❝ this is your bodyguard for the next little while, agent brendon urie. ❞
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𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.
𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐂𝐔, 𝐏𝐑𝐄-𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑.
𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄...
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YOU BIT YOUR BOTTOM LIP ANDRUBBED YOUR ARMS AS YOU PACED THELENGTH OF THE GLASS OFFICE. Two hours had passed since you'd arrived back at HQ, and Brendon still wasn't back yet. If you weren't worried back in Germany when he told you that he was staying to fight, you definitely were now. Yeah, Brendon could handle himself – you knew this, but the dread in the pit of your stomach wouldn't go away. As much as you despised him, and sometimes wished he would just disappear, you didn't actually want him to die.
Because you still needed him there to protect you.
Just when you thought that you were going to pass out from worry, Brendon entered the room.
You sighed in relief as your bodyguard made his way closer to you. "You're alive."
He cocked an eyebrow at you. "Don't sound so disappointed," he scoffed.
"I-I'm not," you frowned, "I'm actually..."
"Devastated?" he offered.
"Yes," you sighed, rolling your eyes. "I was so hoping you would come back in a body bag."
"Well, I'm always happy to disappoint you," he smiled sarcastically.
"Wouldn't have it any other way," you returned his smile, with ten times as much sarcasm.
Brendon ran his hand through his thick hair, and it was only then that you noticed the huge gash across his forehead. You let out a horror-filled gasp and he gave you a perplexed look.
"What?"
"You're hurt," you grimaced, crossing over to him so that you could get a better look.
"I'm fine," he brushed you off, "It's just a little scratch."
"It's more than a 'little scratch'," you scoffed, "Let me see."
Despite Brendon's best efforts to keep you away from his face, you managed to coerce him into sitting down on the sofa, while you went to grab the first aid kit that was stashed in the cabinet in the opposite corner of the office.
"I don't want you anywhere near my face," Brendon snapped as he eyed you while you unpacked the necessary supplies.
"Well, that's too bad," you retorted, breaking off a piece of cotton wool from the roll and opening the bottle of anti-septic, "because I'm going to clean you up."
