Mole x Reader- Merciless Mercenary

2.) the Guardian

Within three days the girl had seen paramedics take Ms. DeLorne's corpse out of her room and to the crematorium, cleaned both her room and dingy house, and from a distance, watch her old home officially be condemned. However, she never saw Christophe leave his room. It made sense for a grieving young man, but she worried he would stop eating, or worse.

As for herself, she was in an awkward limbo. Her aunt's death didn't phase her too greatly, but her new living situation- at least for the time being- was truly perplexing. Sure, she'd seen him retreating to the gymnasium occasionally to do God knows what a few times, but until their fight, she and him never exchanged voices. She, like the rest of the student body, heard rampant rumors that he was a mercenary. Well, they weren't exactly rumors, but little did the rumor know that. That being established in her mind, she oddly found that she did not fear him.He could neutralize her at any given moment, and nobody would look for or find her. Her calm wasn't ignorance; she understood that if he wanted to kill her, she'd be a name on his to-do list before he went so school.

Nevertheless, she made herself at home. She had pulled out the last dozen of cookies out of the newly cleaned oven, filling the house with a notable aroma. When she turned around, she nearly stepped right into the boy. It was obvious he had not slept for a single moment since his mother passed. The heavy scent of tobacco and nicotine was more prominent than usual, and his scowl was almost hollow.

"I figured you'd sleep through day four."

"I 'ave a night job."

"That sounds wonderful but you gotta eat something. Cookies?" She gestured with a treat in hand.

"No."

She lifted up his shirt and explored his torso, causing him to exclaim while blushing. He remembered not to strike her, considering everybody else who tried to touch him there tried to maim and kill him.

"Just as I thought. Nicely toned but underfed. Indulge and eat the cookie. You've earned it."

He complied. He then noticed they haven't had more distance in between them than two inches. He awkwardly stepped back a bit. They stood in odd silence for a while. This was the first time Christophe ever brought another person into his house, let alone a girl. A pretty one, too. The particularly inquisitive pretty girl had to indulge in her curiosities and talk to him about himself. Naturally, he didn't seem to be the talking type.

"So it's true, huh? You're really a mercenary?"

"Oui."

"When did you start?"

"Age seven. I started off as a typical contract rat but I manned up quickly."

"How does a seven-year-old even become a mercenary? Eighteen years old is the youngest I've ever heard of. Did you know some-"

"Are you writing my biography, bitch?!"

The girl did not flinch at his harsh lash, which slightly astounded him. She took a mental note as that being their first official boundary.

"So I guess they're gonna be looking for me soon."

"Who?"

"Social workers, I guess. Now that the aunt is dead, they're gonna stick me in a home or something."

"It's better ."

"I guess I never thanked you for... Taking care of her. I wanted to, or at least thought I did, but I couldn't go through with it. I'm just a pussy, I presume. But I should tell you it wasn't always bad. It only got abusive two or so years ago."

He said nothing, instead pulling out and lighting a cancer stick. His dark blue eyes simply analyzed as she spoke. He noticed that for once his house wasn't caked in squalor, rather clean and beautiful. He never really saw how nice it was before. He also was surprised at how he liked her cookies, taking a second one. He sighed.

"Zhis," he pointed to his injured eye, "tells me you're no pussy. And you need not vorry about foster care. I've gone out with my lawyer earlier and named myself your legal guardian."

"Is that even legal?"

"First zhing: zhat question is not to be asked. Second, oui, I am eighteen, therefore an adult to your seventeen year old minor."

He showed her the documents confirming his claims.

"Do not vorry about zhe bills. I get paid vell. You will not be harmed 'ere, eizher."

"And how am I to repay you?"

"Just keep up zhe domestic vork around zhe house."

His scowl made her unsure if she were a guest or prisoner. She was sure he had much experience in the latter. She really didn't want to live in foster care, so she considered this a positive thing. She meekly thanked him and have him a hug. She pulled back and noticed his eye was still black, making her smirk. She gently stroked the wound with her thumb. She filled the tea with water and placed it on a burner. When it came to a steam, she poured some into a mug and steeped a bag of blueberry tea. She ordered him to lay on the couch. She placed the bag on his eye, relieving the throbbing. He asked of they should have been in school for it was a Monday. She informed him the snow was severe enough for a cancellation. A cancellation that was extended into tomorrow. She yawned, then sat in his lap after he sat up.

"I'm not comfortable vith the level of intimacy at zhe moment."

"Well get used to it. I think we could use some."

He sighed and resigned. She was lighter on him than he expected, and was thankfully not bony. She gently pressed into him as she turned on the television and turned on the news, specifically weather.

"Christophe?"

"Oui?" He grunted.

"Thanks for saving me. I'll repay you, I promise."

"Vhatever."

She giggled softly before she kissed his cheek. It was an odd feeling, for he was never kissed before. He glared a bit, but secretly liked it. She fell asleep against him. She was more comfortable because he raised an arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, holding her protectively.