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JUST BREATHE, ASTORIA. BREATH
I try calming myself. A bodyguard? The anxiety rushing in my body is a thin stream of fear trickling through my mind. How dangerous can this girl be?
"What?" I ask calmly, trying my best to mask my confusion.
"It's for your own safety. I do not want to take any risks, and definitely not with you," He says while picking up the papers he placed on his desk before our conversation, "You're too important for this Reestablishment, too important to me."
I frowned at the thought of having someone follow me all the time, but when I looked at Aaron, in his beautiful green eyes, I just could not help but agree with him.
I would want the same for him, he is important to me too. He's the only reason I have not entirely gone insane in this shithole.
I smile lightly, trying to make him feel more at ease, "When will this bodyguard begin his.. guarding job?" I ask quietly, afraid my vioce will betray the anxiety rushing through my veins.
He looks up and smiles a bit, relieved I am letting it happen.
"Today, probably after dinner."
Today? After dinner? That's in like two hours? I do not have enough time to prepare myself. I cannot- Breath, Astoria.
"Alright, I'll see you at dinner then," I say to him, smilling a bit. He just nods at me.
I turn once again towards the door and leave.
—————————
I walk through the deppresive hallways, not paying attention to anything or anyone at all. My mind is spinning, trying to figure out what is happening. Anxiety getting the best of me, again.
It's extremely hard to explain to people who have never known severe anxiety the sheer continuous intensity of it. There is no off switch.
I keep waking, the bright lights that normally fill the hallways with eye-burning light, seem to have darkened a bit. Now that I think about it, everything around me seems darker than it normally is.
What is happening to me?
My thoughts cloud my vision. I keep walking, until I suddenly bump into something. My thoughts disappear when I realize this "something" I bumped into, is actually a someone. A soldier. My soldier.
"Sorry," I muttur out, trying to walk around the soldier. The soldier grabs my arm and pulls me back infront of him.
I look up, ready to threathen him. As my eyes meet his, do I get a good look of his face.
