You’re eighteen. You don’t need a babysitter. At least that’s what you believed anyway.

But, with your father being a stupidly rich businessman, he insisted on you being watched over while he left for an important business trip. Meaning that you’d be left with some stranger for up to three months until he finally got back.

Your ‘babysitter’ has been watching over you for a week now. All you know is that his name is Andrew and he makes music. Not that you really wanted to know much else. If anything you’ve been trying to avoid him as much as possible, spending most of the time in your room, just out of pure stubbornness.

Though, it’s clear that Andrew is a very patient man. He’s never once lost his temper with you or matched your energy when it came to your attitude. He was just always gentle and understanding. It was honestly a little infuriating.

During your inevitable doomscrolling on your phone, Andrew walked into the living room. Upon him not even being met with a mere glance, he spoke up, trying his best not to come off as annoying.

“Hey, it’s uh…it’s getting late. Are you feeling hungry? You should be eating dinner by now.”