The Bodyguard

Chapter 3 - A Sapphire Gaze

Zelda awakens to the rude blaring of her alarm, and she hazily slams the snooze button. Dragging herself out of bed with a sigh, she slips on her bedroom slippers and starts the dreadful journey downstairs. As she makes her way down the stairs, she begins to think of how inconvenient it is that Link will be following her all day. Perhaps, this "all day" thing excludes breakfast, she reassures herself. However, Zelda approaches the kitchen, and in it awaits her greatest dread—Link.

Except he isn't waiting for her; rather, he's doing the last thing she'd expect: he's cooking. With a swift hand he flips an omelette filled pan, and to his side lie a platter of pancakes, fruits, and a warm bowl of cinnamon oatmeal. Zelda instinctively wafts the warm aroma to her nose, taking in all of the wondrous smells. Link, heavily engrossed in his breakfast-making, doesn't seem to notice her for some time. He hums a song to himself as the eggs sizzle. When he does notice her, however, he offers a half-smile and a soft "good morning."

Zelda almost renounces her cold demeanor towards the boy when she spots the bowl of oatmeal; however, she remembers the circumstances and instead begins preparing her own oatmeal.

"That oatmeal is yours," Link calls absently over his shoulder. He sprinkles something on the omelette.

"Thank you," Zelda says briskly, warming her own oatmeal in the microwave. She taps her fingers against the countertop. "While I do appreciate your gesture, I am capable of making breakfast own my own. You are just my bodyguard, are you not? Then do not trouble yourself by being my chef as well," she stares at him momentarily, allowing him to process her words. He doesn't move. She offers a quick nod and a frown, taking her own bowl in her hands to eat in the dining room.

As Zelda silently eats her meal, she still hears the soft simmering of the stove and smells the lovely warm scents of breakfast from the kitchen. She sighs. Why is he cooking? Does he think I can't do anything on my own? He infuriates me. Losing her appetite, she shoves the bowl away and discards the dish in the dishwasher, skirting past a quietly content Link. He sits at the counter eating quickly, cleanly, as his fork scrapes the omelette (still warm on his plate); and he offers a neutral look to Zelda.

"I'm off to take a shower, bodyguard. If I happen to need you—which I strongly insist, I won't—then I shall call you. But otherwise, you may take your leave and head onto school when you wish," Zelda announces, her head held high. She glances at her watch, which reads 6:20. It isn't likely he'll need to go to school soon. I'm an imbecile!

Zelda silently curses herself as she returns to her bedroom. "What is he to do now? Wait until it's time for school? What will he do until then?" She slaps a palm to her forehead. "I swear, if he presses his ears against my bedroom door to monitor my every move I'll—forget it."

Zelda sighs, continuing her morning with her usual shower. The warm water feels smooth down her back, a comfort especially in the lingering autumnal season. Afterwards she applies her usual makeup and blow dries her hair before slipping on her school attire.
By the time 6:55 rolls around, Zelda silently parts her door to scan the hallways for him.

To her surprise, Link isn't plopped outside of her door nor is he waiting upon the bridge between their rooms. The hallway is devoid of anyone! Zelda, smiling to herself, walks across the corridor to her piano practice room. She fetches her music books and thumbs through the sheets to find a piece to practice. Rhoam expects her to play difficult pieces; however, feeling no obligation to fulfill Rhoam's request, Zelda selects a fast-paced song called the 'Song of Storms.'