Bodyguard | PJM

5. Bodyguard

Numbed pain surrounds my skull as I stretch my arms. There's a wet cloth on my forehead and I open my eyes. Then I scream.
A cross-armed guy is standing right in front of my bed.

"What the hell?!"

His eyes dart down to me for a second before he looks back up. "Hello. I am your bodyguard, Park Jimin."

Park Jimin...the guy from the mall!

Seeing my shock, he smirks slightly before hiding it.

I call my dad and when he picks up, I immediately start talking. "Appa, what happened?"

He sighs on the other end. "You can ask Jimin, but they tried to attack you."

"Dammit, money-crazy bastards!"

"Lee Kyung Mi, watch your mouth!"

"Ah, yes. I'm sorry. But," I lower my voice and cover my hand over my mouth and the phone, "it's really creepy. He watched me when I was asleep."

"That's his job. To watch and protect you. Just pretend he's not there, okay? I'm hanging up."

I sigh before pointing at Jimin and saying, "hey, what happened?"

He looks down at me. "When you ran out of the house, your dad called me. He gave me a tracker attached to your watch-"

He pauses as I try to find the said item. "It's installed inside the watch so you can't see it." He explains. "Anyway, I found you right before a Sparked Mafia hit you unconscious."

"S-Sparked Mafia?" The hell is that?

"Rebellious Mafias who formed their own group." There's a hint of annoyance in his voice, probably at my obliviousness. "So I knocked them out and brought you back home."

I sit up and the cloth that was on my head falls into my lap. I hold it up, silently asking him a question, and he nods. "I gave you some medicine and cooled you down. You'll be fine after a few hours."

Despite his explanation, I'm not pleased. I take off my watch and throw it at him—he catches it with ease and raises his brow.

"You can keep your stupid tracker. I don't need that watch anyway." I glare at him, lifting my blanket off of me. "I'm going to the bathroom and I expect you to be gone by the time I come out of it. You can tell my dad your resigning since I can take-"

"Care of yourself? Is that why you were attacked unconscious the second you let your guard down?" He crosses his arms, unamused.

I cross my arms back stubbornly. "Fine, but that was a fluke. I'll do better from now on."

He suddenly throws the watch back at me, and when I catch it he smiles. "At least your reflexes work. Regardless, I hate to break it to you, but I'm not leaving until the day your father tells me to."

I heave a sigh, knowing I lost. Until I move out, Appa can tell me to follow his rules. But once I find an apartment, Jimin is out.

+++

I take a bite of cereal awkwardly. Then I glance at Jimin, who's standing a few feet behind me.

"You...you want something to eat?"

He shakes his head. "But water..."

I scurry up to get a glass and fill it up. I give it to him and he gulps it down. He sighs in relief and thanks me before going to the fridge and helping himself to more.

I chuckle. "Make yourself at home. My pantry is now yours."

He scoffs. "No thanks."

"Be grateful boy, it's rare for a girl to give you access to her snacks!"

"I'm not a freeloader. I'll get food from myself." He mutters.

"Yeah, from where? Aren't you supposed to be with me at all times?"

"Well, when you go out to do whatever, I'll do it then." He shrugs and leans against the counter, hair falling into his eyes. He scoops it back with his hand.

"What if I don't go out then, huh? What if I just stay home for a week?"

"Then I won't eat."

"What the fuck, Jimin!" I run to the fridge and bring out an array of side dishes, a bowl and some chopsticks. "Take however much you want."

"You seem generous."

I shrug as I take another spoon of cereal. "If you're not financially challenged then shouldn't you give as much as possible?"

He smiles slightly, taking the chopsticks and trying different things. "Spoon?" He asks, pointing to the Miyeok guk* in front of him.

"Top drawer by the fridge."

"Was it someone's birthday?" He asks as he walks to it, referring to the soup.

I shake my head. "I was feeling nostalgic, so my dad made it for me."

"Why were you feeling nostalgic?"

"I missed someone after I visited their grave the other day." I say quietly, and he seems to get it.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Kyung Mi."

"No, it's okay." I wipe a tear about to fall and smile brightly at him. "How's the soup?"

"Perfect!" He makes an okay sign and scrunches his nose in an attempt to make me smile.

And boy does it work.

---

a/n:

*Miyeok--meaning seaweed--guk--meaning soup--is a seaweed beef soup that is often eaten on birthdays in Korea.