The Bodyguard

Books and Waves

Emilia stares at the waves before her as she lays back on the towel he had been kind enough to set up for her as he sits in the beach chair he had brought, those sunglasses back on and looking like a very hot hard ass. 

She can't help the little smirk that crosses her face as she slips out of her coverup, self-conscious of her body as she puts on a thin layer of sunblock on her front, focusing on her face shoulders and cleavage. She wasn't sure why but those seemed to be the only things that ever burned, her stomach and legs just never getting enough sun for some reason. Of course, she was determined to change this very uneven tan as she lays back, putting the sunglasses on before pulling her book out of the bag beside her.

Against her previous judgement at the coffee shop, this one was a romance novel, and one of her favorites. She just desperately hoped that Alexander wouldn't judge her for reading this, romance is a popular genre, but still, there is always such stigma about it that she doesn't know what others think when she openly reads it.

Disappearing behind its pages as she lets her stomach and legs tan openly beneath the heavy sun that makes her feel sleepy and lethargic. She had never figured out why that was, but she had to admit, it was a very nice feeling to be so relaxed after everything that had happened.

Jazz may have assumed that a party and breaking rules would cure her of the stress, but this is all she needs, some glorious sun, decent quiet, and an amazing book that had her wishing she had a boyfriend. She couldn't help but imagine herself in the position of the girl in the story, what she would do instead, and when the man showed up, she replaced him with Alexander momentarily. She didn't even realize what she was doing, he was just there, the glorious mob boss protecting his smitten, innocent girl from the dangerous world he lives in, but falling for each other all the while.

What Emilia doesn't know is that while she read, Alexander watches her, heating up in his black jacket but refusing to shed it, feeling the uneasy shift of sand beneath his fancy leather shoes and gritting his teeth at the feeling of a few grains grinding their way into his socks. He did not particularly like the beach, he preferred the gym any day of the week, a solid workout on stable ground, or a quick boxing match with another man, the victory, the sweat, it gave him a rush that a relaxing day on unbearable sand with annoying children and loud adults did not. 

The beach only holds an unstable battle ground with too many distractions in his eyes, too many entry and exit points, too many unknown variables and he does not like it. He is a bodyguard, it is his job, and it is what he is good at, he can stay objective no matter what.

So why does this girl set his nerves on fire and put his heart and soul into the task of protecting her? What is so special about this girl who has gotten mixed up in something she doesn't understand and won't leave well enough alone. She frustrates him certainly, to start with, she doesn't want the protection that he offers. Secondly, she distracts him with every little smile, every thank you, every step that she takes and he can't tell if it is only annoyance or distraction with the girl that does so. And lastly, her persistence, her persistence at picking at every single loose thread and tiny hole she can find in Mr. Delmont's stories and business dealings, and of all the things, this worries him the most.

As relaxed as she is, laying there in the sun that makes her skin glisten with a small sparkle that is possibly from sweat or sand he can't tell, the book slowly lowering onto her face little by little as she drifts off in the afternoon sun, he knows that a day at the beach is clearly not all she wants from today's excursion. There is something to do with her obsession with Mr. Delmont's lies, and he has to figure it out before she gets injured, or gets herself killed.

He is a dangerous man, and involving an innocent civilian, will not be the powerful man's downfall, but it could be hers.

Growling in frustration at the situation at hand, he folds his fingers together, gazing around at the beach, there are no surfers here, a few couples, an adult with a pair of children, and a few guys that were very invested in exploring the rockpools on the southern side of the beach that probably held starfish and other uninteresting creatures.

The only problem with the beach, is he stands out like a sore thumb, and as Emilia rolls onto her front, deciding a nap would be perfect just about now she tries not to laugh out loud at Alexander. He is clearly overheating in his jacket, and by the way he is constantly shuffling his feet, he probably has some sand in his socks.

Trying to hide the laugh and the sun making her sleepier but bolder, she calls over to him to come to her.

Of course, he immediately does so without hesitation, concern written in the line of his mouth as he hurries, still very uncomfortable in his shoes.

"Alexander, this is a beach." She tells him softly, still trying to keep her grin hidden behind her hand as she props herself up on her elbows.

"Yes, it is?" He responds, a little bit of a question in the statement as he raises a slight eyebrow, wondering where she could possibly be going with this.

"So, you can relax." She draws out the answer as if it is an obvious one that he should have realized long ago.

"I'm not sure I understand you, Emilia." He clears his throat, linking his hands behind his back as she lets out a sigh of exasperation and gets to her feet.

"That means, take off your jacket and your shoes, and sit on the other towel."

Not to her surprise, he doesn't obey, just stands there staring at her. Deciding enough is enough she stands up and pulls out the extra towel she had brought, laying it on the sand beside her before pointing to him then the towel. He still seems extremely hesitant, and she finally lifts her glasses and steps a little closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his forearm.

"Alexander, you can't honestly believe that there is going to be someone here to hurt me, it is a beach, and a very small one. Just, relax with me, ok?" She asks, looking into his glasses with a slight pleading expression and she can feel him give in, his arm relax slightly beneath her touch as he gives the smallest of nods and steps away to take off his jacket and place it on the chair, his white shirt soaked in a few places with sweat and his gun suddenly obvious to the world as he takes it out of his holster and places it on the sand beside the towel before taking a seat and removing those shoes, neat as ever about it.

Emilia lays back down on her own towel, feeling rather victorious as she sees him lean back a little but still sitting up, refusing to relax completely. She lets out a small huff of disappointment at his refusal but lays her head on her folded arms, enjoying the warmth on her back as she allows her eyes to drift slowly closed.

She doesn't notice Alexander's focus shift from the water and people back to her once more, his hand on the gun positioned beneath his knees to be hidden from the pedestrians. He didn't know what it was, but she was beautiful.

He found it so hard to relax, sitting there in the sun, watching over her as she sleeps. But somehow, it felt right, he wasn't relaxed, he wasn't even close, but it was right. He smiles to himself looking back out at sea.

And there they stayed, her napping, him guarding, for the duration of an afternoon. Eventually, he does start getting rather bored with it, and looked back to her and then his eyes traveled to her book. He felt a tiny smirk travel across his face as he reaches across her slowly and takes hold, careful not to lose her place in it.

He tries not to laugh as he reads the back, a mafia boss falls in love with a girl and tries to protect her from the realities of the world. He snorts out a little laugh, how ironic, how incredibly ironic. He smirks to himself as he puts it back down, turning it over and back in the position that she had it in originally.

She enjoyed romance, the protection, the hot guy, everything. He only wonders now if he fits that description, and if maybe, just maybe, she sees him when she reads that book, or even in her dreams.

He watches the people playing, and watches the waves as they crash onto the shore, for the first time really smiling to himself as he leans back on his hands. Maybe a little relaxation is ok, just until she wakes up.