My broken bodyguard

- Open Gates -

C.4

Another person I crave approval of....

_______________________

His point of view

Today's my first day of working again, body-guarding Evangeline.

After having breakfast, I have my morning drink to ease my nerves. I barely slept after having another nightmare, which wasn't unusual if I went to bed sober, but the nervous feeling was new.

"Deep breaths."

I put the bottle down, not sure if it's excitement or nervousness that's making me dread the thought of having to see her again.

After last night's awkward incident, I went home, but not before promising that I'd move in later today. Which I'm already regretting.

Sighing. I stare in the mirror as I try on, yet another outfit. I need to blend in with the rest of the mid-twenty year olds walking around on campus, so I dive back into my closet. Not sure if hiding my tattoos was gonna be enough.

Twenty year olds have tattoos. Right? - I reason with myself as I take my jacket off.

Now that I think of it. I don't think I asked her how old she was last night. I'm just glad she's not a spoiled brat like I was afraid she might be.

Looking at myself dressed in loose fitted black denim jeans and a black polo shirt, trying to blend in with the other rich school kids.

I think I'm ready.

Oh wait-

Just realized I forgot to put my bullet proof shirt on that I was gifted by her father on my way out.

After putting it on underneath my shirt, I look back in the mirror.

"This looks... okay, right?"

When did we start caring what we look like?

Shut up.

I lift up my shirt to touch the odd-feeling fabric underneath. It's nothing like the bulletproof vests we had in the military. This one is so much lighter.

I sure hope he tested these.

I mean, I could...

Staring at my gun, I stop myself from testing it out. Can't show up with broken ribs at my first job.

Lame.

I was about to place my gun back in my waistband when I remembered I have a roommate.

A pretty dumb one at that.

I consider calling John to test it out on him. He won't be missed anyways...

Nah, I'll be late.

Lame.

"I'm pretty sure twenty-year olds don't use the word 'lame' anymore..." I sigh.

I'm also pretty sure twenty year olds don't talk to themselves out loud.

Shut up.

"Wow I need professional help... anyways." I sigh to myself as I gather my things.

Just like yesterday, I put on my jewelry and cologne before grabbing my keys.

I feel something slide against my pants and look down, only to see the brown kitten.

"Don't take over while I'm gone..." I whisper as I squat down to pet the little brown cat that's been living in our apartment for the past few weeks.