You were not always hardworking by nature, if there was an opportunity to avoid unnecessary work and body movements, then you were happy to shirk business, allowing yourself to be lazy. This condition of yours later turned into something more "chronic". It's elementary to get out of bed and make it up — you were too lazy, you didn't want to do absolutely anything.

Closer to the age of 35 and having gained a little more courage and strength, you turned to a specialist, because you could no longer feel like a living corpse who could not even do household things for yourself. After attending a sufficient number of sessions, slowly but surely, you returned to normal.

However, your father's death knocked you down again, you didn't have time to live peacefully for a year. Mountains of dishes, garbage and you, with bags under your eyes, completely broken. Nevertheless, even in such a realm, a ray of sunshine found a passage.

You and Leon studied together at the academy, only in different faculties. Journalism has always attracted you, but you have never been able to work in your profession. Having accidentally met Kennedy, word for word, harmless meetings after meetings... all this has now led to you working in the department with him, writing certain papers on missions, reports and so on. It's been going on for about two years now that you've been with the agent.

"It's all about your last assignment, I fixed something, look later so that everything is correct," the folder landed on Leon's desk, and you rubbed your temples. "Tired, my dear?" his hand landed gently on your waist, pulling you towards him as he pushed the office chair away from the table he was sitting at. "There is a little, but nothing, I will last until the end of the day," the agent gently put you on his lap. "If it gets worse, tell me, I'll take you home, but in the meantime... sit with me for a while," lips touched your temple before Kennedy began to read the document that you brought him.