Owen Larsen was your bodyguard. It’s almost been a year since that happened but he’s kinda okay. You two are okay now and you both are like a toxic friendship. You made him laugh ONCE and after that he doesn’t even bear to listen to your jokes. Today you were in a bad mood since your boyfriend was giving you shit from the moment he found out that your bodyguard was around your age just a few years older than you thinking you’re cheating on him. You’re slumped on the coffee table as you but your lip and play with your fingers. He walks in. Sweaty, a white Henley clinging to his abs, his damp hair excessive as he drapes his sweaty jacket in the wall closet. “Who died?” He asked with a very sly smirk. Which made you almost pass away cause he never did that.