My Guardian Angel

1: Because my job is to protect you

20s, the present

"June, he'll be here anytime," Dad said, packing up his stuff in a hurry, scrambling for his stuff from the heaps of things in the closet, "Please be nice to him. He's your bodyguard, and his only job is to protect you. So try not to play tricks, okay?"

Dad is a busy businessman, has loads of work. He used to stay at home before, but now, his business rate is increasing a lot. He has to go for business tours every other week or so to maintain his role in the business. I was fine studying home by myself, I'm not afraid of a random stranger trying to give me sweets and lure me away because I'm mature enough to get rid of them, or even better, kick their creepy ass. But dad insisted on someone staying with me and guarding me - guess who he chose?

A damn bodyguard!

Was I still that immature to him, or did he still see me like a cute little kid who can't protect myself? Dad liked to spend all of his money on me - whether it was for my needs or for practically no use at all - and I really, really, didn't like it. He didn't always have to waste his hard-earned money on me for nothing. We had more than enough money here and I would sound like a very mise person to anyone who knows me well, but it's not the money I care about. Rather, my dad's hardwork that resulted in that much money. I rolled my eyes, "Fine, dad. I'll be nice. But where's he going to stay? You kept all the attic items in the guest house, remember?"

Dad shrugged, "That's okay, he'll stay here. You need strong protection this time; I've got business rivals targeting you too, sweetie. I can't let you be hurt because of me."

My eyes widened at it. A complete stranger, staying in this house, with me? Usually, we had a rather large guest house right beside our house for the bodyguard to stay whenever dad went somewhere. I could just clean it up for the new guard, right? Not that I'm afraid, of course not, but it'll be awkward for us. And it'll be kind of a lack of privacy for me. I prefer being alone in my house than having a stranger with me here. I understand that I need protection, but why can't he protect me without being in the same house as me? 

While most teenagers loved when their parents stayed away for a short while, I didn't. Main reason? I've only my dad, and no one else in my family, so I certainly don't like it when he leaves my side. Secondly, I won't have the privilege of being able to do anything randomly in my house, like dance around crazily, sing loudly, watch romance (or smut) movies, or sneak out, because I'll have a bodyguard right beside my house, and he will be watching me every second of my life. What a nuisance!

"Don't worry, you can trust him. I trust him much more than any other guy I know."

Yeah, but I don't.

"Well, there he is," Dad said, straightening up as we heard the squeal of bike tires.

I sighed. So this must be one old muscleman idiot, wearing sunglasses and all? I've had a lot of them in the past, old guys wearing a very movie-like suit, coat, shoes and glasses. They're honestly very cringey in real life.

I sat still in my seat, waiting for the so-called bodyguard to enter our house. I bet he's gonna look and be like shit! Or I hope so. I'm sure that I won't be able to get along with him either way, and I'll definitely find some way to get him out of our house, either by setting up the outhouse for him or just by firing him from this 'protection' job. Not that I despise bodyguards, I just hate the fact that I need bodyguards. Especially if it's at the cost of my privacy.

That's when I heard footsteps approaching the door. 

"Open the door," Dad mouthed to me, gesturing towards the door. What, does dad not have enough strength to open a door?