The Bodyguard

Doubtful Breakfast

Emilia lays in bed at 10 am, unmoving, staring at the canopy over head and reliving the night's events in her mind over and over again. She didn't want to move, she didn't want to find out that after midnight had just been a dream, a making of her imagination after what had happened on the stairs and she had simply fallen asleep on her desk, not spent nearly an hour in the kitchen, trying to clean a very burnt pan with Alexander standing behind her, fingers tracing any exposed skin from around her waist to the back of her neck just light enough to let her know he was right there beside her.

That hour had culminated in their third scorching kiss, this one for goodnight, and as far as she knows, he is still standing just outside that door waiting for her. Knowing that makes her suddenly extremely giddy, butterflies racing in her too empty stomach, and a smile tugging at her lips, trying to force its way onto her face every moment as she shoves it back. 

She doesn't even know the man! Not really, and yet, if that is the case, why does she want to plant her lips on his again, or have him trap her against the door and press those lips to every inch of exposed skin she has. 

Taking a shaky breath, Emilia finally climbs out of bed, she doesn't need to think about this, she doesn't, and she shouldn't. Besides, she has plans for the day, and she needs to keep her head on her body if she really is going to figure this thing out once and for all.

Getting dressed in her usual tank top and a pair of sweatpants she finds under a pile of leggings that she had tossed in two days ago, she decides she can wash her face and attempt to look cute later as she brushes the tangles from her hair and runs her fingers through it. Leaving it down for the moment she slides socks onto her feet before hesitating at the door.

Does she really want to open it? To see him? Well, the obvious answer is yes, but she doesn't know why, there is just something there that tugs at her aching heart harder than anyone else ever had.

Taking a breath she turns the handle slowly before cracking it open to see if he is there. Of course, he is, tall and straight back in his suit jacket once more, the casual dress shirt from last night hidden once more.

Looking up slowly to meet his eyes, Emilia gives him a small smile which he, surprisingly enough, returns though rather more stiffly than hers.

"Good morning, Miss Emilia, how are you feeling?" He asks, the first question that has nothing t do with his job, the first question that really has to do with her. She can feel her heart skip a beat and her smile try to widen a little further than was strictly necessary.

"I am well, yourself?" She asks, stepping into the hallway and letting go of the handle as she closes the door behind her. As she does so, he takes a gentle hold of her wrist, lifting it to near his eye level and checking over the slightly puffy red line in her palm.

"I am doing perfectly fine, thank you for asking miss." His voice is tight again as he slowly lowers her hand without comment on her stupidity and allowing it to hang by her side once more. "I believe that Mrs. Delmont has just finished a late breakfast but the food is still out if you would like some." He is so formal that she just wants to kiss him to have him break that frozen exterior.

"That would be lovely." She replies instead, just as stiff and frozen as he is, matching his monotone voice in every way but the small smile still on her lips that threatens a frown.

He confuses her, she thinks as she turns towards the stairs to walk back down, as she had done very early that very morning, just glad that she doesn't have to go in the kitchen again. It seems that everytime they are together in that kitchen, something happens that just has her heart all the more confused. Last night had been a wonderful moment, but what had he meant by it? Did he want to date her? To court her? Or did he just want a girl to kiss and with all the time he would be spending with her, she was the best option? Or could it be something more sinister, what if he had been told to do this by Mr. Delmont so he can persuade her to stay in line and not make more trouble. It had all happened after he talked with Mr. Delmont after her little escapade with Jazz, could that be the reason?