be around me because, "Ow, ow, ow! Oh gosh, I haven't done this since I was in middle school. Ohhhhhh my hips!"

Suddenly, I feel two large hands around my waist pulling me up. I look up to see Liam in a navy blue silk shirt whose buttons barely hold his chest in.

Wait. Why is he here this early?

I can't ponder that question for long, though, because I realize I'm standing in his arms. My eyes widen and I push against Liam's chest as I take a few steps back. He does the same and I see a deep red blush spread up his neck.

But as always, he's the first to break the silence with a broad grin on his face, "I didn't know today was office yoga day."

"Haha," I say flatly. "I wish that was funny."

Liam nods, bending down. "Okay, maybe that wasn't my best joke." He straightens, now holding the box in his hands. "Where does this go?" he asks, lifting it a few inches higher.

I don't know if he does it on purpose, but I watch how the action causes the muscles in his arms to strain against the sleeves of his shirt, making them bulge out even more than they normally do.

Why am I noticing that? I need to stop looking at him!

I turn around - if only to look away from Liam and his annoying muscley muscles - and my eyes land on my desk.

"You can just put it there," I point.

"Anything else?"

I eye the biggest pot in the box apprehensively. "Actually... can you put that one - the one with all those leaves," I point too, just in case it's not obvious which plant I'm talking about, "In the corner there?"

He lifts it out of the box with ease, and for that, I despise him just a tad bit more. "What's all this for, anyway?"

"For... for life." I wave my hands in the air, hoping that it makes up for my feeble explanation. It's just that Liam has now crossed his arms over his chest and there's this one button that looks like it's about to pop off and it's all I can focus on for some ungodly reason.

It's time to eliminate this... distraction.

No! This nuisance is what I meant!

"Okay," I say, pushing him ineffectively, "Thank you, but you need to leave now because I have other things to do."

"Enjoy your... 'life'," Liam chuckles, making air quotes around the last word as he finally leaves my room.

***

With Liam out of sight, it's easy for me to get the rest of the plants out of the box and up onto the shelves and window sills.

By the time I'm done with that, the sun has begun to rise, and my room is once more bathed in golden light. I sit down at my desk to begin the day's work, but the huge, blank wall to my left stares, well, blankly, at me.

Resting my elbows on my desk and steepling my hands, I think for a moment before the perfect idea pops into my head.

I stand up from my desk and make my way to the closest storage room that I can find.

Inside, I find all sorts of supplies, from computer monitors to those erasers that you put on the end of pencils. But none of these items are what I'm looking for, so I explore further.

Finally, at the very back of the room do I find what I'm looking for: a whiteboard big enough to be a worthy canvas for an eight-year-old artist. And lucky for me, it has wheels at the bottom, which makes transporting the huge thing much easier than it would have been otherwise.

I'm more successful wheeling in the whiteboard than I was dragging in my box of potted plants; this time, I have the foresight to first put a door stopper in place before returning with the whiteboard.

It's only once the whiteboard is positioned in front of the previously blank wall do I remember that I need to find markers for it.

So that begins my next task.

I search through all my things and find orange, black, and rather faded brown - the latter, I end up throwing away - markers as well as an eraser and a cute little bucket to hold everything in. The two markers sit inside the bucket gloomily.

Unsatisfied with my collection of markers, I decide to wander around the floor in hopes of finding some more.

And I do.

I pick up a green marker from Ben's table and a blue one from Rhea's. While walking past a conference room, I find a purple marker next to a lighter blue one that I take with me as well.

People begin to arrive as I continue my search for other colors. Some notice what I'm doing and offer me their markers. I accept the new ones, but gratefully decline those who understandably miss that I'm looking specifically for different colors.

By the time I get back to my room, I have also acquired a light green, yellow, and red marker. I drop them all into the bucket, wincing slightly when they land with a loud clang.

I almost sit down, but I feel like something's missing.

One glance at the drawing Marabella made for me has me realizing what that something is - for all the different colored markers that I've just collected, I'm still missing a crucial one: pink.

The only problem is that I've walked all around and don't recall seeing a pink one anywhere.

Well, not everywhere, my brain reminds me.

Hesitantly, I bite my lip, before going to the one person I haven't gone to yet.

***

I knock on the door twice then wait.

"Come in," his voice calls.

I peek my head in and am greeted by a head of flaming red hair; Liam's writing something down. I clear my throat and he looks up.

"Diamond," His eyebrows rise, causing his forehead to furrow. "Why are you here?"

For a brief moment, I register that I don't quite mind when he says my name either. It's a shocking - no, harrowing - realization, but before I can think about it further, I am reminded of why I'm here by the large whiteboard he has in the corner of his room. "Do you have a pink marker?"

His eyes narrow in confusion. "A what?"

"Marker. Pink. It has to be pink. Please."

"Come... come in."

Oh right.

To my dismay, Liam's door is just as heavy as mine. I embarrass myself when I have to draw back and push the door open with both hands.

When that ordeal is over, I dust off my hands, unnecessarily, and see Liam's eyes lit up with mirth.

"Oh, shut up."

"I didn't say anything!" he exclaims in mock outrage.

I avoid telling him he's right by instead reminding him why I came here in the first place, "Marker. Pink?"

"Right, yes." He bends down for a second before emerging with a pack of new whiteboard markers. Liam uses a single finger to make a quick slash through the flimsy cardboard, then pries out the pink marker and tosses it to me.

Thankfully, I catch it without fumbling it.

With a pink marker finally in my hands and my overactive imagination excited over Marabella's reaction to the broad range of colors I've accumulated for her, I can't help but smile wide.

"Thank you, Liam," I say, holding up the marker between my thumb and index finger, "This... this means a lot to me."

I think I catch sight of a blush beginning at Liam's collar again, but he ducks behind his computer before I can be sure. "No problem," comes his gruff reply.

Despite his face being hidden from me, I think I can hear a smile in his voice.

It makes me smile too, for some odd reason. So before I can do anything foolish, I make my way to the door.

In my room, I drop the pink marker into the basket with the others before sitting down at my desk. It's just before eight.

Though I try to ignore it, I can tell that Liam remains in some back corner of my mind.

But I don't mind that.

Not today. Not after this morning.

Be that as it may, I still push him as far back as I can for the time being.

It's time I start my day.

***

A few hours after lunch, I wrap up what I'm working on and head down to the fourth floor.

Since I already know where to look, I find Elliott's cubicle much faster than the last time. He's in a similar position to what I found him in last time - hunched over and absorbed in his work. The only difference today, is that there's a little girl sitting in a chair behind him.

Marabella holds a book in her hand, leafing through the pages half-heartedly as her feet swing back and forth. Her hair falls in front of her in loose, brown waves which every so often, she blows out of her face.

It becomes clear to me almost immediately that neither of them will see unless I speak up. "Hello?"

Marabella sees me first. She drops her book with a loud gasp. "Daddy, look! It's Diamond!"

"Hi." Elliott looks up at me surprised. "You came."

I'm just a little hurt by his tone; he says it as though he didn't expect me to.

Of course I came.

I take a step backward, scared that I might have misunderstood something and that my presence is unwanted, but before I can apologize and make my escape, an anchor in the form of an eight-year-old girl holds me in place.

Marabella's small arms wind their way around my waist as she hugs me tight. Instinctively, my arms wrap around her, my one hand keeping the energetic child steady, and the other running through her hair carefully to ensure that it doesn't get all tangled up.

"Marabella," Elliot's voice is laced with warning. "What did we just talk about."

"Oh yeah!" Suddenly,  she pulls back and holds her hands in front of her, looking up at me bashfully. "Thank you for Jerry, Diamond."

That makes me pause. I look at Elliott and he stares back, just as confused. "Honey, what... who is Jerry?"

She spins to face Elliott, holding her hands out like it's the most obvious thing ever, "The unicorn. Remember, Daddy? I told you about how Charlotte and I named him."

Elliott's mouth forms an O and he shrugs at me helplessly. "Okay... Thank you, Marabella."

Rolling her eyes, she turns back to me and claps her hands excitedly. "I met all of Daddy's friends today," she informs me, proudly.

I nod along with genuine interest - her enthusiasm is truly contagious - but Elliott must mistake it for something else, because he rushes to explain, "I took her to one of my meetings."

Before I can assure him that that's totally alright, Marabella continues with her story, "I had to play the quiet game in that room. With myself."

That... that doesn't sound very fun.

But I smile nevertheless. Maybe Maraballa enjoyed the experience. And if so, who am I to make her think otherwise?

However, that notion is proved entirely wrong when Marabella tugs at my shirt, beckoning for me to crouch to her height. Once I do, she whispers into my ear conspiratorially, "Don't tell Daddy, but it actually wasn't that fun. I just told him it was."

Ah. Truth uncovered.

"Your secret is safe with me," I wink for fun, and Marabella giggles. "But I have a few... more fun things planned - if you want to come with me." She looks up at me unconvinced, so I shrug my shoulders innocently and add in a sing-song voice, "There'll be candy!"

It works like a charm. I think I've just ignited a fire behind her eyes - that's how bright they are - as she twirls back to Elliott once more. "Daddy, can I go?"

At this, Elliott looks at me with a raised eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

I put my hands on my hips stubbornly. "Two hundred percent, Elliott! I'll bring her back by five."

He purses his lips together in a worrying way. I backpedal. "Or, um, four? My bad, when should I bring her back?"

"Just within the hour is fine, Diamond. You have your own work to do, I'm sure; I don't want to impose."

"Ah," I nod my head in understanding. "In that case, I'll bring her back by five." I wrap an arm around Marabella and guide her out of the cubicle, ignoring Elliott, who has his mouth open, ready to deliver another pointless refusal. "Come on, Marabella. Let's go get some candy!"

***

Marabella and I hop into the elevator, and I take us to my old floor. I'd take her straight to the new one, but I'm more comfortable here, and it doesn't hurt that I have the place mapped out in my head.

"Tell me, Marabella," I say, holding her hand. "Are you more of a chocolate or candy girl?"

The expression that overcomes her face at my question is one of pure confliction, and I can't help but laugh. "Don't worry, we'll go for both. I was just asking what you want to get first."

She twirls a strand of her hair and smiles up at me. "I wanna get candy first."

"Sounds like a plan. Let's go say hi to Darius."

Darius being Darius sees us coming way before we arrive, and I watch as he ducks behind a wall to hide.

I forget to warn Marabella that Darius likes to play around, so when we stop at his desk, he jumps out with a loud, "Boo!"

Marabella shrieks and hides behind me; even I get startled a bit - and I was expecting it.

"Hey, sorry sweetie," Darius holds out the bowl that he always keeps stocked with candy - the good kind, of course - toward her as a peace-offering.

"It's okay, Marabella. Look, he has candy for you!" It works, getting Marabella to peek from behind my legs.

Darius extends the bowl more, allowing Marabella to quickly sift her hand through all the candy.

While she's choosing, he turns to face me. "Nice of you to drop by. Miss seeing you sneak by and grabbing candy... though you were always alone; I didn't know you have a kid."

My kid?

"Oh, no. She's- Marabella's my friend." I look back at her as she slips her fingers through mine again, having made her selection. "Isn't that right?"

She looks up at me, wonder in her eyes. "We are?" she asks.

I shift uncomfortably, remembering that it's not exactly normal for someone my age to call a child a friend. But I really do feel as though she's my friend; it's not that she's just Elliott's daughter. "If you'd like to be?"

She smiles wide, swinging our hands vigorously - nearly pulling my arm out of its socket, might I add - as she says, "Yes, please! And thank you for the candy."

Darius sends us off with a wave. "No problem, kid. Come back someday."

***

I'd thought Marabella was energetic before, but after sugar is added into the mix, she becomes 10 times jumpier. Literally.

She challenges André to a jumping race - they jump their way around a room thrice - and Iris to a regular one. She wins both.

And she is adored by everyone. As we make our way around, grabbing M&Ms and jellybeans alike, everyone stops working for a bit to engage Marabella in a short conversation; She must state her name, age, and favorite color about 20 times in just an hour.

Closer to the end of our "tour", I start to see the signs that Marabella's getting overwhelmed - she hides behind my legs more and more, and mumbles so quietly even I can barely hear her - so I take us to a quieter corner. There are couches, so I collapse beside Marabella, my hands full of all the candies and chocolates she hasn't gotten to eating yet.

"Hey Diamond?" Marabella says, biting down on the remains of a lollipop.

"Yes, dear?"

"Can we go to your office now? I wanna see what it looks like."

"Yes, of course. But... you're not tired?" I asked, concerned.

"A little," she admits. "But I can sit down there, right?"

"Absolutely, love. You want to go now, then?"

"Yes please."

***

By some miracle, I manage to open my door with both my hands still occupied. Though, it's not an easy achievement, nor is my pride spared; Marabella giggles the entire time I struggle with the door.

This door is more trouble than it's worth.

Well, almost. If I didn't love my privacy as much as I do, I'd probably get the door removed immediately.

"So..." I spread my arms out in front of me. "This is it."

Marabella doesn't say a thing. My arms fall.

Then I feel tug on my shirt. I look to see Marabella's eyes wide in excitement. "This. Is. Awesome!" she says in a loud whisper. "I want to shout, but Daddy told me I'm not allowed to do that here." Her arms vibrate with happiness as she holds her hands up to cover her mouth.

I sigh in relief.

She likes it.

She likes it!

I watch as Marabella wanders around the room. "Does he have a name?" She points to the Devil's ivy I have on the shelf.

"Um. No?" Naming a plant is something I'd never even think of doing. But... "You can name him though."

Marabella seats herself in my chair and starts spinning, her hands under her chin in a very serious pose of concentration."His name is Eric," she declares. Then, "Is that a whiteboard?!"

Ah, yes, the easily-distracted mind of a child. Simply delightful!

"It is," I say, reaching for the bucket of markers. "Would you like to draw?"

Her eyes light up. "I'm going to draw you, Diamond! Can I?"

I've never been drawn before.

"If that's what you'd like, Marabella," I say, giving her an out; I know I'm not the prettiest subject.

"Yep!" She pushes me toward my chair. "And you can just sit over there and do your work because I don't like it when people watch me draw."

Oh. Okay.

"Your wish is my command," I say. And with a flourish, I sit down.

***

Our arrangement works quite well; I get some extra work done, and Marabella is wholly and completely occupied by the whiteboard.

The best thing about a whiteboard is that images are easily erased. So of course, Marabella has a field day.

Her portrait of me is stunning.

Not because my eyebrows are wider than my nose, no. It's beautiful because she's drawn me in another one of her flower fields.

And all the flowers are

"Blue!" Marabella exclaims. "Because remember, you said your favorite color is blue!"

"I love it. Thank you." I take a picture of the whiteboard on my phone before I let her erase the image and start something new.

This is getting its own frame. A blue frame, perhaps.

***

As the clock nears five, I ask Marabella to begin wrapping up. I'd have no problem keeping her here for longer, but I made a promise to Elliott that I must uphold.

"Just one more drawing, please?" Marabella pouts, and my heart cries in agony. I wonder how Elliott ever says 'no' to this one.

We have less than five minutes before five.

"Um..." A knock at the door makes me pause. Thank goodness for divine intervention. "Okay, Marabella, one last drawing while I see who this is."

I open the door to find Liam leaning against the opposite wall, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black dress pants.

He smiles. "Hey."

"Just a second," I step out of the doorway and stand next to it instead. My mind drifts to this morning, and I bite back a small smile. Then I purse my lips, as I make up my mind, and drop my gaze and flutter my eyelashes obnoxiously, with a breathy, "Need a hand?"

It's meant to be a joke. Obviously.

I mean, I'd never act like this otherwise!

But it doesn't seem like that when I look back up at Liam.

He takes a step toward me; his hands leaving his pockets and drawing closer, closer, closer to my face...

And then he steps back. Not as far as he was before, but enough so that I no longer feel the heat of his hands on my face and the warmth of his breath on my skin.

I swallow hard. "That... it was a joke, Liam."

He's teetering, rocking back and forth on the balls of his heels, but he looks straight into my eyes with those deep, dark ocean eyes. "Of course." His voice is rough as the waves that crash on the beach at high tide.

It's quiet for a moment. I stare down at the ground, trying to regain my composure, before glancing back up. "Why are you here?" My voice comes out as a whisper, but I face him head-on with the brightest smile I can muster.

Liam meets my eye, all traces of the storm that swirled in their depths mere seconds ago, vanished. He shrugs. "I was thinking that maybe we could go-"

A loud grunt interrupts him.

We both turn to the source of the noise - my door - just as it opens. An arm sticks out, followed by a leg, and then, a head of long, brown waves. "Hiya!"

"Oh, Marabella!" I brush the hair out of her face before wrapping my arm around her. "That door is heavy, you alright?"

"Yep!" she chirps. "I'm as strong as Daddy, you know."

I can't hold back a giggle at her cuteness. "Oh, I know. Both you and your Daddy are very strong."

Marabella peers over my shoulder and timidly points a finger, "Who is that?"

Who?

Oh.

I forgot about Liam for a minute there.

I turn back to Liam to see that his features have changed again. He's standing straight, towering over Marabella and me. His smile has straightened into a grim expression.

But his eyes...

Liam's eyes contrast his intimidating posture, wide with confusion. I can see the lines in his forehead deepen the longer he stares at us.

"That," I tell Marabella, my voice soft once more. "Is Liam."

His jaw tightens and he nods once. "I'll see you, Diamond." What?! And before I can say anything, he stalks off.

"Uhh... let's get you back to your dad, hun."

Marabella entwines her fingers through mine as we walk out of the hallway. "Liam is a weirdo," she giggles. "He just walked away! It was so random!"

"It was," I mumble. "It was."

I forget I am Diamond, and worry about a "weirdo".

***

surprise!!

hi :)

i hope y'all love all the little moments in this chapter as much as i do...

MARABELLA IS THE MOST PRECIOUS LITTLE THING EVER OHMYGOSH I LOVE HER

and i mean... she's not entirely wrong about Liam... :o

anyways, that's that for chapter 9...  i'm going to be gone for the next couple of weeks, but i'll see you again sometime in january for ~blood and a broken nose~

**just kidding - the next chapter isn't really all that grotesque, but i am a sucker for alliteration soooo :)

so until i see you all again, Happy Holidays!!

all my love, and then some more

JustAnotherDarling

(don't forget to vote! :D)