A Knife on His Lap|| Bodyguard AU

Nari the Explorer

~Nariya Patel~

My breath caught in my throat as I observed the unfolding scenery, my hand frozen midair in astonishment. It felt as though I had been transported to another dimension entirely. While the view inside the house was warm and cozy, what lay beyond my door was a direct reflection of the man whose house I was staying in.

The walls, painted in a cool grey, complemented the oak wooden floor, creating a contrast that gave the house a sophisticated yet somewhat cold atmosphere. The one-room layout had main areas sectioned off using dividers and shifts in interior design, with individual rooms arranged in a way that each led to the common family foyer.

The furnishings in the foyer were minimal, featuring complimentary tones that made the space feel both spacious and grand. Despite the absence of visible dust anywhere, even under the tables and chairs, the space seemed to lack the warmth of human touch. It was evident that the master's preference leaned towards a pristine environment, but it didn't appear that the space was frequently used.

Connecting to the foyer led to the guest hall, kitchen, garden, and then stairs scattered in each direction. Walking, or more like hopping around, I could sense which spaces were frequented and which ones were relatively untouched. It was apparent that the kitchen emanated warmth, while the drawing room felt particularly cold.

The garden, visible through the large panel windows, encircled the property and connected to the patio outside my room. A small shed nestled in one corner of the garden, likely housing all the gardening tools.

I hopped along the stone pathway, basking in the beaming autumn sunshine, as Nyx rolled right next to my leg. It was then that I noticed the shed was securely locked from the outside, with a note attached to it.

"Dangerous tools, Don't enter"

I whispered an "oh" before spotting a tiny path leading to the garage area. It was a bit farther from the garden, and it took me quite a while—and a lot of one-legged energy—to reach it. The door stood wide open, with its road-facing entrance securely shut. The spacious interior could easily accommodate two cars, one of which was parked while the other left its rim marks on the way out.

A staircase beckoned, and I ascended it cautiously. As I reached the top, I noticed that half of the garage had been transformed into a wood workshop. This area exuded warmth, leaving me curious about the creative endeavors of its maker, Alexie. Unfortunately, the stairs leading down looked starkly different from the solid concrete ones I had climbed. They consisted of single slabs of wooden structures floating midair, attached only at one corner. It seemed questionable whether they could support my hopping—or so I thought.

Turning back, I retraced my steps to the house. The hopping had stirred a craving for a snack or a piece of fruit. Recalling the enticing display of apples on the kitchen island during my arrival, I decided to head there. As I entered the garage area, my attention was drawn to another door. Intrigued, I opened it, only to find myself beneath the staircase, right next to the main entrance. It became evident that the house was structured in the form of a symmetrical circle, guiding the onlooker back to where they started, no matter which path they took.

Despite the pinch in my stomach, I glanced up the stairs. However, the allure of the apples took precedence. Fortunately, I no longer had to traverse the entire garden to reach the kitchen.

The kitchen of the house proved to be another warm and inviting area, filled with personal touches that suggested it was well-loved. Despite the overall pristine cleanliness of the entire house, the kitchen bore evidence of being a space cherished and used frequently. True to the man's promise, it was equipped with everything one might need.

As I took in the surroundings, a fleeting memory of cooking with my mother surfaced. It was a time when she had prepared a special dish for a guest, and I had eagerly assisted her, marveling at her culinary skills. However, the details of the rest of that memory seemed to have faded away over time.

I shook my head, feeling my eyes welling up with tears as I looked down. It wasn't even that long ago, yet the fear of forgetting crept in. All the precious memories I had made with her now seemed like a distant past, almost like a fairy princess dream that never happened.

As if sensing my sadness, Nyx sympathetically meowed and rubbed her head against my leg. A smile broke through as I wiped away my tears, saying, "I'm fine, Nyx. Thanks for your worries, but it's like I'm afraid that I'll forget." I sighed, continuing to express my thoughts more to myself, "My memories with her are few and far between, but they are more precious than gold. And it makes me feel even worse that she tried her hardest to balance everything and still made time for me whenever I needed her. So, you see, Nyx, what if I forget those precious times? Will I... will I forget her as well?"

Nyx's large green eyes stared at me, her face conveying a sense of understanding. She meowed and rubbed her head against me in comfort, and I couldn't help but smile at her. Bending down and balancing my weight on the counter, I attempted to pick her up. Surely, she wouldn't mind being held for a moment. Cats, however, have their own terms for affection, and humans are merely their obedient followers. Any misstep against their wills can lead to disaster. As soon as I picked her up, she slipped right out of my grip, her form not solid but rather a jelly-like substance, shape-shifting at her command.

She darted away, and in my frenzy, I ran after her, the adrenaline masking any pain in my injured leg. Sensing a chase, Nyx's speed amplified, and she dashed up the stairs. As I stepped onto the first step, a loud crack echoed in the empty space, startling me. The high of the chase vanished as I groaned, clutching the railing for support. I had put too much pressure on my leg, and my injury responded tenfold with pain. Crouching down, I noticed that my frenzy had caused another note to fall from its intended place, probably attached to the railing grip as a quick warning if I decided to climb up.

"But what a loud creak, he should probably get those stairs repaired," I thought as I read through the note. However, my eyes widened at its content. The incredible penmanship that I had observed earlier was replaced by ghastly sharp strokes, forming a simple yet commanding warning.

"DO NOT GO UP"

I snapped my head at the sound of the pin input for the front door, my eyes widening in shock. Had I been out exploring for so long, I wondered? Feeling like a thief caught doing something naughty in his house, I instinctively did what most thieves would do – I sprinted back, or more accurately, hopped back.

It was a long dash from one end to another to reach my room, but somehow I made it in time. From the foyer, I watched him come in carrying a bunch of groceries, but something about him felt odd. His posture slouched a bit as he ripped off his tie, throwing it haphazardly on a nearby bench. He sighed, running his hands through his hair before heading towards the kitchen. By that time, I had already entered my room and, from the slight crack in the closing door, watched as his features looked troubled and tired. I couldn't help but wonder what had happened.