The Suicide Helpline | ✔ #Wattys2018

40

X A N D R A

Words cannot describe how much Shawn's blessed. Along with good looks, he possesses a beautiful heart, too.

It's been a week since I moved out from the hospital. My father, who is called by the name of Xavier, and my mother, who is known by the name of Natalie, take care of me, like I am some fragile Barbie doll, not that I'm complaining or anything.

I, actually, love the attention I'm getting.

I haven't asked them the reason yet, about why I wasn't with them for seventeen years, but I'm planning to ask soon.

Meanwhile, my smart father has been interviewing Shawn about his jobs and background. Because, apparently, Shawn is like boyfriend material to them. And they think we both are dating or something.

Not that I don't like the idea. But, you know what I mean.

Also, they have appointed like millions of bodyguards to protect me, day and night. So, in case I go to the washroom and come out, there's a dozen of guys standing there, waiting for me, which is not quite appealing, at least to me.

Xavier, er, my dad, who I call Xavier, has asked three specialists in guns use, to teach me and Shawn how to shoot. By the looks of everything, I've concluded, my dad is a bit weird, like the gangster kind of weird.

I'm still into my train of thoughts when someone knocks on my door.

"Come in.", I speak, placing the pillows on my bed in a bit good way. Shawn peeks through the door, his head visible, a beautiful grin plastered on his beautiful, beautiful face.

"Was someone missing me?", he teases and I chuckle.

"Someone was missing you. But that someone, definitely, doesn't live here.", I smirk and he narrows his eyes in an accusing manner.

"You just don't accept it. I know how much you have feelings for me.", he smirks and sits on the bed.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure.", I wave him off.

"You don't?", he challenges.

"What do you think?", I ask him, as I take one pillow and lean on it.

"I think..", he trails off.

"Yes?"

"I think.."

"Hm hm?"

"I think that it's time to go for shooting practice.", he laughs and ruffles my hair, earning a glare in return.

"Whatever."

We walk towards the door as he continuously laughs his ass off, on his lame joke, which wasn't funny at all.

I roll my eyes, completely ignoring him and make my way towards the stairs, which look like they are from a huge Hollywood movie or something. Trust me, my house is huge.

The bodyguards are standing at their ready position when we arrive at the field, and the specialists, too, are waiting at their particular positions.

Shawn is, particularly, more interested in learning how to shoot, than I am. Apparently, he thinks, it's more  badass, and his friends would be jealous. Trust him to behave like a five year old.

As we both are about to take our shots, I feel someone watch us and turn around. My head tells me, the watchers are the bodyguards, but my intuition says otherwise.

But, I find out soon. And I'm not happy with the finding.

*****