two

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hello all! how are we doing? i'm trying to enjoy my last few days of freedom before my new semester starts🫠

also! since i'm still feeling a bit under the weather, this chapter wasn't proofread fully. if there are any mistakes, please ignore them. i will fix them once i'm feeling better😭

happy readings and stay safe besties! -salem🤍

TW: swearing, sexual innuendos, mentions of alcohol
word count: 3305

Y/n made her way into the glass classroom. She kept her head down as she walked in and sat in the aisle seat. Ever since she saw Emily at the club she works at, she'd been dreading coming back here. Granted, it had been less than forty-eight hours, but they were the most dreaded hours to Y/n.

"Good morning everyone," Emily said as she walked into the classroom. Her eyes scanned the class as they landed on Y/n's. "Nice of you all to be here on time today."

Yeah, that one was a low blow. Emily even knew that.

"Before we begin, I want to remind everyone of the handbook given to you when you were accepted into this program. It goes over the expectations of this quick program. If I feel as though there are some issues with certain people, they will be dealt with by me," Emily said as she glanced around the class. She could see the nerves of each student who thought she was referring to them. Her eyes locked onto Y/n who immediately glanced down as Emily looked at her. "I hope everyone had a good night's rest because now the real work starts. You are to be devoted to this job to prove yourself to the bureau. They only have room for the very best, and absoultely no faulty excuses."

'Could you be anymore obvious,' Y/n thought and looked at Emily through her eyelashes. She noticed Emily's eyes were down, locked onto something that was catching her attention. Y/n glanced down and didn't notice anything on her legs.

What did she have a problem with now?

"Alright, who knows the premise of profiling? All of you should know the very definition of it at least," Emily said and made her way around the desk. She leaned back crossed her ankles. "Agent Y/l/n, the definition please."

"It's to analyze human behavior before making conclusions," Y/n said and felt her stomach churn. She hated the fact that Professor Prentiss was singling her out. "That's the bare minimum definition."

"Yes it is," Emily said and tilted her head up. "I want more than the bare minimum definition."

"To analyze any potential perpetrator's psychological or physical behavior to cross examine them with the acts committed and important history related to the problem," Y/n said and swallowed harshly. Emily licked her lips slowly as she nodded her head. "That's the true definition."

"Good," Emily said and stood up straight. "And what exactly causes this perpetrator to snap and go on the violent rage for us to get called in."

"A trigger is necessary. That's the point where the perpetrator does the unthinkable. Stressors cause them to have these emotions in the first place," Y/n said and interlocked her hands in front of her.

Emily's eyes landed on the simple black band on her ring finger. She couldn't help but wonder if Tara was right. Maybe Y/n did have a family that she needed to focus on. Wearing a ring didn't have to mean that someone was married or engaged. Emily couldn't help but have the overwhelming desire to know what was the truth.

"I assume you're married by the ring. But my instincts say that you just like the look of a simple black band on your finger. Plus you can never make your mind up on whether you like silver or gold jewelry better. But primarily, it keeps certain people away from you. It's like a shield from any person who thinks they can have a chance. Like filthy men who like to prey on single women," Emily said and made her way to stand in front of Y/n. "You're not married, correct?"

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