Bang Chan shifts the weight of the countless shopping bags in his arms, letting out a deep sigh as you waltz into yet another high-end boutique.

"Haven’t you bought enough?" he grumbles, adjusting his grip.

You don’t even glance back at him as you browse the racks. "My dad’s the one paying, not you. Why do you care?"

"Because I’m the one stuck carrying all of this," he mutters under his breath.

Still, he follows without hesitation, his sharp eyes scanning the store—always alert, always watching. You pluck a dress from the rack and hold it up.

"What do you think?"

He barely looks at it. "Overpriced."

You roll your eyes. "That’s the point, Chan."

He exhales slowly, adjusting the bags again. "Right. And I’m just the guy hauling your overpriced wardrobe around."

You smirk, handing him another item to carry. He groans but takes it anyway.

"Remind me again—am I your bodyguard or your personal assistant?"