The Bodyguard

Terms

Emily turns over, squinting into her open curtain's daylight, wanting to shove them closed and fall back asleep again, but she knows too well if she gets out of bed she isn't getting back in. Letting out a groan she turns over to the other way again, covering her head with the blanket so she doesn't have to face that blinding window. 

As she does, she immediately notices the odd gritty, sticky feeling of her body and looks down to notice she is still wearing her swimsuit and coverup from the day before and she tries to remember why that is. She does remember the agreement in the car, Alexander saying that he would show her so she wouldn't get herself killed in the process. But then the question is when, hopefully today, she muses, deciding that she's done beating around that particular bush and throwing off the covers in major need of a shower.

She knows she should probably wash her sheets and blankets as well, but she is far too lazy to do so, besides, she doesn't even know where the washer is.

Stripping down and showering quickly, trying to keep her hair out of it because it is still pretty good from the previous day, she gets dressed in the usual pair of leggings, tank top and oversized cardigan that makes her feel small, a feeling that she quite enjoys. Obviously not the cutest outfit in the world, but it is a very comfortable one.

Brushing out her hair before flipping it into a messy bun directly atop her head, twirling the stray hairs in circles to try and keep them out of her face around the hairband. Glancing at her appearance she tries not to groan at the reflection staring back at her. She is far too pale and clearly a little sunburnt on her back from taking that nap. She had the feeling that was going to be rather agonizing for a while.

Keeping her head on her shoulders, she opens the door to nearly get hit on the nose by Alexander getting ready to knock. How could she have forgotten that he was right outside the door?

Memories of last night flood back to her in that instant, the dead man, the guns, the agreement. The agreement. She swallows hard, trying to keep herself under control and not freak out immediately. Today is the day, she is going to figure out everything and she is going to finally get those damned answers.

"Miss Emilia, would you like to have coffee with me this morning?" His voice isn't what it had been last night, it wasn't angry or harsh, still cold but slightly cajoling. Encouraging her to say yes to the rather odd invitation. Did he mean like a date? Or was he only trying to get her alone and out of the house?

"I'd be happy to, just let me put some shoes on." Emilia leaves the door open as she goes to put on her pair of tennis shoes, definitely not wanting to make the mistake of heels again. But as she goes to snatch her phone from the table just in case a hand is placed on hers and she looks up questioningly at Alexander.

"Let's be on our way, shall we?" He asks, giving the smallest shake of his head as she tries to grab it once more, tugging her hand slightly to get her moving. That in itself seemed slightly ominous, she didn't generally travel without a phone, just for emergency reasons, but this seems important to him that she not bring it.

Frowning slightly she nods and follows him out the door. She had to admit, she was expecting it to be considerably more difficult to not only ask him about it, but for him to take the time to talk to her. But it seems he spent nearly as much time thinking about this moment as she has, and came to the conclusion of how to show her. Or maybe just tell her.

Emilia can feel her heart racing in her chest as they climb into the car and peel out of the gate for the third time. Each time they had done this, something bad had happened. First the photographer at the club, then the docks. But with every one of these occurrences, it has been her fault, she had told him to take her to the Red Room, she had forced him to go to the docks, but now it is his turn. And her turn to trust him.