Inked Souls | a bodyguard romance

Prologue

Growing up, I was the girl with small dreams.

Never imagined wearing a beautiful white wedding gown one day, marrying my prince charming.

When asked what I'd like to become when I grow up, I'd reply with "I want to sell flowers".

"So you don't want to be rich when you grow up?"

Rick. Money. Wealth. As a kid, you don't understand the meaning behind those words.

1.000 € sounded like endless money to spend on. When in reality you'd realize while growing up, that most people spent 1.000 € on their bills of rent, insurance, cars and groceries alone. 1.000 € is not even the minimum wage. Yet, it is still a lot of money. If someone would receive 1.000 € from a stranger with no strings attached, everyone would find a way to spend the money. Whether it is to close a debt, to invest it further, or to treat themselves to something fancy. We would all find a way to use the money.

In high school, when my classmates would tell our teachers that they were studying to become lawyers, doctors, teachers or business managers, I'd quietly confess: "I'm studying to survive". To survive from the ocean of darkness that had chained me to the depths of the origin, the shackles straining against my skin with each breath that I took.

I was trying to survive.

To make it out of high school.

To leave and never look back again.

I was the happiest the day I finally left.
I walked back home, curled up in my bed and cried before I fell asleep when exhaustion had taken over me.
Yet, it had been the happiest I have felt during those three years.

The Prince of the school, whom I had become friends with during a student exchange, had waved when I was descending the stairs for the final time. I had not seen him. I had not known that he wanted to congratulate me on graduating. I had not known that he wanted to tell me that he was proud of me for surviving. I'd get to know this information many years later. It had been for the best, I probably would have broken down in tears in front of him. And who would like to cry in front of the most popular guy in the school?

"You have such a low passion drive, are you one of those girls who want to marry rich instead of working hard?", I was told once after being asked what my 10-year plan looked like. I was, and still am, convinced that everyone is lying when they answer that question. Who below the age of 30 has their life together and can confidently plan the next decade? Who can map out a schedule and follow it? With no shortcuts, with no breaks, with no plot twists or change of plans? I call it bullshit.

Did I want to marry rich? No, the wedding concept still was not a crossing thought of mine. Obviously, I would not mind if my future partner had a good income that would allow us a comfortable life. As long as they liked it. As long as they did not loathe their entire life decisions the moment the alarm rang in the morning.

I barely knew what to eat the next day. I was indecisive to plan my meals for the following week and end up grocery shopping on an empty stomach only to return to my dormitory with a shitton of snacks and barely any ingredients to cook. The average university student experience. Annoying myself for the repetitive mistake and settling on pasta with another sauce. In my humble defence, pasta tastes good, no matter what. No matter what time. I had eaten a shameless amount of it for breakfast during exam seasons. No regrets.

My career dreams had shifted by this time, from a flower shop owner to a psychology student. So had my home address. From the small town of Germany to the capital of Denmark, Kopenhagen.

I wanted my peace.
I wanted to be good at what I was doing.
And more than all, I wanted to gain the confidence to chase a bigger dream.