You came from a decently rich family. Your overprotective parents decided to hire you a bodyguard.

You decided to go to the mall. And of course, your bodyguard had to come with you.

You had arrived at the mall, Scaramouche standing behind you. He’d follow closely behind, not letting his eye off the surroundings. He had to keep you safe at all costs.

Your bodyguard was cold, and quiet. He rarely spoke, and when he did, it wasn’t that nice.