Detailed Roleplayers discussion
1x1
>
нєαтнєя & Aηgєℓєηα :)
Liva didn't mention anything about him, but with the look they exchanged he knew that she figured he wasn't in such a good mood. He braced himself for more of her brutality, her vanity and her ignorance, but it never came. She had been quiet, following him down the hall to the grand staircase that probably costed more than his apartment. Liva tended to say the wrong things all the time, but he wasn't sure if it had been on purpose or not. It was only the first day, and Hugh was already exhausted, even fed up. He wasn't used to being tested like this, and he just knew that something bad would happen at some point. Whether he lose his temper, accidentally hurt Liva, or walk out on his assignment, he knew it was imevitable. It could have been all three, had she provoked him. He didn't want to warn Liva about how temperamental he was, but seeing how she continued to joke and tease him time to time, nobody at the agency had really mentioned his issues. Either that, or she was pushing them, wondering if what they all said was true. Of course it wasn't, he could be nice. Sometimes. Hugh exaggerated a heavy sigh in the fridge, gripping the refrigerator door. Not this, again? A little exasperated, Hugh grumbled to himself, poking his hand inside the drawers to find fruits in those flimsy plastic bags from the grocery stores. Vegetables were in the next drawer over, a gap where the lettuce and mushrooms had been. His fingers trailed over the meat drawer, his blue eyes narrowing at the dates. Fresh, good. There were so many options and choices, he didn't know how to help Liva decide. It always perplexed him when he saw how well loaded some people's fridges were, how they always seemed to know what to cook for themselves. Hugh lived day to day for the most part, sometimes deciding to opt out on meals because it would save him a few dollars. The orphanage had never prepared him for cooking for himself, so it was a bit of a struggle his first year in training all alone, going through cereal boxes and frozen meals every day.
Since then, he'd picked up his diet, cleaned up his habits, and invested in a cooking book. He hadn't brought it with him, a little embarassed of what his client would think. He was right to have worried, Hugh was sure that Liva would have picked it out right away that he didn't know how to cook, but at the same time, she didn't K ow the first thing about washing mushrooms. He was oblivious in his thoughts as Liva reached our behind him, then retracted her hand a second later. She spoke up, however, and thst caught Hugh's interest. Her voice was timid and humbled, gentle, unlike their encounter earlier. "You what?" Hugh removed his head from the fridge, raising an eyebrow to test her. She would help? It did a little to lift Hugh's sour mood, although he still held a heavy grudge. It hadn't been her fault that she didn't know much about his background, or the fact that she had offended him in that subtle way, but he couldnt let go of those kinds of things. He dwelled on them, and all this hatred simply mounted inside of him.
"I hope you like grilled cheese," he grumbled at last, immersing himself back into the refrigerator. Grilled cheese was quick and easy, all he had to do was make it, show Liva how to do it, and then he was free to go back to his room again. Sullen, Hugh grabbed the sliced package of lunch ham, the Kraft cheese singles, and the loaf of regular bread that had been crammed haphazardly into the corner of the fridge shelf. He tossed these onto the counter by the smooth burner stoves, then setting his mind to finding some sort of pan or grill to preoccupied his mind. He felt an awkward air fill the kitchen, neither of them talking, while Liva stood to the side and he busily tried to make her a dinner with what little cooking skills he possessed even after several years on his own.
He found the pan at last, clicking on the heat to warm it up with his back to Liva. Instead, he frustrated himself with attempting to open the ham, only to realize he'd been trying in vain to open it the wrong way. His blue eyes flashed, and his movements to open the cheese halted then, Liva's apology crashing down on him. She was sorry about earlier? Hugh didn't know how to interpret it, slowly peeling the individual prepackaged slices apart from the encasing. Was she sorry about throwing a fit? About driving terribly? Or was it the comment she'd made about him always being grumpy? "It's fine," Hugh grunted, not even bothering to look over his shoulder to address her. He didn't have the heart to, sounding more weary than still bothered by the incidents.
The bread toasted lightly on both sides, Hugh carefully layered the cheese and the ham, then the top piece of bread. "Come here," Hugh said after a moment, the pink having faded mostly from his eyes. The mark from his pillow still remained, unknowingly causing a red series of lines down his jaw and cheek. "You might as well learn," he murmured, pressing the other piece of bread down over the now completed sandwhich. He stepped to the other side of Liva, scooting the finished grilled cheese that was now oozing with melted cheese onto a a small plate. "Two pieces of bread, let them sit for... a minute or so," he instructed first, his tone bleak as was normal. He pointed and gestured this way and that, walking her through the steps of how to make a stupid grilled cheese sandwhich while his cooled on the counter.
(view spoiler)
((I'm going to try to respond to this one today once I think of what to write! I have a project to work on for French, though, so I'm going to be going back and forth between writing replies and doing that. :/ ))
(view spoiler)“Grilled…cheese?” Liva echoed, blinking at the words. She wondered if she understood him correctly. Maybe she was just struggling with the English, because those two things didn’t seem to fit together in her mind. She had absolutely no clue what a grilled cheese sandwich was, as her meals were usually much more expensive and complex. She wondered if maybe grilled cheese was just the American slang for a food she was familiar with, but deep down she knew this was just another thing she was ignorant to. She watched as Hugh fetched the ingredients, shocked that they were so…few in number. Ham, cheese, and bread… Was that it? Hugh seemed to know what he was doing, even if he did struggle with opening some of the packages, so for once Liva kep her mouth shut, fiddling the bottom of her shirt and feeling very out of place in the kitchen. Until Hugh seemed to freeze at her apology to him. Liva felt anxious little flutters causing trouble in her chest in anticipation of how he would react to it. She was stupid to apologize, stupid to do everything she was doing right now… But no matter how stupid she thought she was being, Liva still felt relieved when he accepted it. There, that should fix the guilt and she could be done with the bodyguard and all these stupid insecurities that were suddenly seeping into her soul.
But she wasn’t done with them, unfortunately. Liva still felt…odd. And she hated it. It was all Hugh’s fault that she felt all strange and indecisive all of the sudden. Him, with his cruel, pretty eyes and those very human emotions that Liva couldn’t understand. Yeah, she was a human being too, but… People always said she didn’t feel the way normal people did. With Liva, it was all or nothing. Either she felt everything, every single emotion all at once, or she felt nothing at all. It was those times that she was at her most cruel, when she didn’t realize the things she did hurt others. Needless to say, Liva had always known she wasn’t…normal. No, normal was for commoners, she told herself. She was a queen. “Hm?” Liva blinked, realizing she had been staring at the pan on the burner, watching mindlessly as Hugh worked as her thoughts traveled far and wide. If it were any other time, Liva would have gotten angry with him for ordering her around like that. She would have taken that pan from the stove and bludgeoned him for speaking to her as if he were the one in charge… But right now, she merely stepped forward hesitantly in order to comply, nervous at the thought of embarrassing herself. “Um…okay.” She cleared her throat, reaching for the bread as he instructed. Liva seemed very wary of the burner and what it was capable of, so she was quick to drop the bread in the pan and retract her hands.
And the next thing she knew, Liva was actually making something, quietly obeying Hugh’s instructions and watching in awe as it all came together. She should throw a fit, she knew, at the idea of cooking for herself… But Liva truthfully found the whole thing a little exciting. So what if it was only a grilled cheese sandwich? Liva felt independent and capable…and even more strange. She had always been independent and capable. Being able to make a sandwich shouldn’t make any difference… But somehow it did. Liva found herself even smiling a little as Hugh instructed her in that blank, emotionless voice of his, feeling as though she was listening to a GPS in a car. Flip the bread in one minute. Slide the bread onto the plate. Place the cheese over the ham. Another thing that she shouldn’t find amusing. Hugh was telling her what to do and Liva hated being told what to do… But maybe it wasn’t like that. Hugh wasn’t ordering her around; he was guiding her… Liva’s smile vanished suddenly and she stiffened as she finished up the sandwich, scorning herself for being silly.
Stepping back from the completed sandwich in order to let it cool, Liva crossed her arms over her chest and appraised Hugh for a moment, her eyes sparkling briefly as if she was about to make some snide comment about his cooking or his expression or whatever else. But then she smiled slightly and let out a little huff of air, a laugh that was barely that, and looked away. Liva ducked her head down and moved over to the sink in order to wash her hands. As always, she couldn’t stand the thought of even a little crumb of bread staining her skin. After wiping her hands off with the towel, Liva hoped up so that she was sitting on the counter beside the plates, her hands clasping the edge of the granite and her legs dangling beneath her. This position put her an inch taller than Hugh, thanks to the height of the island, and for a moment she was reminded of something from childhood - when she would sneak into her father’s throne room as a little girl and place herself in his seat. And then she would talk to herself, pretend she was giving a speech to her loyal subjects. On her darker days, whenever her brother would take her dolls or they would serve a vegetable she didn’t like for dinner, she would pretend she was sending someone away for execution, of course… But what child didn’t wish to kill their brother after their doll’s hair got cut off? “Tell me something about yourself.” Liva said suddenly, cocking her head at Hugh, that teasing light back in her eyes. She controlled everything. She wouldn’t be indecisive and she wouldn’t let Hugh make her feel all weak and guilty. Maybe once she knew a little more about him she could find some control over their relationship again… Or at least be able to refrain from hurting his feelings again. Though she had rarely felt guilty before, she could already tell she wasn’t too fond of the feeling and would prefer it go away for good. “How old are you? Do you live in Los Angeles? Married, perhaps?” She swung her legs carelessly, glancing down at her grilled cheese sandwich curiously, wondering if the cheese was cool enough to consume now. “Have you always wanted to be an agent?” Liva was no longer looking at him as she poked at the top slice of bread on her sandwich, trying to assess how hot it was. Seeming satisfied, she hoped down and looked around the kitchen until she found a drawer of eating utensils. She withdrew a knife and fork, prepared to eat it as she would any cuisine back home.
((After he answers the questions should he go up ti his room all upset and like moody again? Then you can pick up when she leaves?))
((Sure, that works. ^.^ Poor Hugh...))
It was difficult to read Liva, especially in the kitchen at that moment. One moment she was a cheerful bundle of pleasant sunshine, another, she was snapping her dangerous jaws at him because he wouldn't make her food, and the next, she was mute and blank-stared. For someone who liked to know everything around him, it made him considerably uncomfortable, his mind poised to be ready for any sort of attack that could possibly eject itself from those lips. He knew now that he couldnt let his guard up around someone like Liva, because he had no way of telling when it would be next that she would stab him in the back with those sly, poisonous words that could utterly destroy him front he inside out. He'd come close earlier to falling into one of his old breakdowns, the ones his medication sometimes helped to prevent, and that had been too much of a narrow miss to sit well with him. Being here was dangerous, with Liva. She had, on the first day, already torn him open, and pushed his emotional limits to an extent he hadn't known was possible for a stranger. She knew nothing about him save for his name and occupation, and she was already causing a stir of all too familiar emotions within him. Hugh had found a comfortable rythm with his life, a way to shut out all distractions, but now, a girl had disturbed the healthy balance he'd struggled to find since he was a toddler capable of mindful thought. Living alone for a few years had proved to shelter him, provide extra down time and extra space away from those at work or in the streets from provoking his temper. Liva... she was simply too much. Hugh saw a resignation from the assignment in his near future, as damaging to his self esteem and pride as it would be. He couldn't carry on in this reckless fashion, with so much uncertainty lying behind those cunning, sly blue eyes.
The blonde princess listened to everything Hugh had to say, following every direction somewhat stiffly with hesitation. He sometimes had to give her extra direction, or position the ham differently than she had, but otherwise, Liva hadn't done such a bad job. It proved to both of them how capable she was of being independent, which was a breath of fresh air for him. Now, at least, Liva could make herself a grilled cheese or a piece of toast if her appetite fancied something to eat at a inconvenient time when he didn't want to supervise her. She didn't say much during their cooking, and for that, he was rather relieved. The tense air had melted with the cheese into a comfortably warm atmosphere, one where nobody was yelling, nobody was pouting, nobody was disturbed.
For now, he could forgive Liva for the turn of events earlier, but they still brewed deep inside of him for later. It was nearly impossible for Hugh to let go of grudges, to allow apologies to erase bitter feelings. But for now, he'd forgive Liva. For now. "Good," Hugh mumbled, handing Liva her plate once the grilled cheese had been deemed acceptably cooked within the eight minutes from their beginning. He snapped off the heat burners, eyeing Liva as she got dangerously close to the hot stove putting down the pan again. Once assured she wouldn't somehow burn herself getting her plate of food, Hugh pulled up his own barstool at the counter to take bites at his own sandwhich. He wasn't even sure if he had an appetite, an indescribable gap still burning in his chest. It had been definitely wrong to let his thoughts get so far. He should have never locked himself in his room like that. Free time was deadly to him. It gave you time to think. To dwell. To ask yourself, what went wrong? Why do people flinch at the sight of you?
Hugh already began to bite his sandwhich, the cheese already somewhat cold. The first bite seemed to appease his stomach, the salty flavors reviving his bland tasting mouth and doing some to brighten his glum visage. Liva seemed to be in higher spirits, arranging her sandwhich this way and that while she sat perched on the stoll next to him. He hadn't gotten even into his second bite when Liva suggested a question to him, a broad topic that had lodged bread crumbs in the back of his throat. Hugh choked, coughing to eject the blockage in his windpipe. It was a little too soon for that sort of question. Hugh avoided her eyes, continuing to stare straight ahead with watery eyes from having choked. "Sorry," his deep voice rumbled hoarsely, clearing his throat before resuming his consumption. He knew he had to grow up and brace it, to finish his food as fast as he possibly could and remove himself from Liva's presence right away.
Hugh was quiet, pretending he was dwelling on her invitation to introduce himself to her, since they would be living together for a considerable amount of time anyway. He preferred to keep her oblivious, he preferred to make up as many lies as it took to keep her off his back, from cracking open the can of horrid memories he could never forget. She started up with another list of questions after an inspection of her cooling sandwhich, while Hugh's appetite deteriorated. She asked his age, where he lived, if he was married. Hugh couldn't resist a loud scoffing snort, almost a bitter laugh. Married? As if. As if. Who wanted to marry an orphan, a poor freak who relied on violence for his occupation and had no family, no stability, no money? He'd never had a girlfriend to begin with. He was quite unfamiliar with females, awkward, unappreciated by the whole lot of them.
"I'm twenty three. I live not far from here, and I'm not married. And.... I guess I have," Hugh was blunt with his answers, uninterested, with an edge on his voice. He took another bite, his blue eyes glazed over as he stared directly in front of him. He didn't want to be asked questions about his life, forced to think about the sorry excuse of a lifestyle he had. Liva needed to know absolutely none of it. Before she could pick up and ask anything else with that unavoidable curiosity of hers, Hugh scooted his stool back with an ear piercing screech across the kitchen floor, snatched up jo's empty plate, and made his way to the sink briskly. He wasn't in all that good of a mood anymore. "I'll be upstairs," he grumbled on his exit from the kitchen, "Go to sleep and get some rest." He stalked out of the kitchen with his head hung, swatting away the emotions that threatened to reappear. He needn't be so... sensitive! Why was he all of a sudden so vulnerable to the rush of anger and bitterness, when he used to be able to shut them down? Hugh locked his bedroom door this time, crawling with his sore and exhausted body onto his mattress. Across from him, with the security cameras displayed on the multiple computers on his desk, he could see Liva finishing up the rest of her dinner, alone. Sighing, Hugh turned his back on her, squeezing his eyes shut. He just wanted to be okay.
As Liva tried the sandwich for the first time, she was surprised, to say the least. It wasn’t terrible. It was actually…pretty tasty. And she had made it all by herself, kind of, and that fact only fed her ego. She grinned triumphantly as she continued to cut into her sandwich her knife, carving out little sections for her to eat off the fork. Hugh wasn’t using utensils and at first, Liva assumed that he, like all those other barbaric commoners, had no etiquette. And then, upon realizing that this was a different type of cuisine that she wasn’t used to, Liva also realized that she was probably the one eating it incorrectly. Liva glared at Hugh for a moment, though only because she felt rather foolish, and continued on with her knife and fork for the sake of her pride. “That isn’t an answer…” She edged teasingly when the only word that came out of Hugh’s mouth was the apology for his choking interrupting their conversation. His silence only provoked, making her more and more curious. Why was he so reluctant? Liva didn’t bother to think for a moment that maybe the reason was that his life story wasn’t so pleasant. No, the princess, with her sheltered and privileged childhood, didn’t understand some of the struggles normal people went through. If she did know… Well, she probably wouldn’t have pushed him so hard.“Really?” Liva chirped whenever Hugh complied and answered the first of her questions. If Hugh didn’t live far from here, maybe she could convince him to show her his place. She began to suggest it, but then he answered her follow-up. “You aren’t married?” She hadn’t realized Hugh was as young as he was, with those ageless eyes of his, and had assumed he had a family already. Liva studied him then, realizing that he wasn’t really invested in the conversation. Her teasing little smile began to fall. If he was responding more positively, then she would have asked if he had a girlfriend, would have teased him to no end… Did he have a girlfriend? Liva’s mind began to wonder without her permission. With her notorious reputation, it was kind of a given that she had quite a bit of experience with the opposite sex. With most guys, she could just snap her fingers and get whatever her heart desired. Was Hugh with anyone? Had he had a lot of experience in dating or none at all? She hated to admit, but he wasn’t bad looking. He was actually kind of handsome, if she was being honest… Wait, what was it they were talking about?
Suddenly Hugh was on his feet, putting his plate in the sink and making to leave rather quickly. “O - okay…” Liva muttered, surprise clear across her features. Had she done it again? Liva wasn’t used to people acting like this around her, wasn’t used to feeling guilty and unsure… Why did Hugh hate her so much? What was it she kept doing wrong? Liva grumbled unintelligibly to herself in her native tongue once he was out of earshot. And then she finished her dinner alone…which, unfortunately, wasn’t unusual. At least she wasn’t in the grand dining room at the palace, the only one seated at the long dining table with her only company being the servants who would stop in every few minutes. Liva was so, so used to being alone. Even when she was around other people, she felt isolated. Different. Always different from the rest. With a sigh, she wiped her mouth with a paper towel and placed her plate in the sink as she had watched Hugh do moments earlier. She had been trying, she realized, to bridge the gap between them earlier, to find some common ground and make at least one true friend… But Liva didn’t really know how to go about genuine friendship. She shook those thoughts away, telling herself that they were unimportant. Hugh was just a bodyguard and she had plenty of friends back home.
Once she had reached the top of the stairs, however, Liva couldn‘t stop herself from pausing in front of his door. She reached for the handle, unsure of what she planned to say to him, and realized that he had locked it. Probably do to that embarrassing little incident earlier… “Goodnight.” Liva whispered into the door, though she knew he couldn’t hear her. She let her hand rest on his door for just a moment before she turned away, heading across the hall to her own room. Once she was inside, she rested against the door, her head swirling with thoughts she didn’t understand. And then she remembered. The thought hit her like an oncoming train and immediately took away all thought of Hugh Miles. A little, gleeful laugh escaped her, but she quickly covered her mouth to make sure he didn’t hear. Hugh should be asleep soon and that meant… Liva hurried to her closet, stripping away her clothing as she went. In moments, she was dawning a little silver dress that clung to her form, shoes that added a few inches to her height, jewelry that shone too brightly to be composed of false metals. With her straight blonde hair cascading around her shoulders and her makeup applied with care, she looked like any normal rich, Hollywood heiress going out for a night at a club… A mischievous smile found it’s way to her lips as she reached for her clutch - and inside, for the little receipt scrap where she had written the proper codes. God, she felt like jumping on the bed she was so ecstatic! As quietly as she possibly could, Liva tiptoed outside her room, shutting the door softly behind her and headed downstairs. All it took was a few simple codes into the keypad and she was in the garage. There it was. The sleek SUV that would get her out of here. She thought of the guards at the end of the street, wondering it they were still parked and waiting… But the windows of the SUV were tinted and it was nighttime. Was it possible they would assume she was Hugh? In that case, would they still follow her? Maybe if she created a distraction…. A dastardly idea popped into her head and she hurried to the keypad at the end of the garage. Thankful to her years of messing with the computer systems in the palace, Liva was able to do exactly as she wanted. After punching in a few more numbers, the garage door lifted and in the next instant, the princess was behind the wheel of the SUV, hoping the sounds of the engine wouldn’t give her away as she drove out of the drive and onto the street. Sure enough, there was the other SUV at the end of the street. Even though she couldn’t see beyond the windows, she knew the two men within were watching her car. She continued onwards, hoping they couldn’t see her behind the wheel. And then, just as they made to follow her… An alarm within the house sounded. She knew they would go there, that they would go to where they assumed the threat was… But Liva didn’t wait to make sure. No, she sped off down the highway, laughing as she rolled down the windows and the wind whipped her blonde hair back like a personal banner.
And she was on her way, paying attention to the road signs that she had memorized earlier. It didn’t take long for her to find the club she had spotted that afternoon, with it’s neon sign that read The Crypt. Liva swerved into a parking spot, taking in the long line that extended all across the front of the building. She couldn’t wait that long to get inside… As she stepped outside, making sure to lock the car doors, her walk took on a certain confident swagger, her eyes alight with a sort of fire that belonged in a place like this. She knew these kind of venues like the back of her hand… Which was why Liva walked right up to the bouncer at the front doors, bypassing all the protesting people lined up and waiting for entry. The man crossed his arms over his broad chest, staring down at her. Though he wore glasses, Liva could tell from the way that he cocked his head that he liked what he saw. She flashed him a charming grin, taking in the sight of his pale, spiked hair, his tanned face, the earring that dangled from his left ear… “Hi, I’m Nikki.” She drawled, letting her accent shine through her words. “I’m supposed to meet my friend here. She’s already inside…” Liva let her hand trail down his arm suggestively, smoothly sliding a twenty dollar bill into his hand when she reached it. The bouncer looked away from her, but Liva understood that that meant she was clear to go inside. She gave him one last smile before slipping inside.
And immediately was swept away in it all. The music and the dancing and the drinking and the flirting around… Maybe it was just a distraction, maybe losing herself was just a way to forget that she never knew who she was to begin with, but it was all very overwhelming. After a few drinks, she found herself pulled onto the dance floor, dancing with strangers and watching the lights flash all around her. Eventually, she found herself dancing with an attractive guy around her age who she probably would have gravitated towards even if she wasn’t buzzing with all the alcohol clouding her mind. And the next thing she knew, her back was against a wall and their lips were collided, his hands on her hips. And she felt both everything and nothing at all, making out with a stranger that she would never see again, being surrounded by music and lights and people who probably all felt the same things she did.
It didn't take long for Hugh to close his eyes, defeat and remorse having overwhelmed the majority of his thoughts while he laid in bed. He didn't even care to go brush his teeth, wash his face, or even remove the pistol still tucked in the waistband of his gym shorts. The pillow was relief under his head, his weary eyes recovering behind those heavy eyelids. The uncertainty hurt him, the change, the sudden corruption of his perfect schedules and self control. This princess intruded on his thoughts too often, she said all the wrong things to make his head spin, his stomach burn. He should have never allowed himself this assignment, Hugh thought. She was rich, spoiled, she had no sense of mind, no mind to think for herself. She didn't pick up on what kinds of things had made him upset, she didn't learn from any of her mistakes. Blow after blow, the blonde unintentionally, or intentionally, let those words slide off her tongue, triggering influxes of terrible memories or thoughts. Hugh was strong, he was. He'd always been. Ever since he was a newborn, he had come into this cruel world by himself, raised by brutal older orphan brothers and screeching shelter workers who did nothing but eye him with pity and click their tongues over his constant glumness. He was denied a proper childhood, filled with laughter, siblings, birthday parties, and squabbles at the grocery store over who got to stand on the end of the basket. There was no tooth fairy, no Santa, no Easter bunny. Had he never snuck out to the city and looked around shops himself, he would have never known they even existed. Outside of his world of studies and sleeping with one eye open to make sure nobody hurt him or took his meager belongings at night at the orphanage, there was no room for Hugh's happiness. He didn't know what it was like to be happy, he rarely found occasion to smile. If there ever was an occasion, he'd be too blind, too grim to notice and embrace it.
Now that he was an adult by himself in this great big world, he wasn't sure if he liked it more or less than his teenage years, when he had been able to hide in his room the majority of the time without responsibilities. Now that he had a job, an important one at that, he had to respond to things like uncooperative clients and coworkers, difficult assignments, and more over, pain. With his able, athletic body, and his willingness to sacrifice his efforts and life for the particularly riskier duties of an agent in the city of Los Angeles, he'd experienced physically excrutiating pain. Lots of it. Bullet holes, scrapes, concussions, bruises, cuts, broken bones. Fires, explosions, gunfire, vulgar yelling in his ear, the horrors of brutality and the blunt animalistic characteristics of some of the country's worst. He'd experienced it all. But this, this had to be the first time in his career he'd experienced something like this. Emotional pain. None of his training could have ever prepared him for this.
Why had he been given up? Why wasn't he good enought? Why had he been birthed to two irresponsible twats who had no self respect, no dignity? Alcoholics, drug addicts? And his brother? Is that really what his family was like? Normal adults his age went home to a warm household bustling with family members, the smell of delicious traditional foods cooking in the kitchen, for the holidays. They spent time with their loved ones, went on vacations with them, endured annoying aunts and braved angry, dramtic cousins. Then they all came back, rosy cheeked to work, and bragged about their holidays, reminisced over good memories, told terrific tales of the one uncle that accidentally knocked down the Christmas tree. And they all, all took it for granted. Family. Love. Not one of them, not one, knew what it was like to be cared for by no one. What it was like to sit alone on your couch on New Year's, half expecting the phone to ring with someone's good wishes, or to not know how to wrap a gift because you'd never given or recieved one.
Hugh had fallen fast asleep in his clothes, his leg dangling off the edge of the mattress. His hands had curled around the covers, his eyes tightly squeezed shut only after an hour since he'd closed his bedroom door. His disturbing dark dreams were interrupted by a sharp alarm, a shocking, jarring experience to be woken up to. Initially, Hugh had bolted straight up, his blue eyes flashing around the room wildly for the source of noise. The alarm continued, his heart pummeling his chest with worry and confusion. What was going on? Then, the flashing screens of his computer in the dimly lit room caught his attention. The garage camera had been outlined in red light, blinking in rythm with the alarm. The car. The car was.. gone. Hugh stumbled out of bed, rushing to his desk in disbelief. The rest of the cameras were empty. Liva? Where was Liva! Hugh struggled to turn the alarm off, before staggering down the hallway in fear. Liva's door was shut, and a quick peek inside her bedroom proved that she was absent, her bed covers not even having been flipped back for sleep.
"Liva-!" Hugh roared, hoping desperately that she was hiding somewhere, or had accidentally tripped the alarm. Sure enough, she was gone. Gone! Outside barefooted, Hugh clutched his handgun tightly, looking around helplessly at the empty garage. The cool night air filtered through with the absence of the hulking SUV, and with the alarm system off, all was quiet as Hugh sunk into realization. She had... she had run away. She left, snuck out! Just when he had started to trust her to not do anything stupid! Furious and frustrated, Hugh gave out a disgruntled cry, slamming the keypad to the garage shut and scrambling back to his bedroom for his shoes and his cell phone.
He stomped on his Nikes from earlier without bothering for socks, snatching up his phone to immediately open the handy tracking app the government had taken the liberty to download for him. A small chip the size of a grain of rice had been inserted into Liva's blood stream on her cross over to America, since the CIA had foreseen some kind of event like this happening. Hugh and his slack had resulted in disaster, and back and the offices, the staff was in chaos. The SUV that had been parked down the street had followed Liva for a time, but due to traffic and their haste, the pursuing vehicle had crashed into a stop sign, further hindering their chase. Hugh's boss already phoned the bleary eyed bodyguard to give him an ear full, but Hugh rejected the call. His blue eyes were intent on watching the blinking blue dot speed on the street map, hatred boiling deep inside of him. She had left. Left! Without telling him! Without asking!
Livid, Hugh didn't even bother to lock up the house as he marched outside, armed and furious. With his cell phone in hand he began to jog, seeing as there was no other way of transportation besides hot wiring the old lady neighbor down the street's car and stealing it. And so Hugh ran, ran down the sidewalks as best he could to follow Liva's route of choice. He came upon the city streets once he exited the neighborhood, seeming to anyone like a normal night time jogger. Liva had arrived at her choice destination by the looks of her blue dot on the map having stopped, moving in little circles and halting from time to time. And where was she? At a club. At a bar. She had left the house to go partying, fully disobeying the rules and somehow bypassing the security measures.
In the cold night air, surrounded by all walks of Los Angelean life- the homeless, the drug addicts, the night shift workers, the party goers, the drunks, the shifty crack heads, and the occasional troubled run away teen- Hugh waited fifteen minutes for a wretched bus to come pick him up at the stop, his lungs burning from his sprint from the house. He fretted, constantly swearing under his breath and being particularly nasty to everyone he ran in to. His boss wouldn't stop calling him, and every time, Hugh hung up on that man. He didn't want to hear it. He already knew the entire office would scold him, not Liva, oh no, God forbid not Liva, for allowing her to escape his watchful eye to enter the dangerous voids of the city. Because it was all his fault. It always was.
Sweaty and aching, his ankle throbbing from having tripped and stumbled over a crack in the terrible side walk, Hugh limp jogged into the parking lot of The Crypt nearly an hour after the alarm had set off. Liva was clever, choosing choosing a location across the city, knowing that he would have no way of driving himself over to chase her. He didn't appreciate it, and he was definitely in no mood to negotiate or deal with any harassment from the other agents who had been jealous that Hugh had recieved the job, of all people. Sure enough, Hugh spotted the sleek heavy duty SUV in the large lot, a variety of people mingling nearby the entrance. Loud music pulsed and bright lights flashed, the smell of alcohol and burning drugs filled his nostrils with their putrid scents. Just as Hugh was recovering his breath, eyeing the lot with his keen blue eyes, a lean young man who looked the age of thirty towed a staggering blonde in stilettos and a skin tight dress from the front doors, the girls giggling filling his ears.
Hugh froze, his eyes following the two. The petite blonde girl looked... too familiar. The man kissed her multiple times, support supporting her leaning weight as she teetered and swayed on her unsteady shoes. Hugh slowly began to follow them, his eyebrows knitted tightly over his piercing blue eyes. He didn't like how that sorry sleaze was touching his client, and that was just unacceptable. Realizing what the man's intents were as he brandished a pair of car keys, Liva under his arm, Hugh found himself suddenly extremely bitter and spiteful. Pissed. He began to run, his heart pounding in his ears as the adrenaline surged through his veins. He couldn't think for himself, blinded by rage and slight jealousy, protectiveness seeing the princess be treated the way she was.
"You-!" Hugh roared, his heavy hand clamping around the man's shoulder once he became in arms reach from the two. Shoving Liva aside as a sort of payback for the irritation he felt for her, Hugh grappled the man and threw him backwards against someone's truck. Hard. A few eyes had picked up on the commotion, immediately flocking to the scene where Hugh had wrapped his fingers around the man's collar, pulling an arm back to slam a punch into his nose. A crack was audible, the man squirming and crying out in pain as he fought back in vain, flailing his arms and legs to try and get free. "Help! Help me! Get off me dude! I didn't know she was your girlfriend! Help!" The man screamed, pathetically helpless as Hugh mercilessly plowed on, throwing the man left and right into the asphalt. "You should be ashamed of yourself!" Hugh growled, frothing at the mouth as he agressively wrestled the man on the floor. Someone else had joined in, straddling Hugh's back at the same time and trying to pull him off of his friend. Hoots and whistles were heard, everyone thrilled and on their toes as they eagerly watched the fight unfold. Hugh trying to choke the daylights out of the first guy, and then swatting behind his back at the other pesky addition. It was all laughter and cheering for the crowd, until the unmistakable clatter of a gun skittering across the floor was heard.
The dolt who had been scratching at his back had somehow knocked the gun loose from his waistband, the heavy loaded weapon lying on the ground. It got quiet, a few spectators taking slow steps away. In their frozen state, Hugh took a swing at the smaller man's jaw, the well aimed punch rendering him unconsious. The initial boy who had been making moves on his heavily intoxicated client whimpered and scampered away with his nose held in his hands, the rest of the crowd dispersing quickly as Hugh picked up his gun adn returned it to its rightful place with a scowl. Liva, who had been somewhat nearby, had become captured under his heavy scrutiny. "I've been looking for you, Nikki," Hugh snarled under his breath, grasping her wrist tightly as he yanked her along, away from the scene. It proved to be helpless to try and get her to walk on those pathetic shoes of hers, and after quite some time of extreme irritation, he swept her off her feet bridal style, carrying her briskly towards the SUV for privacy. She was so... grounded. His face was stern, his jaw locked and his eyes cold. Whatever friendliness he'd felt towards her earlier, had vanished. (view spoiler)
Liva staggered alongside the man from the club, allowing him to guide her away from the pulse of the music and into the cool night air. The breeze tickled her cheeks, eliciting a giggle from her that only elevated when the man placed his lips to her neck. She could feel everything, she thought, ever little tiny sensation on her skin. And the colors were so vibrant and the sounds so overwhelming and the rush in her veins so exhilarating. She wasn’t really sure what was happening, where she was going or why she was going there, but she went along without protest, liking the things the stranger whispered in her ear. “Careful, gorgeous. Watch your step there… His chuckle made goose-bumps break out over her skin. “I’ll show you a good time tonight, beautiful. Would you like that?“ And she laughed and he seemed to accept that as an answer to the question that she hadn’t realized he asked. His words sounded all garbled and funny, like they were underwater. In fact, if she focused enough she could see little bubbles in the air surrounding her, beckoning her farther into the darkness of the night that threatened to swallow her whole.“…Hey - “ Suddenly, Liva was being separated from the stranger, shoved back into the light. She blinked, her mind taking too long to process what was going on as she staggered back and fell onto the sidewalk, skinning her knee in the process. A few more blinks as she realized there was a street light right above her, shining down on her form and illuminating the situation. Her brow furrowed and a pout came to her lips. Someone had shoved her. Oh no, that wouldn’t do… “Hugh!” Liva finally realized what was happening, coming to her senses enough to recognize that her bodyguard was there and was hurting that stranger, that beautiful stranger who said such nice, nice things. She scrambled to her feet, moving forward but stumbling in her high heels. People had gathered around the fight and were chanting and Liva was…dizzy. “Stop - stop that! Hugh, what are you… what are you doing?!” She slurred, moving forward in an attempt to stop the fight. She grabbed at Hugh’s arm, his sleeve, trying to pull back, but eventually stumbled back, her reflexes not quick enough at the moment to actually accomplish anything. But there was blood now, she could see it pouring from the stranger’s nose and could feel it sliding down her shin. Blood and bruises and the cracking sounds of bone hitting bone. And all through it, Liva was crying, hot tears spilling down her cheeks as she cried out protestations, trying to make it stop.
When things went quiet…that was when Liva finally managed to break through that layer of nonsense in her brain to fully understand what her bodyguard was here for. Her. She blinked at him, tears still shedding from her terror-filled eyes, terrified over what she had just witnessed. She gasped when Hugh grabbed her wrist, trying to yank away from him but finding that he was far too strong to fight against. “Let me - let me go!” She cried out, the words causing a few of the spectators to glance their way. They probably just assumed it was another promiscuous girl with an abusive boyfriend. And unfortunately, they saw all that stuff far too often to actual care when it happened. Liva stumbled after him unwillingly, until he swept her up into his arms, causing her to yelp in surprise. She struggled against him, not liking being carried. Even when she was completed intoxicated, Liva wanted to be independent. “Put me…put me down…” But unfortunately, she had begun to cry again and no matter how many times she beat against his chest with her small fists, she couldn’t muster enough anger to hurt him. She was overwhelmed with despair and fear and regret. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to go back to the light and grow wings and fly off into the sunset… But instead she was in the passenger’s seat of an SUV, the door closing firmly behind her.
Mascara lines stained her cheeks, making her look even more wretched then she felt. Her eyes were glossy and bright, her cheeks reddened, from the rush of the alcohol coursing through her system. “I don’t want to go back there… I’m not going…” She crossed her arms over her chest, despite the fact that she was already seated in the car. “I’m not sorry, you know…” Her voice was a slur of words, her accent making it even harder to understand unless you paid close attention. Sometimes, she would switch back and forth from English to Danish in her sentences, forgetting about translating things in her useless state. But, nevertheless, words kept pouring out of her. “You didn’t have to…you didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to hurt that guy… He was just - just being nice to me and it’s not like you’re ever nice to me.” She still didn’t understand what that man wanted from her, that he was just taking advantage of her. “And - and I don’t know why you hate me so much and you’re always so mad at me and I don’t know why…” She was still crying, still blubbering like a babe. When she was drunk, she would ride her emotions like roller-coasters, getting stuck on one for awhile and then moving on to the next. Right now, it was a deeply routed despair that she didn’t understand the cause of. “And - and I hurt my knee and it stings and I’m bleeding because of you!” The tears came harder now, as if this little fact was the epitomine of all the sadness in the world.
His temper had done it again, and it really was no surprise that Hugh had blown up at the other man for what he was doing to someone as vulnerable as Liva. That idiot had been lucky, to walk away only with a bloody nose! If he had been discovered by the actual CIA operatives that had been dispatched across the city to go find her, there would have been problems. The guy could have even been taken into jail for what he'd done, as unjust as it was, just because she was the princess of Denmark and any offender in her case would be marked for suspicion. It had given Hugh an odd, sick feeling seeing Liva's eyes so glazed over, her voice unclear as she struggled with her words. Being drunk was something he always tried to avoid, disliking the vulnerability and disadvantage it gave him.He always liked to be in control of himself and his surroundings, of always knowing what was going on. Liva had no possible way of knowing what she had been about to be forced to do, what dangers she could have come across. For all they knew, the guy could have been crazy, a regular who did this to unsuspecting, stupid young women like Liva herself, every night. What if Liva had been hurt, killed? Ditched in the middle of Los Angeles by this freak? Hugh always jumped to conclusions, and sometimes that was enough to fuel his flaring anger. He felt no guilt in hurting the fleeing man and his friend, finding himself feeling justified and pleased. On the other hand, he knew he was going to be in big, big trouble for this. Liva's little selfish adventure would lead to his demise, he could already see it. His boss would fire him so fast, and replace him with someone else. Then, his boss would give him the tiresome, mundane work of shredding paper or monitoring parkinglots as punishment for his slip up, and then how would the bills get paid? They were hardly getting paid even now!
It had irked Hugh to an extent that Liva had even defended the man that he was nearly killing with his brute force, and had it not been for the one on his back trying to pull him off the offender, the guy might have been dead, or seriously injured by now. It was the first time Liva had seen him do anything drastic, and he prayed it would be the last. It had to be the last. Her being drunk and intoxicated would work partly in his favor tonight, for the sake of Liva's memory and her not knowing what had happened that evening, so she wouldn't tell stories on him to get him into even worse trouble. Hugh's pocket vibrated yet again with the phone call from his department, of course from his anal boss regarding the princesses safety.
He had been embarassed by her careless mistakes, and his credibility would no doubt be questioned. First he let her drive earlier in such a reckless fashion, and now, he let her go to a club and get drunk, furthering the danger she was already in? Hugh hadn't anticipated that Liva would fight him on going to the car, causing an even bigger interruption in the parkinglot as he hauled her off. He was thoroughly, completely burning with shame, for no apparent reason. Hugh was hurting her unintentionally, and everyone saw how controlling and demanding he had been with her. He was... mean. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a few of the club goers seemed unhappy, restless as they watched him solely go off towards the SUV with Liva screaming and squirming in his arms. He was the bad guy here, when all he'd been trying to do was... good. To save Liva. To do his job. To put that man in his place, so there were no other victims in the future. And yet...
Hugh strapped Liva in her passenger seat due to her in capability to function or cooperate, the door slamming shut as he stalked off to his side of the car in silence, disregarding her pouting and protesting. He was drained, and if he had been tired before, he was dead now. His whole world seemed to be crumbling down, to the point where her tinny whining almost made him scream at her. He wanted to quit. He wanted out. He couldn't do this, not anymore! It had only been one day, but already he had been mocked, teased, bullied, bossed, sassed, and shamed. Publicly humiliated for his out of control client. Not one thing had gone right today. Not one. Hugh stuck the keys he had found in her purse in the ignition, the vehicle illuminating and humming to life. All he heard as he backed out of the parking spot was Liva complaining, complaining how she wasn't going home, how she wasn't sorry, how he didn't have to hurt the guy, how the guy had been nice, nice to her. And he was the mean one. Like they all said, he was the mean one. The bully, the tall, big bad guy.
She erupted into tears, unintelligible as her disturbing crying filled the car. Hugh tried not to pay heed to it as he turned out of the parkinglot, tires screeching as he sped towards the highway to get home as soon as was possible. No doubt, everyone would be waiting to give him a welcome home surprise when he got there, and he'd be asked to pack his bags and leave. It was nothing new, to be hated, but for some reason, it came alot more personally from Liva. Sure, she was drunk and probably didn't know what she was saying, but it disappointed him. He had thought... he had a chance at friendship. Even a meager one, he thought he had had a chance. A chance to share laughs, to bond over how boring it was being locked inside the house all day. Just to be with someone for once. He had been wrong, idiotic to assume that anyone would want to be his friend. Especially Liva. Especially a rich, spoiled, self centered princess who didn't give a crap about his job, about his pride or his ego. Who had no respect for him.
"Well get over it, Liva. You scraped your knee," Hugh swallowed, his voice shaking, dangerously low. His hands gripped the wheel tightly, his frown darkening. Her words still rung in his ears, and he couldnt help but ask himself if it was true. He was always mean to her...? Was he? Maybe... he was. He was just as bad as everyone said he was. He couldn't even do his job in a professional manner, beating civilians up one at a time! There was a scrape under his eye, and his bottom lip bled weakly. Sweat matted his hair to his forehead, and his own knees and legs had mild bruises and asphalt streaks across them. He'd learned to ignore the pain, but his weak body refused to listen that evening. His legs and elbows felt like they were on fire, and he just wanted to quit, slump and the wheel.
He stared straight ahead of him, Liva's crying continuing to wail throughout the car. He just couldn't take it. "Shut up! Shut up, Liva! Just- just- shut up!" He roared suddenly, slamming his fist down on the wheel with alarming force, the horn blaring at the car in front of him. "It's like every time I try to help you, you crucify me, you hate me! I'm just trying to do my ****ing job-!" Hugh choked, his voice rising and falling with emotion. He was frustrated, using hand motions to express his point as he got worked up about the night, clearly on his last bend. "You're drunk, Liva, and that man isn't your friend. You snuck out, I can't belive-" he continued on, cutting himself off with no way to accurately describe how he was feeling just then. He was slightly sorry he even went through the trouble he had to go find the princess, greeted with such disapproval and unappreciation. "I didn't choose to be your bodyguard and be stuck with you, but here I am, all the way across the city in the middle of the night... and I can't even get a thank you. I never get a thank you... for anything... it's nice to be appreciated sometimes," his voice had trailed off as he talked to himself, whispering under his breath hoarsely as his eyes became narrowed, focused at the road as a stinging warmth flooded behind his eyelids. Now he'd have to take care of this drunk.
Suddenly, everything became breathtakingly, painfully clear. The sound of the horn jarred her thoughts, pulling her to the present and away from the chaotic thoughts buzzing around in her subconscious. Because if there was one thing strong enough to pull her out of such an intoxicated state, it was the sight of Hugh Miles feeling something. Yelling and terrifying her, yes, but still showing some kind of emotion that she hadn’t seen in him before. Liva had trouble concentrating on the words he was saying as she watched the staggering rise and fall of his chest, the crimson traces of anger begin to blotch his cheeks, the white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. Beautiful, passionate, angry, reckless emotion. That same sort of fire that she craved, that she searched for in every single person she met. That she tried to provoke in people. But those people… No one would ever get angry with her like this, let her glimpse inside their soul to see if it was a match for her own. And here Hugh was, the least likely candidate, spilling it all out without realizing it in the heat of the moment. Liva’s brow furrowed as she tried to process all his words, all his emotions that seemed to suffocate her in the tiny space of the SUV. Her head spun faster and faster and faster… And the harshness of his voice made her tears come harder and harder and harder…until they were completely silent and her crying was nothing more than the shaking of her shoulders and the occasional choking sound. Even in her drunken state, she began to feel that gnawing guilt again, just as she had earlier in the kitchens and when she had hesitated outside his bedroom door. Had she been awful to him? Why was he yelling at her like this? It wasn’t her fault that everyone got stuck with her. Liva put her face in her hands, the sobs forcing her whole body into a shaking fit as his voice faded off. “Well, I didn’t ask to be…to be a princess…” She murmured, her words blending together until they were nearly unrecognizable. But they were the truest ones she had ever said, and she didn’t even realize she had said them. All Liva knew was that she was sad, that her makeup was ruined, that her knee hurt, that for some reason Hugh was angry with her and she wanted to fix that…
But that was essentially it. She had never asked to be a princess, never asked to be waited on hand and foot from the day she was born, to be kept separated from the other children as a child, to lose her mother and have a family who cared more about politics than each other, to be constantly in danger of an assassination attempt, to be…so empty feeling. An unsettling silence settled over the car, during which the majority of her cries seemed to pass, leaving her with tear and mascara stained cheeks and reddened eyes. Liva grumbled something in her native tongue, something about how unfair this all was, and then laid her head against the tinted window, straining to see through the dark glass and fix her eyes on the stars above. They seemed to move with how much her head was swimming, like little fireflies dancing through the skies and leaving trails of light in their wake. They were too bright. Everything was too bright and sharp… like glass. And it was all so painfully, tragically beautiful. Maybe everyone was wrong and things looked clearer when you were drunk… Or maybe she was too blitz to know the difference.
As they drove onward into the night, Liva paying absolutely no attention to where they were, she seemed to forget all about that stranger who had woed her at the club and the fight that had ensued, leaving her with a pain in the knee that she couldn’t explain. “It isn’t…” She mumbled, keeping her head on the cool glass. “It isn’t my fault… I don’t mean to be what…what I am… But I am what I am and - and you are what you are. And I think… I think everything would work better if people could just…just accept the things that they are and you are and I am and…” Was she even making sense? Liva let out a weak, sad little giggle but a hiccup broke up the sound. She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them, sitting up straight now, she swayed a bit in her seat, her expression a little more bitter. “You can’t blame me… for wanting to be somewhere where people don’t know what I am… No cameras or news headlines about the wayward princess of Norway…” Her laugh this time sounded much darker. “Maybe…maybe he wasn’t nice. Maybe he was just going to use me… But it’s nice to be used for something other than my title every once in awhile…” She was watching Hugh now, wondering why there seemed to be three of him all at once.
Hugh refused to look at Liva after he gave her a tongue lashing of his own, his tone full of spite and hatred for his own misery. He was blaming Liva unfairly, but he just wished he'd be cut some slack. If only people could like him, if only people would trust him, and earn his trust themselves. He was sick of being let down, of having false hopes of finding even a companionship that could last one assignment period. He yearned for that comfort of having someone to talk to all the time, and not in just a business fashion. Hugh hadn't realized it in the heat of the moment, when he was attacking the other man, but he had been jealous, upset that Liva had chosen to go out and seek others to keep her occupied rather than himself. He had had high expectations to come out of this assignment, he had thought that he and Liva would become friends, acquaintances by the time the assignment period was over.He had believed, he had been given the false inkling, that Liva would accept him for what he was, to be able to look past his odd flaws to become someone he could talk to, someone who would make grilled cheese sandwiches with him. As silly as the thought sounded, Hugh had thought Liva would be his friend, that she wouldn't betray him this badly. And now, with the situation having unfolded how it had, Hugh felt nothing but bitterness, asking himself over and over why he wasn't good enough for anyone, why everyone always wanted someone other than him. Why he could never satisfy anyone. He couldn't make his parents happy, he couldnt make his orphan "brothers" happy, he couldnt make his disgruntled professors happy, and now, his clients. It made sense, he shouldnt have been so offended that Liva wouldn't have wanted to be around him. All he did was yell at her, send her mixed signals, and flare his horrible temper at her. That, and he wasn't interesting, he couldnt talk about his past or about his life without shutting her down. Who wanted to hang out with someone like that?
As they drove on silently in the night, he began to understand why Liva had gone off, figuring that he had deserved it anyway. Had he not scolded Liva for throwing food and being lazy, maybe she wouldn't have hated him so much. Maybe if he just bent to her will, just maybe, she'd talk to him. But then again... who was he trying to fool? The idea was stupid, he didn't need her as a friend. He'd said it himself, she was just his client, he was just her bodyguard. They wouldn't be friends, because that sort of thing didn't happen with him. Hugh's baggy eyes stared at the road ahead of him illuminated by the headlights, his eyes blank and emotionless once he'd calmed down. It was more of a sorrowful bitterness that absorbed him now, that and guilt. He hated being the bad guy that ruined everyone's days. He wondered if it would have really been that bad to have let Liva do what she pleased, and just to have followed them to wherever the guy had had in mind... stepped in if anything life threatening happened. After all, he was her bodyguard, not her parent... so why did he care so much? Why did he get so defensive over her? Why did he cling to that miniscule glimmering thought hope that Liva would want to be his friend?
The girl hiccuped and began to talk again, filling the void of silence in the car with her slurred voice. She began to ramble, but her words somehow stuck to him. It was as if she'd spoken his mind directly, something he wished to just scream at the world, his primary source of frustration since he was young. Hugh's low eyes slowly glanced at Liva, with a slight nod of agreement visible before he returned to the road. If people would just accept him, for what he was born into, for who he'd become... maybe there'd be less hatred in the world. Maybe there would be one less of a depressed, hopeless man in Los Angeles. Liva sat up now, speaking louder despite the fact that her language kept slipping heavy with her accent. The dryness in her tone caught him a little off guard, his ears straining ti listen to her while he watched the traffic in front of him.
She was right, as much as he didn't want to agree or admit to it. Hugh stiffened at the mention of the other man, feeling unsettled at the idea that Liva would let some strange man take her away from safety, away from the watchful eye of her bodyguard, just for a change from her fast paced luxurious life. "Don't run out like that anymore," Hugh mumbled bleakly, off topic to distract himself from saying anything to show his sympathy for Liva. He was supposed to be angry at her. Pissed. For some reason, however, he couldnt summon the energy, nor the reason, to be cross, not at her, anyway. "I don't want to see you get hurt, just because you want to be your own person," he continued carefully, swallowing thickly. Because you're a good person inside, he thought to himself. Of recent months, Liva had been one of the few who had shown the slightest interest in his personal affairs and in him in general, ignoring the fact that he was the only one she had a choice to talk to anyway.
Driving up to their street, Hugh already saw the three government vehicles parked on the driveway and in front of the house, blocking his SUV from entering the garage. The front door was open, and several men with crossed arms and disapproving looks watched as his bright headlights approached. Hugh swore under his breath, dread sinking into the pit of his stomach as he paralleled behind the Norwegian embassy representative and his boss, who were flanked by the two agents who always stalked them down the street and had gotten into that unfortunate car accident. His boss did not look happy. At all. In fact, he was furious. "Miles!" The man barked as soon as Hugh opened his door, the shorter, bushy mustached man apprehending the bodyguard immediately. Hugh avoided the man's eyes, refusing to acknowledge or face the disapproval and the mocking faces of the two agents.
"Miles, I'm talking to you! Where are you-? MILES! Do you have any idea how careless your mistake was? You know, what if she got kidnapped by the assassin group? Ever think about that? Hugh!" While the uniformed man wearing a lanyard with his fancy CIA identity card nipped at Hugh, the bodygaurd had shouldered past the others, opening the passenger seat for Liva. He helped her with her seatbelt, scooping her into his arms again to hide how drunk his client had gotten at the club to the point where she could barely walk straight. "Miles, I'm warning you! Do not walk away from me! I'm removing you from your post! Stop it! Put the princess down!" The chief howled, Hugh's blood pressure steadily rising as he held Liva instinctively closer. They didn't need this right now. He just wanted to get her cleaned up and in bed, so he could get some rest of his own. He'd ran a few miles today and taken buses to get where he needed to be, he'd endured the sharp tongue of a sassy young woman, and now, he couldnt be handling the CIA on the doorstep scolding him for something he wasn't responsible for.
"Get away from me. Come back tomorrow, I'm not having this conversation with you. The princess is safe ," Hugh seethed at last through grit teeth, standing on the doorstep now with the Norwegian representative on the phone speaking his native tongue while eyeing Liva with worry. "She's not safe, Hugh! You let her get out there, exposed! Why is she bleeding? Why are you carrying her? I smell the alcohol on her, you let her get drunk? You know her father don't like that! I told you, Miles, I told you to keep a good eye on her! You can't do anything I ask! What a disappointment! I was wrong to have chosen you for the job. It's babysittin', for cryin' out loud!" Hugh had let Liva down on her own feet inside the front door, an arm steadying her by the waist as she swayed. "I don't babysit. I bodyguard," Hugh snarled nastily, finding himself overly defensive as he slammed the door in his own boss' face, the airtight locks sliding into place. He had not only felt extremely offended at the hateful remarks his boss had said in front of everyone to hear, but the stabs at Liva he had taken.
((Let me know if you want me to change the ending! Just thougjt it would make sense, and now they can go talk and stufff.))
“Don’t…don’t tell me what to do.” Liva grumbled when Hugh forbid her from running out like this again, though her voice held none of it’s former vehemence. She yawned, letting her head loll against the carseat as she watched the street lights blur past, unable to differentiate the lights of the city from the lights of the stars. It took her a few minutes to realize it when the car stopped moving. Actually, Liva didn’t realize they had arrived at her temporary residence until Hugh was suddenly at the passenger door, scooping her into his arms once more. Liva blinked in confusion, smeared mascara making her lashes stick together. There were headlights everywhere and shouting men and accented voices that she just vaguely recognized. Liva was overwhelmed by it all, her head pulsing in response to the flashing lights, and she pressed her face into Hugh’s chest as a way of escaping it, closing her eyes tight and grumbling something about how she was going to have a bad hangover in the morning. But for now, she still felt light as air. Someone was yelling. At Hugh, Liva realized with a start, raising her head just enough to take in the short, official looking man who had to be her bodyguard’s boss. She frowned, her grip on Hugh’s neck tightening slightly, almost protectively. The man persisted, following after Hugh as he carried her past all the people. In Liva’s mind, it looked like there were hundreds of them… Even if there were only a handful of agents and ambassadors scatted across the lawn. They passed a fair-haired man that she recognized from his political trips to her country. He was jabbering on the phone and she barely caught a few of the words. Intoxicated… The agent assigned to her… Bleeding… Describing the situation to someone. Was it her father on the other line? Or just one of the many officials working on this case. She imagined her father’s stern, disapproving eyes, imagined him shaking his head at her as she stumbled into the throne room. Liva giggled without meaning to.
That mustached man continued to screech at Hugh and though Liva’s brain wouldn’t move quickly enough to catch all of his words, she somehow got the gist of it all. Hugh was in trouble because of what she had done… What had she done really? Tried to live her life like any normal beautiful twenty-something? Tried to forgot for just a little while who she was and what her life was like? Tried to feel…alive? What was so wrong with wanting to feel alive for once? Yet, Hugh’s boss made sure to scorn Hugh like a child because of her actions. He set her down on her feet and Liva swayed a bit, grateful for his arm finding her waist, steadying her even though the world was still tilting. She kept her hand on his shoulder, staring at the ground and feeling as though it was caving in beneath her. “I don’t…I don’t need a babysitter.” She mumbled, though her words barely made sense with how slurred together they were. Fortunately, Hugh seemed able to defend himself just fine. “I don’t babysit. I bodyguard.” She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t impressed. As Hugh slammed the door shut, she gave her own little message, lifting one finger to the air lazily to show the men outside just how she felt. If this location wasn’t secret, if her identity wasn’t kept under lock and key, there would be paparazzi outside right now and a thousand cameras would have flashed at the gesture, immortalizing her less than desirable state in every single newspaper, magazine, and tabloid.
“Hugh…” Liva groaned once the door was closed and they were separated from the men in suits that loitered on the lawn. She was still leaning heavily against him, unable to stand up straight for a long period of time without support. “My dress is ripped and my knee hurts.” She whined, the slight sting of her scraped knee feeling very, very painful in her deteriorated mental state. Was she being burned alive? “Fix it…” She demanded groggily. And then a second later, she was letting out a little giggle, reaching up to caress his cheek… Though it was kind of a half-caress, half-slap gesture, seeing as she didn’t really have a good concept of where his face was or how to move her muscles correctly. “Are you going to put me to bed?” She purred with all the efficiency of a drunk woman. And then Liva giggled again and slipped away from Hugh, starting down the hallway, bumping into things left and right. “Where…where’s my room? It - it was right here, wasn’t it?” Liva frowned as she yanked open the door to a towel closet, thinking that there had once been a pink and white bedroom within it. This wasn’t at all acceptable, not when she needed to change into pajamas. “Hugh, fix it.” She repeated, looking back to him and frowning, swaying on her feet a bit.
Goallssss hahhaa xD replying soon how late areyou up
xD I'm not really sure. Probably another hour, at least...
Hugh had been slightly possessive of Liva outside, holding her in his arms without any sign of caving into the harsh words of his judgemental boss. That fat, short toad didn't even know the half of it, thought Hugh bitterly, and he had the audacity to blame him! He'd saved Liva, he'd been able to recuperate and trace the princess down before anything could have happened. Had the CIA have provided him a second back up car, maybe things would have been alot easier. It seemed that whatever Hugh did wasn't enough for anyone. Whatever the dirty street rat did was unacceptable, it was never up to par with his bosses. His coworkers knew that too, and used his multiple "blunders" to prove their point. Despite the fact that his boss had told Liva that he was one of their best men, he never seemed to stop criticizing the lanky, stern, blue - eyed Miles. Perhaps he had been particularly firm on the fact that he would still maintain his position as Liva's bodyguard, because he secretly craved the friendship that he saw flickering on and off throughout the day, because of the fact that she was the only female who'd ever give him the time of day to play ping pong or make grilled cheese with. Perhaps it was because he needed to get his bills paid with this occupation, or because he appreciated the fact that living here was luxurious and completely free of charge. Or, perhaps, perhaps it was because he just wanted to prove to his boss that he could do a good job, to hold Liva under his care responsibly, to silence the jealous agents for once. While it was the intial reason, Hugh kept repeating to himself that it was the latter two, preventing himself from acknowledging any emotional attachment to Liva in just this short time period. Odd, how only hours ago, he had strongly considered quitting on the princess.
The force of Hugh slamming the door had rattled the walls, his chest heaving heavily from his outburst. His neck and ears were slightly blotchy from the anger that bristled within him, and he realized only after several moments that he'd tightened his grip around Liva's waist. Outside, he could hear his boss screeching through the bulletproof door that he only had one more chance, and that the place would be more tightly surveillanced. Hugh didn't respond, afraid that he would say something unacceptable and ruin his career, the only thing that he had going for him. Liva lifted her arm unsteadily and gave the heavily guarded door the middle finger. He couldn't resist a dry and bitter snort, feeling a sort of cameraderie with the princess, something he had never expected. He was just glad that for once, someone, intoxicated or not, was on his side.
Liva, in her weakened state, still relied on him to move. Her knees buckled if he even let up on holding her, to which Hugh sighed heavily. Tonight was already much too long, but in a way, he was incredibly satisfied. "Let me help," Hugh knelt slowly, placing Liva's hands on his shoulders so she wouldn't keel over while he removed those deadly high heels. It was a wonder how she hadn't snapped her ankle yet, it was beyond Hugh how women did things like walk in stilettos longer than their fingers. With gentle hands, Hugh slipped the heels off Liva's feet, catching her as she swayed forward from being off balance. A quick inspection proved that Liva's legs were scratched, one knee bleeding considerably. Her dress was wrinkled and ripped in some places, and her hair was a tangled mess with makeup smeared across her cheeks and eyelids. Liva was an incredible mess.
"I understand, maybe if you didn't sneak out tonight this wouldn't have happened," came his parent - like reply, returning to his full height. His arm resumed to slide around Liva's lower back, his other hand lifting her own arm to wrap around his for the sake of it. However, the princess seemed to have a mind of her own. Strange giggling ensued, and her limp hand stroked his cheek, catching Hugh off guard. He froze, giving her a bewildered look as she laughed. She then peeled off of him, off on her own as she began to sing in her native tongue with slurred syllables and incomplete words. It left him gawking by the front door, his blue eyes wide with astonishment. He wasn't sure how he liked this drunk Liva, but she sure was nicer than the sober one.
"M-Miss Nordskov!" Hugh stammered, startling himself back to reality as he jogged after the girl. She'd careened into walls and closets, mumbling unintelligible garble. Just as Hugh reached her, she opened a floor to ceiling towel closet, shelved adequately with brand new bath towels, dish towels, and small rug mats for their disposal. "No, hey-" Hugh grasped the edge of the door, closing it again from the view of the confused blonde. She told him to "fix it" again, pouting with a demanding look he couldnt exactly take so seriously in her current condition. "How much did you drink?" Hugh complained under his breath, picking Liva up in the same manner for the third time that evening. It was time for this princess to go to bed, and he wasn't letting her stray anymore. Before she lost her mind and got distracted, Hugh was determined to have Liva change and have her face washed, then under the covers. He knew it was wise to provide plenty of trash bags for her vomit, some cold bottles of water, and plenty of migraine medicine for the next morning.
Upstairs, Hugh sat Liva on the toilet seat in her bathroom, turning in circles and peeking in cabinets for smaller washcloth sized towels. He managed to locate hand towels meant to replace the one hanging on the ring attatched to the wall. It amazed him how many different sized towels the wealthy possessed. This he ran under warm water and rung out tightly, before turning to Liva. His arm and his dark shirt were already stained ample with Liva's makeup and her tears, as well as dirt, sweat, and blood. Kneeling with exhaust beside the princess on one knee, he narrowed his eyes at her, before taking her face in his hands. "Sit still," he commanded, proceeding to remove the racoon circles from her bloodshot blue eyes that were clouded from the use of alcohol. "How are you feeling?" He asked in the silence, removing matted hair from her forehead.
“Maybe if…if you didn’t come after me this wouldn’t have happened…“ Liva cocked her head to the side, watching Hugh as he removed her heels. She began to sway without realizing it, but her eyes never left him. A confused frown stretched her lips. My, wasn’t Hugh being…oddly attentive? Her expression turned to a lazy grin. If she could form a coherent thought, she would have said something. A few sounds escaped her lips, but they didn’t make much sense. Fortunately, it was much easier to move without the hindrance of her stilettos. If it wasn’t for the fact that there were three of everything, she would have no problem walking in a straight line now. But in the next instant Hugh was scooping her into his arms again, despite her protests, and whisking her away to who knows where. Every room and hall seemed to blend together, but Hugh’s hold on her felt nice. An anchor in a troubled sea. Even though she initially tried to escape his grasp, she eventually gave up her fight and relaxed into him, her head lolling against his chest. Her body was probably no more than dead weight in his arms now.She only realized they had passed the threshold into her room because of the significant change in temperature. Liva liked for her room to be very cool… In other words, it was always freezing where she slept. The CIA, just as they had known about her partying habits and food preferences, also knew that the cold reminded her of home and she couldn’t sleep if the thermometer didn’t read somewhere in the sixties in degrees. Unfortunately, Liva also slept with most of her skin covered, unlike it was now. She shivered as they moved into her bathroom and Hugh sat her down gently on the lid of the toilet seat. Liva blinked several times, her eyes refocusing in the new light. “Hugh….” She drawled, her accent thick without her having the conscious thought to restrain it. “Those…those things that you - you put on cuts… You know, those sticky things… I need - I need one of those….” What was the word she was looking for? Liva knew it was right on the tip of her tongue. Her brow furrowed in deep concentration. “Bandaid!” She gasped out, delighted that she was able to think of the correct answer, like a little kid trying to impress their grade school teacher with their vast well of knowledge.
Before she had much time to react, Hugh was suddenly there again, kneeling before her like he had in the foyer. He had something in his hand… Something gray with little blue polka-dots. His hands felt cool on her face as he held her, but there was a strange, indescribable warmth there to. Liva leaned into his touch without realizing it, as she had done when he carried her up the stairs. Maybe it was just because she was drunk and lonely and homesick, but Liva needed to be close to someone. In her current state, it was too much to accept that she may have some sort of connection with her bodyguard, some deeper understanding of one another that hadn’t been their before. They were kind of the same though, weren’t they? Two trapped souls looking for an escape from themselves… Liva’s eyes fluttered closed as he began scrubbing away the mascara stains from her cheeks. She didn’t open her eyes when he asked how she was feeling, but rather smiled lazily, lifting up one hand to give him an okay gesture. “Fan-f*cking-tastic.” She mumbled.
She may have actually dozed off for a second there as he cleaned her face of all reminders of her wild night out. It was a few minutes before she was able to focus on the man in front of her again. “In the car…” She slurred, blinking repeatedly. “You…said stuff.” How descriptive she was… Liva reached forward, stroking his face languidly with one hand. She pushed her bottom lip out in a mock-pout. “You don’t feel appreciated, do you? Does…does your girlfriend not pay enough attention to you?” She giggled for the millionth time. For some reason, everything was funny when you had enough alcohol in your system. Liva continued to touch his face, loneliness and bitterness building inside her, a cheery, lazy exterior concealing them deep within her. She thought of that man, of the way he had called her beautiful and kissed her on the dance floor in The Crypt and kept shoving drinks in her hand. It had seemed like a good idea, just like this seemed like a good idea now. “Hugh.” Liva whined his name like a child complaining to their mother. “You’re not being any fun… Silly, silly, Hugh….” Liva attempted to rise to her feet, only to sway and flop back down on the toilet seat again. When the world stopped spinning, she stood again, strolling sloppily towards the shower. “I feel dirty.” She complained. She tried to rid herself of the dress, but couldn’t do anything more than wriggle out of one sleeve thanks to her limited motor skills. She reached for the faucet, turning it the wrong way in an attempt to start the shower.
Drunk Liva is too fun to write. xD Um... whatever you want to do. She'll probably end up vomiting and passing out soon anyway...
Lol, poor innocent little Hugh. xD
Hugh grimaced at the dark gray streaks that transferred themselves on to the washcloth when he pulled his hand away, Liva's makeup effectively being removed completely. He'd already gotten a considerable amount of her makeup on his shirt from when she had cried and fought him in the parkinglot, and his neat habits refused to allow the blonde to go to bed with such a mess on her face. For the most part, she obliged, allowing him to do his brief work without any problems. Drunk Liva suited him just fine, with the way she simply swayed and hiccuped with a blank stare in her vacant blue eyes. Within minutes, Hugh had succeeded in rendering her face bare, nothing but bags under her eyelids and a faint trace of eyeliner he was unable to remove in fear of hurting her. "You're going to have a painful hangover tomorrow morning, you know that?" He pointed out with a raised eyebrow, examining her pink face that he'd rubbed raw with the soiled wash cloth. Now, he peered down at her knees, clucking his tongue under his breath and exaggerating sighs. With another washcloth, he began to very lightly dab off the crimson trails from her legs, narrowing down to the initial wound at her kneecap where skin peeled and burned. Folding the washcloth so a clean side was on the bottom, Hugh pressed the square on Liva's wound, soaking the blood into the wet fabric. Now that he had ceased to bother her face, Liva had opened her eyes- and her mouth, to bring up whatever happened to cross her drunken mind. Hugh's eyes narrowed at the washcloth when she brought up the fact that he'd said "stuff" in the car, slightly worried about what stuff she was referring to, exactly. He'd said a mighty lot in the car, having not expected Liva in her state to remember any of it, or to pay it any heed. Also, in the heat of the moment, he hadn't been so cautious with what he leaked, but he'd taken advantage of the fact that Liva was intoxicated to vent his feelings to a living person for once. "Mm?" Hugh lifted his chin, startled as her cold fingers brushed against his cheeks again.
He removed her hand from his face with a nudge, proceeding to rinse out the washcloth, before kneeling in front of her again to finish his work. Liva did it again, lightly stroking his clean shaven jaw with her unsteady hands. That jaw clenched, tightly, as the next few words tumbled with ease from the princess ' s accented lips, followed by an airy giggle. He wished that was the scenario. Oh, he wished. "I don't have a girlfriend, Miss Nordskov," Hugh cleared his throat, trying to pretend he hadn't been distracted. He jerked his face away from her touchy hands once again, but to no avail. Hugh just gave up trying to prevent Liva from reaching out to him, a scowl on his grouchy, tired expression. "Yes? What now?" He answered huffily, awaiting to hear what now plagued Liva's discomforts.
"I apologize," he grumbled under his breath sarcastically, his tone dry as he rose to his feet again. The wash cloth was rinsed out and wrung tightly, then draped over one of the many towel rack bars. Meanwhile, Liva had attempted to wriggle out of her dress, simultaneously reaching out over the tub for the faucet as she teetered on unsound feet. His heart stuttered as Liva removed a sleeve, his mind recoiling on autopilot. "No! You can shower tomorrow, when you're not... drunk," Hugh insisted, taking her by the shoulder and tugging her away from the empty tub. There was no way he could supervise the drunk girl for a bath, that was just... unacceptable. It was against the code that he was bound by, and he just simply couldn't let it happen. Anything involving females and bathrooms made him uncomfortable. "This way," he corrected her, tugging her this way and that, again having to steer her away from careening into the corner of the door to bust her face.
Inside her bedroom, the cool air temperatures did wonders to relieve his embarassed, flushed cheeks. He closed the bathroom door securely to prevent Liva from going back in, taking quick steps to divert her attention from the open bedroom door leaking light from the hallway. "Pajamas? Wonderful. Get dressed, get into bed, I'll see you in the morning!" Hugh then clapped his hands, eager to simply escape the room and anymore awkward situations. He'd already done more than his share of being a bodyguard, he thought, and he jsut wanted to get to sleep. Or at least, to his room where he was safe from her. No more questions, no more whining, just him and his peace and quiet. On principle, he didn't sleep for too long at night, often only receiving 6 hours at a time. He couldn't sleep, it just didn't happen, unless he had days like today or physical restraint had beaten him weary. Sleeping in was unheard of. He knew that once he put Liva to bed, locked her in her room for the evening, he would hole himself up in his room, try to figure out the security systems complex. He had not much knowledge of how to take care of drunkards, since he'd never had to do it before. The few, seldom times he'd allowed himself to succumb to alcohol, he'd been alone, and he'd taken care of himself in his own way. Surely Liva could manage the same, right?
Liva seemed to wake from some sort of dream when she felt the rag brush her leg. Though her eyes still had that glassy, spacey quality, she seemed able to focus on Hugh for the moment. Fortunately, she was drunk enough that she didn’t feel the cloth as he dabbed at her miniscule injury. Whatever pain she felt was only psychological. “Oh, really?” She slurred suggestively, smirking down at Hugh as she learned about his current relationship status. “No wife, no girlfriend… Boyfriend?” She blinked, pouting as she considered this new option. It was much, much harder for Liva to manipulate men who couldn’t be swayed by her feminine wiles. Liva reached forward again, tousling his dark hair and letting her fingers search it’s texture. “Poor lille skat… Do you need me to keep you company?” There was a screaming in the back of her mind, as if some part of her was trying to break through all the cloudiness to make her see a fact that was staring her in the face. Lonely…. Both so lonely… Was Hugh just as lonely as she was? Did he feel that same emptiness in his soul? Unfortunately, as soon as Liva stood those thoughts were lost, her mind jumping on new thought trains with every breath. “Hugh…” Liva whined once more, trying to tug her arm out of her bodyguard’s grasp to no avail. “Why can’t I take a shower? I have… I have a meeting soon and papa gets all angry when I’m…when I’m late.” Of course there was no meeting and she barely had any concept of what was happening currently. She gave a deep yawn as Hugh led her away from the bathroom and into her bedroom. The sight of the semi-familiar room seemed to calm her, though, and she couldn’t help but feel a sudden exhaustion fall upon her when she gazed at the bed with it’s flowery, pink and white bedding. Maybe when she closed her eyes, she could pretend she was s somewhere else. Like back in that club, letting music and alcohol and lights take control of her mind. Or she could pretend she had went to spend the night with a stranger who turned out to be prince charming. Or maybe, if she was feeling sappy enough, she would just think of home. Of the gardens she had strolled through as a child and the tower she called her own. Of days spent with her brother hiding in the cupboards and putting on puppet shows for the mice. She could think of his father, of that rare little twinkle he got in his eyes when she did something right. That very, very rare twinkle. And of course, she wouldn’t dare to think of her mother. Not while she was drunk and her emotions were on a rollercoaster anyway.
Why was Hugh talking so fast? Liva had trouble comprehending it all, and it took her a few moments after he had finished speaking to register what was going on. “Pa-ja=mas…” She broke the word down into syllables, tasting the word in her mouth. She giggled. “That’s a - a funny word. Pa…ja…mas Isn’t that…isn’t that a funny word?” Another loud giggle. Liva suddenly fell against Hugh, smiling up at him lazily. “Hugh…help me.” She pleaded, pouted up at him as she touched his face again. Her breath tickled his face, smelling heavily of alcohol, as she let her most of her weight fall upon him. Her body was begging her to sleep, but her mind was a chaotic whirlwind of thoughts. And the most prominent thought at the moment? That she didn’t want Hugh to leave. Which led to her clinging to him like she was. In her current state, she could only focus on the present. The idea of getting sleep and waking up in the morning and seeing him then… Well, barely even considered it. There was no tomorrow. There was only this giddy, sleepy, bitter moment in time…
If Hugh escaped to his room and she was left to her own devices, it probably wouldn’t turn out well. There were all kinds of breakable objects and sharp things… and Liva, with that clever little brain of hers, would always find a way to get into trouble. Even if she was crazy intoxicated, she was still very, very mischievous. The only difference was that when she was drunk, she was more reckless, and she was already reckless enough when she was sober. Besides, it wasn’t like Liva could actually put pajamas on by herself now. The awkward, incorrect position of her sleeve was still evidence of her earlier failure at trying to remove her dress. How was she supposed to remove it and put on something new? Really, Liva couldn’t care less if she changed. She just wanted to…to go curl up with that pillow and…and sleep and…. And sleep and…. Liva’s head lolled as she collapsed forward into Hugh, her brain shutting down as she passed out unconscious.
Hugh had scowled an awful lot at what Liva had suggested, prodding him further and further along that dangerous, emotionally bothersome path as she pressed him for answers. "No," he had barked gruffly, defensive. He wasn't all that interested in finding a female companion, let alone, a male. The idea was inconceivable! It wasn't as if Hugh really wanted to be alone all the time, discarded and left behind to be Hugh. Sad, lonely, orphan Hugh, street rat Hugh, Hugh who hardly had a couple thousand in his savings account. He simply wasn't chosen. Ever. He had flinched visibly as Liva ran her fingers through his hair, fallen out of form from how he'd brushed it with his hands only hours earlier, before they'd gone on that particular car ride before Liva had decided to jump ship. It sent shivers down his spine as he closed his eyes temporarily, her fingers lightly massaging his head.It was an odd sensation, but he found that he liked it. He only allowed it for another half second, while he finished dabbing the remaining blood stains from her leg, before he had stood to remove her hand from his hair. The blonde was helplessly drunk as she slurred her phrases in her native tongue, asking if he needed her to keep him company. Grumbling under his breath came as the only response, his heart unsettled as his eagerness to shrink back into his dark room increased, became a screaming panic in the side of his mind. He was just her bodyguard, all he had to do was get through this evening, put Liva to bed, and he was home free. In the morning, he trusted that Liva would agree to not make any more of the same mistakes, and he'd monitor her more thoroughly to prevent any more accidents. It would have been his careless call to have locked Liva in her room with all her scrapes and her dirty clothes, to do with herself what she will.
It was an unspoken obligation he had as a bodyguard, to step up and assist with her disheveled appearance. He knew his boss expected it, and he knew Liva's father trusted him for that. As cold as Hugh could be, he didn't find himself minding... all that much. It wasn't so bad, to have someone to get frustrated with, to become bitter with, to make grilled cheese with; to be that someone who eased their pains, who cleaned their scrapes and their runny makeup. It wasn't so bad. Of course, Hugh would never admit it to himself, refusing to become attached with a lifestyle he could never have. He didn't even have friends, how did he expect to ever meet a woman who could tolerate him not just for a day, but forever? Until they grew old? You see, it was something his shrunken heart hoped for in vain. It was fruitless to keep wishing.
He'd been wishing for the past twenty years, that someone would care for him. It still hadn't happened, and he was already at least a fifth, or a fourth, through his miserable existence. For now, all he could do was try to shut it all out, the world's idealistic images of friendships and love. It was all garbage, and it certainly didn't happen for everyone. Not for Hugh. Liva began to garble, speaking nonsense as the liquids inside of her continued to disturb her thought processes. Hugh could only sigh and shake his head, deciding it was always the easier alternative to keep his mouth shut when it came to correcting a drunk. Besides, there was no way he was supervising her taking a shower. Ever. Even if she wore a bathing suit, it would make him mighty uncomfortable. Females were simply of another dimension, magnificently strange and peculiar creatures he passed by every day on the streets.
It became quickly clear, crystal clear, that Liva would not be capable of even climbing into her own bed by herself. She began to babble about the word pajamas, flustering Hugh to no avail. He just wanted her to be sober again, her sober, sarcastic self! Liva's new giggling syndrome made him cringe, the high pitched noise causing his migraine to swell and pound in his skull. "I- Liva-" Hugh had begun to stammer, at a loss for how to handle the intoxicated princess. He was sure her BAC level was much too high to be even remotely healthy. His arms instinctively caught Liva as she tumbled into his chest lazily, her blonde hair matted against his makeup soiled shirt. "Can't you just fall asleep already?" Hugh whimpered to himself, finding himself supporting Liva again. She definitely owed him after this. She owed him so bad for what he put up with that day.
As if she'd considered what he'd muttered only moments before, her head felt heavy against his chest, her body limp as she sighed. "Liva? Do you need me to find a change of clothes for you?" Hugh tried, struggling as he hoisted her to her feet, only to have her legs bend when he loosened his grip on her. His keen blue eyes swiveled to find hers, her face pressed against his shirt. Her eyes were shut. Hugh held his breath for several moments, frozen as he held her upright. She was... asleep? Inhaling and exhaling with relief, Hugh lifted Liva over his shoulder, carrying her with one arm to her bed and flipping back the covers. There, the princess was laid down to rest, her head carefully placed on one of the many large pillows. Hugh flopped the covers over Liva's legs, hovering over her sleeping form. Exhaust had carved out her features, bags under her eyes. "Good night," Hugh murmured, allowing the words to roll around on his tongue. It was weird, to have someone to say goodnight to. It was... new. He'd always been alone, never had such an oppurtunity.
Hugh backed away from Liva, the room silent save for her heavy breathing. Downstairs, he managed to locate bottled chilled water in the refrigerator, and he paired this with a few Aspirins and Tylenols in his hand to bring to Liva for the next morning. As he was reentering Liva's dark room, he asked himself why he was doing this. Why he cared about the stupid girls hangover, why he was surrending doses of his own precious medications to her, a spoiled rich little girl who always had what she wanted. Why not make her suffer like he had? Being in pain? Hugh set the pills with the bottle on her nightstand, giving her sleeping form one last look before shutting the door with a gentle click. It was hours before Hugh slept himself, although exhaust ate at him from the inside, dragged down his bones. He proceeded to shower again, change into warm sweats, then seat himself downstairs well into the wee hours of the morning with a cup of warm milk, staring thoughtlessly at the granite countertops. When he actually fell asleep in the large, oversized, plush mattress, it was three in the morning. He had trouble becoming comfortable on a bed that was so soft, so lovely...
((They are going to be sooo cute together xD Is it cool if I go ahead to the morning? ^.^
((Kk! I'll start my reply in just a few. ^.^ ))
Liva’s head throbbed like a heartbeat, but it wasn’t until eleven o’clock that the pounding finally drove her into consciousness. Her heavy eyelids lifted after a few tries and the light spilling in from the windows made her headache worsen. She winced, throwing a hand over her face to block it out. After a few moments of lying there and feeling miserable, she finally found the drive to sit up, even though it hurt like hell and took several tries. Once she was seated upright, Liva rubbed her temples to no avail, trying to think back to what had happened last night. It hurt to think, of course, and all she could seem to remember were little fragments. She remembered music and lights and… a fight? Someone had gotten in a fight… And someone had held her. Liva distinctly remembered a pair of arms holding onto her, pulling her away from it all. Weird, right? Liva let that thought go, seeing as holding onto it hurt far too much. As soon as she pulled herself to her feet, Liva moved to the windows and shut the curtains tight. No more light. Ever again. Groaning and stumbling into things, Liva lumbered into her dressing room. She almost didn’t catch sight of herself in the ceiling-to-floor length mirrors and if it hadn’t been for her flinching away from the overhead lights, she wouldn’t have seen her torn, silver little dress and the red, marred skin of her knee. Liva was startled by her own disheveled appearance, with her tangled hair and paled skin. It looked as though her makeup had been wiped off for the most part, with the exception of a dark marks closer to her eyes. Someone must have done it for her and been afraid of getting too close to her eyes. But Liva still looked like a complete and total wreck. Good thing she had no one here to impress… Which reminded her of where she was and who she was staying here with. This wasn’t her home, she realized, but the CIA hideout and she was stuck here with her bodyguard. With Hugh who -
Had brought her back from the club and had wiped the mascara stains from her cheeks and had tucked her into bed. Liva felt her cheeks warm, but she waved away the thought. No thinking. Thinking led to an even stronger headache and this sort of thinking would result in nothing good. He was her bodyguard. It was his job to take care of her. So, Liva let her ignorance be bliss as she walked farther into the closet. The princess peeled off her ruined dress and tossed it into a corner of the floor carelessly, frowning slightly at the way the fabric seemed to have lost it’s shine. What a shame. She was pretty partial to that dress… But, oh well. She could buy one just like it the second she got home and had access to her credit cards again. For now, Liva simply pulled on some loose workout clothes. Though Liva was never the type to dress down for any occasion, she considered hangover periods to be special circumstance. In her mind, this is what comfortable clothes had been designed for, so she didn’t feel entirely hideous when she wore joggers and a tank-top presently. The clothes felt nice and simple against her skin and maybe if everything didn’t tick her off at the moment, she would have wanted to go for a run.
Careful not to glimpse herself in those mirrors again as she exited, Liva made her way back into her bedroom, tossing her hair up into a ponytail holder and wiping at her face. Every step seemed to resonate through her whole body until it reached her head, where it magnified to excruciating levels. One hand pressed to her temple, Liva trudged out into the hall. She needed coffee. Now. She paused outside Hugh’s room but…continued on. She doubted he was asleep anyway, considering how bright it looked outside. God, she must have slept for ten hours, at the very least. Liva, squinting at every light she passed, descended the staircase and moved through the first floor of the house. Why was everything so freaking bright all of the sudden? Liva wanted to tear out those lights with her bear hands and make the CIA agents who chose this place eat them. She nearly growled as she entered the kitchen, but managed to hold back the worst of her bad temperament. Liva was a giggly drunk, sure, but she was vicious when she had a hangover. Liva slid into one of the bar stools at the counter wordlessly, paying nearly no attention to her surroundings as she tried desperately to calm that insufferable pounding in her mind.
Approx what time is it?? And ill have him walk in and be like sup how was your sleep xD
His sleep, although it had been full of tosses and turns, mumbling, and thrashing at his sheets, had lasted until five in the morning. Initially, Hugh had been confused and disoriented upon awaking, panicking at the unfamiliar surroundings, sweat dampening his shirt and neck. He then fell back asleep for another few hours in that lovely new bed of his, still rather disheveled from the strange series of thoughts he was having. Nothing made sense anymore. Hugh was plenty more well rested as soon as the hour of eight a.m. rolled around, the excrutiatingly bright sunlight pouring through the crack in his curtains. A few birds chirped and chittered back and forth, and in the distance, he could faintly hear someone's lawn care men working the mower and the tree saw. Slight bags still resided under Hugh's exhausted blue eyes, and his cheeks were creased with the imprints of the sheets. He had woken up with a sore shoulder from lying on it the majority of his night (or morning), and to top it all off, he remembered, just exactly where he was. Why he was here. What had happened last night. Hugh's eyes opened a little wider, his body moving under the heavy covers he'd tangled about his legs. He pushed them away from him, almost in a daze as he tried to clear his groggy mind. It was already eight, already throwing off his early rising schedule by two hours. Remembering that Liva had escaped the night prior, he didn't want to take any more chances of suckish supervising. That, and she was hungover. There was bound to be some sort of complications with that. He just hoped she didn't remember any of last night.
After twenty minutes, Hugh had showered, dressed, brushed his teeth, and straightened his room to his liking. The house was still silent. He closed his bedroom door behind him with a click, feeling plenty more sharp minded now that he'd cleaned himself up and erased any signs of the chaos he'd endure the night before. He wore dark, plain clothing as usual, settling for simple dark attire that he felt comfortable in. He knew that gym time was behind schedule for today, that he'd need to babysit Liva's hangover instead of taking a run around the block and pressing iron in the small makeshift gym the agency had added per his request. Already, Hugh knew it would be a rough day. He had to remember that Liva wouldn't be the simole, drunk Liva that she'd been last night, that she'd be back to original, rude, bratty self in no time. He hardly doubted it.
Downstairs, he found that the place was also empty. It was presumed that Liva was still asleep, which gave him time to recollect his thoughts without being distracted. It still flickered in his mind the few sentimental moments he'd shared with her the evening prior, in the car when he'd spilled a little more information about himself than he would have liked. He had liked that feeling of someone caring, someone being curious enough to ask questions. It was stupid of him to hope that some of that still remained in Liva, even if the alcohol in her system drained and made her become something else entirely different from a silly, happy drunk. Now his emotions were more stable after he'd gotten adequate sleep, and now that his strength had returned to his aching body. His shoulder pained him in the slightest, but it was nothing he couldnt handle. He'd been through worse than a sore shoulder from bad sleeping positions.
Hugh helped himself to a sweet and flavorful red apple, his teeth sinking into the juicy flesh hungrily as he sat at the counter. Alone. He preferred it this way, to have time to think and allow for time for his mind to awaken, but at the same time, it was... depressing, when all he had for company was the sound of his chewing. Breakfast had been a bore, him constantly glancing back at the hallway connected to the front room's staircase in hopes to glimpse Liva trudging downstairs in her ruined party dress, grouchy with that infamous pout of hers. But she never came. He wandered the house some, his quiet, slowly measured footsteps echoing in the halls, but found nothing of interest that he hadn't seen yet. He practiced sitting in the various couches, touching all the pillows and shelves, peeking out the windows. Nothing amused him. Here, he felt trapped, anxious, even. He was tempted to knock on Liva's door at some point, at around nine thirty, to force her to wake for the sake of his entertainment.
He busied himself with changing the format of his room, so his bed was facing the door just how he had it at his apartment, and so his nightstand was closer to his bedside. In the drawer was his gun, loaded, just for emergencies. It neared noon, and still, Liva's door had not opened. Hugh situated himself in the living room at last, his laptop perched on his legs as he searched through the Internet for more information about who Liva was, and the background of her home country. He hadn't gotten into more than fifteen minutes of Wikipedia, when a pair of light footsteps was audible on the staircase, sounding mismeasured and uneven. Liva. Hugh still didn't rise from his seat, however, not wanting to alarm the princess by simply appearing out of nowhere. He removed the search tabs from his laptop and opened a weapons enthusiast page, pretending to be engrossed in what was on the screen as Liva dragged herself onto a stool in the kitchen.
"I see you're up early," Hugh commented sarcastically, clearing his throat from where he sat in the living room with a view of Liva's back. She had changed her attire, thankfully, and seemed to be fully functioning by herself. Oh, the relief. He removed his warm computer from his lap, setting it gently on the coffee table, then standing to finally rejoin Liva in the kitchen. The morning had been so unbearably silent after so much action the day before, it had made Hugh restless and incredibly antsy. He didn't know that Liva was in a poor mood that morning, but he did keep in mind that she was hungover. He knew from his few experiences, being hungover made you antisocial, tired, and over sensitive to every sound and sight. "Hungry?" Hugh offered, deciding after a moment to be generous and kind while she recovered, saving the lecture he had spontaneously created in his brilliant mind only seconds before, for later. She she'd fully returned to her normal self, he'd give her an ear full of how stupid her decision was, and how dangerous it had been.
Perhaps Liva would have been startled by Hugh’s voice if this was a normal morning, at first thinking that the sound must be coming from some sort of attacker… But right now, Liva couldn’t care less about being attacked, so the only reaction that came from her was a sharp flinch. God, why was he shouting? Liva leaned forward, her elbows on the counter as she pressed her hands to either side of her skull in an attempt to hold it in one piece. She glanced up as Hugh entered the kitchen, glaring at him. She was in no mood for his sarcasm. But then, a memory flashed in her mind from last night. Him, scooping her up into his arms and carrying her across the lawn, passed people whose faces seemed blurry were too blurry and distorted to make out. Her memory didn’t include sound; no, it was more like the static you here when a radio station won’t come in. The only thing vivid enough to make out clearly was Hugh’s arms. The rest was just….background noise. Liva felt her cheeks heat up and she squirmed in her seat, uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure which would make the uneasiness go away: learning all the details of the previous night or forgetting it had ever existed at all.What had happened last night, though? Liva clearly remembered sneaking out, remembered the sound of the alarm going off as she sped off down the highway and to the limited freedom that a reckless night in a club could offer her. She remembered twirling her hair and flashing the bouncer a twenty, remembered the lights and the song the DJ had been playing when she first slipped inside the crowded space. The rest was a blur of drinking and dancing, her memories nothing but colors bleeding together until they were no longer recognizable individually. Liva knew she had met someone in the club, someone she probably had intended to spend the night with. He had…brown hair? Dark blonde? Purple? To be honest, she couldn’t even remember his name or if he had even told her. Fortunately, instead of waking up in a strangers’ bed or, rather, not waking up at all and being found by police in a ditch somewhere, she had woken up in her big pink room with pale morning sunlight filtering in through her white curtains. Hugh must have dragged her back here then, must have laid her down to sleep.
A flash of crimson in her memory. Blood staining a concrete sidewalk…There had been a fight. But Liva really couldn’t recall much more than that, like who had been involved or what had caused it. The more she tried to bridge the gap of her memory, the harder her headache throbbed. She winced at Hugh’s next question, motioning agitatedly for him to quiet down. Each word he said felt like he was stabbing her in the forehead with one of those sharp kitchen knives. “I just want coffee.” Liva grumbled, squeezing her eyes shut for a brief moment. Once the storm in her mind lost some of it’s edge, she slid away from the kitchen stool and trudged over to the coffee maker and realized… She had no idea how to make instant coffee. Liva stared at the little contraption, keeping one hand pressed to her temple as she tinkered with it, trying to figure it all out. She knew it was a coffee machine but…where did the coffee come out? Was there already coffee in it? What did the buttons do?
Letting out a groan of frustration, Liva exclaimed, “How do you work this stupid thing?!” and then winced at the volume of her own voice. The pain was disorienting for a moment and she had to blink several times for everything to come into focus again. She then whirled on Hugh, crossing her slim arms over her chest. “Do you know how to make coffee?” She demanded, her rudeness a product of her pounding skull and her embarrassment at not remembering the previous night. Because she couldn’t recall their actions last night, she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to act right now. Should she be angry? Had he dragged her out of that club and back to the house kicking and screaming, treating her like some little kid? Or should she be nicer to him now? Had they had some heart-to-heart that she could no longer remember, one that resulted in him tucking her into bed that night? Why was he being so…nice to her now? Sure, he was using sarcasm with her, but he was also…offering to make her food? Joking around? Maybe last night had been really, really weird and Hugh’s body had been stolen by aliens. Liva rubbed at her temples to no avail. “Do you….do you have any headache pills?”
Hugh had clung to the slightest hope that Liva would have been kind to him from that point forward, considering how he'd saved Liva from harm and making a decision she would have regretted. He had clung to the slightest hope that Liva, although she had been drunk, would have remembered his generosity in how he'd taken care of her, defended her. Then, there were the few vulnerable moments of truth he'd blurted in his carelessness, revealing to his client that the fact that he was single upset him, and also the fact that he was never appreciated. In other words, that he was an even bigger loser than Liva could have anticipated without knowing any of his back story. He had seen how Liva had been kind to him last night, although she had been thoroughly intoxicated anyway. He liked that Liva, to some extent. The one who wasn't so stubborn and shut out, one that didn't walk around with such a haughty air of royalty. But of course, that Liva was gone. And with it, the experiences from the scuffle, the drive home, the lawn scene, and him putting her safely in her own warm bed. It also meant that she wouldn't remember that he hadn't been brutal with her as he initially might have had it been during the day when he had more energy to shout, and she wouldn't remember exactly why he was so disappointed with her. Her intial reaction to his tone had been snappy. She scowled, nursing her headache while she sat perched on the kitchen stool by herself. Liva hadn't exactly greeted him the way he wished, but he was disappointed all the time. What difference did it make? In the kitchen, Hugh leaned himself against the counter, the edge of the granite pressing into his abdomen while his folded arms rested on the cool surface, his back lazily hunched as he came face to face with Liva. He examined her, pleased thst there had been no apparent injury he just hadn't caught the night before, and that she was completely unscathed and clean.
His blue eyes watched Liva curiously, her expression having lost that gleeful, stupid look from yesterday, replaced with a bitter, somber one that looked full of hatred and spite. It didn't bother him, his expression unalarmed as Liva demanded the need for coffee, her eyes shut in several moments of glum silence. He'd just opened his mouth to ask if she'd like him to make her a mug, when Liva slipped off her stool and stalked to the shiny, fancy new coffeemaker by the toaster. Hugh straightened himself, propping his back against the granite island now while Liva pushed buttons and smacked the machine. He stifled a snicker by gnawing on his bottom lip, secretly satisfied to see Liva so helpless. He hardly drank coffee, convinced that it was all around terrible for you, but he knew how to operate a simple machine!
In resignation Liva howled, aggravated towards an innocent kitchen appliance that had faced her wrath. She turned on him then, wiping the smirk off his face in an instant. "Of course I do," Hugh answered matter-of-factly. "Would you like me to make you a cup?" He suggested, emphasizing for her benefit. The caffeine would go straight to her head he knew, but he wasn't going to argue with her on what she wanted to do. It was just easier to agree with a female, he knew, rather than fight her on what it was that she wanted. Particularly, Liva. Her tone had been sharp with him, even though he'd done nothing to offend her that morning. It was just the beginning of her foul mood, he reminded himself, a little troubled at what the day ahead held for them. Thank goodness the morning was nearly over.
Although Hugh was certain he didn't deserve to be ordered around like some scullery maid, especially after his first day with Liva, he didn't say anything about it, nor did he try to justify why he was being treated poorly. It was just the way it went, he supoosed. Even with Liva. Liva, who he'd nearly shared friend moments with. Nearly. She didn't care about him, she had jsut had too much alcohol in her system. Now that she was more awake, and sane, surely she wouldn't even think about offering to keep him company like she had while he had been wiping her blotchy, makeup smeared face. It was nothing new, anyway. He did things like put down enemies, stay in late at the agency to do extra work, or hold doors open for people. But again, like he'd inferred the night previous, he wasn't appreciated often, if ever. He was just the servant, the puppet, the robot that complied to do whatever he was told to.
Hugh stepped up beside Liva to the coffee maker, examining it thoroughly for the first time to get a handle on how it operated. First, he started with plugging in the actual machine in an outlet directly behind it. Then, he removed a container with a press of a release button, filling it with water at the refrigerator. This he inserted back into the machine, tapping a few buttons before the coffee machine finally decided to begin brewing Liva's coffee. It had already been filled with the coffee grounds and it's flavoring, so it really was quite simple. "Give it a few minutes," he suggested while the machine warmed up, almost immediately filling the house with the aromatic warm scent. He located a plain white coffee mug, sticking it under the spout where it would be filled to Liva's desire later on.
"Headache pills? I left some on your dresser," Hugh replied simply, tucking his head inside the fridge to take a peek at what could be for lunch. There was silence, and Hugh retreated from the fridge to find Liva staring at him. "Fine," Hugh mumbled, shutting the large refrigerator firmly and going off to retrieve those special pills he'd left her upstairs. He figured the sooner she recovered, the better. It was only a few minutes after Liva's reappearance, and he had no idea what to expect. Had she remembered anything, anything at all? Hugh returned to the kitchen just as soon as he'd left, the over the counter drug bottles in his large hand. "How's your stomach feeling? What about your leg, and your hands? I forgot to take care of that last night..." Hugh fussed, brandishing portions of medication for Liva to take. He didn't normally care what happened to people, but for Liva, he had to. He'd pushed her down yesterday, and in the process, the girl had scraped her hands and knees. If his boss found out, he wasn't so sure he'd have a job anymore. He placed two small pills in her palm, gesturing for her to get herself some water to down it with. The coffee bubbled in its machine, steam faintly visible around it.
((Are you responding to this today? Just want to know, trying to get as much rp in before my season starts plus im bored))
((Actually writing my reply right now. ^.^ ))
He was watching her. Liva could only hold his stare for so long, but she could feel his eyes burning a hole straight through to her soul. Studying her, waiting for something. The princess shifted uncomfortably on her stool, unsure how she liked this attention. If only she could bridge that giant gap in her memory. Within it might lie the answers to why Hugh was acting…different. Maybe if she wasn’t in her current, moody and hungover state, she wouldn’t care so much. In fact, in any other scenario, Liva would have been teasing him and provoking him and…being genuinely happy that he seemed a little less closed off. But now it just felt weird, seeing as she didn’t know what caused it. Did he even realize that he was being more open with her then he had been yesterday? His eyes lacked some of their former animosity. His scowl was softer in a way. The atmosphere between them didn’t feel like a charged electric field. It didn’t feel dangerous and explosive. It felt…almost friendly? “No, not at all.” She snapped when Hugh asked if she wanted him to make her a cup of coffee. The sharpness of her own tone made her head ache, but she couldn’t put up with sarcasm right now. Her temper was on a very short leash and would run wild the second someone looked at her wrong. And the fact that Hugh was finding some cheap amusement out of her suffering was ticking her off big time. Of course, it wasn’t a big deal. Anyone would laugh at a spoiled, hungover princess failing to use a simple coffee machine. But in Liva’s mind right now, it seemed like a lot bigger of an issue. Everything made her angry and everything caused her headache to worsen. She groaned as a sharp pain pierced through her forehead, her eyes squinting closed as if that could block out all the ache. Hopefully she would be better later, once the worst of it had worn off and she was able to function like a normal human being… Well, like a normal Norwegian princess.
Whether for better or for worse, Liva felt a twinge of guilt strike her heart as she watched Hugh prepare the coffee machine. She frowned, her eyes a little bitter as she watched him. As he filled a little thing with water and then pressed buttons with such fluidity she wondered if he had been a barista in some past life. How did people do stuff like this every day? Liva, of course, couldn’t help but feel a little envious that he had all this knowledge that she didn’t. She was going to one of the most prestigious colleges in Europe, for Christ’s sake! And even though she didn’t like to claim she was smart, she had always been assured by the fact that she was more intelligent than most of the people she conversed with. It was her cleverness that kept her out of trouble, that got her through meetings and political galas, that helped her to bend people to her will. But here… She didn’t feel clever. She felt almost normal. And while that was terrifyingly appealing, it was also terrifyingly different and foreign and…strange. She felt vulnerable here, like a child learning to do things for the first time, forced to rely on Hugh as her guide through this new world.
“My dresser…” Liva echoed dumbly. She hadn’t even spared her dresser a glance as she was leaving her room, far too focused on her disheveled appearance and the prospect of caffeine. Did he expect her to go back to her room? Um, no. Liva stared at him incredulously, waiting for him to cave in. Eventually, he did, turning away to retrieve her the pills. Why would he just leave them in there and expect her to get them? He could have, like, left a note or something. Ugh… Liva grumbled to herself about how insufferable people were and how it was way too early for this nonsense. As she waited for Hugh to return, she kept her eyes on the coffee maker as thin steam began to cloud it. When he finally came back to the kitchen, his voice startled her. She had been pretty entranced with the grinding sounds of the machine, with the whistling of steam… She was sure she could have fallen asleep right there if it wasn’t for Hugh’s return. She blinked, focusing on her bodyguard’s form.
He was fussing over her? Liva blinked again, not quite sure if she was hearing him right. It was normal for him to pretend he was concerned about her health, considering he had to make sure she was healthy and safe per her father’s and the agency’s orders. But he sounded genuinely concerned, his voice pitched with worry. “Uh, thank you…“ She murmured, reaching for one of the pills he laid out and then going on a search for a bottle of water in the fridge. After she found on and used it to wash down the medicine, Liva watched him, one hand rubbing at her temple as she studied him. “I - I’m fine…” Her voice didn’t sound as snappy now, even though she did want to take out her anger on someone. A sigh escaped her. “I mean, I feel like I’m going to throw up and my head’s going to explode, but other than that… Fine.” At the mention of her leg and hands, Liva frowned in confusion. She glanced down at her palms, finding that the skin was reddened and scratched and tender. As if she had skinned them on concrete. “You pushed me.” She said suddenly, glancing up at him in surprise as she recalled the incident. “You pushed me and someone…” She winced as the attempt to think caused her even more pain. “Oh, God, what happened?” Liva sat back down in one of the stools, putting her face in her hands. There was a long pause as she waited for a wave of nausea to pass over her. And then, she quietly added, “We didn’t….do anything?”
With every sour glance Liva returned to Hugh, the less he had hope for himself and the future of this career. He gave up, in essence, dragging his feet in his movement in somewhat of disappointment that Liva hadn't remembered anything. Or maybe, she had, and hadn't thought that what he had done for her or said to her made any difference. After all, she was a princess, royalty, sorry cases like him never mattered. You only ever mattered if you were drop dead handsome, to which he compared himself to being an eyesore, or you were of great importance. Status. Wealth. Hugh was just the bodyguard. Funny, how that worked, that although she was his client, she was the boss in more ways than one. It became tiring after a while to constantly be the one at the bottom rung, but he supposed that this was his life calling.Somebody had to be the underdog, so someone else could be the top dog. He just... had a hard time believing it. He had thought... he had thought he'd seen a glimmer of sympathy from Liva, something that had shown she was concerned, that she cared... but that had just been the alcohol talking. He was an idiot to have gotten his hopes so high. Instead of being angry or moody about his current dilemma, Hugh was rather disappointed, hesitant, waiting in anticipation. Nothing sparked her memory, and it seemed that nothing would. Hugh folded his arms back across his chest, concealing the bruise on his knuckles and the scrape on his wrists he had thought Liva would recognize. He was back to silently suffering, his emotions caged within his miserable self. Why had he revealed so much to her the night before, drunk or not? It brought so much complication and anxiety, not knowing how much his client knew about him, how much of what he had said had retained in her alcohol fogged brain.
She had returned his slow offer, a generous one, with a cold tone, her rough words harsh to his ears. Hugh tightened his jaw, resisting exaggerating an irate sigh to warn her to watch herself. He ended up making her coffee anyway, then running to go get her pills like some errand boy. Why did he do it? Why did he stick around and cling so much, instead of forcing her to fend for herself? It was out of character for him, and Hugh knew it. He was uncomfortable being around another human being for such around long period of time, it didn't sit well with his conscience. He had to be alone. That was always how it had been... he didn't want this to change. Or, that's what he brainwashed himself to think at the moment. Liva muttered gratitude when he returned with her medicine, and he only grunted in reply as he dropped onto a bar stool.
He rubbed his eyes, watching the coffee maker steam and boil, the aromatic coffee smells already dispersed throughout the mansion. "Good," he nodded quickly, having caught Liva's bewildered look to his concerns. He would have to force himself to forget everything that had happened yesterday, because Liva would never remember it. He was just haunting himself by keeping it fresh in his mind, the weight of her head against his shoulder, the warmth of her arms around his neck, he had to forget it. All. No doubt she thought of him just as one of her royal subjects, as she'd made it clear from the beginning of day one. Hugh was just a bodyguard, nothing more. It had been stupid of him to think that she would be there to be his therapist and counselor, telling him that it was okay to feel the way he was feeling like his mental doctor told him. He'd stopped going to that office a long time ago, it had been pointless. He would just have to cope, figure out how to do life. Everyone seemed to coast through it so easily, and he still was puzzled how it all worked. How friends worked. How parties worked. He'd never know, he'd been to only one, for fifteen minutes. It didn't help to be antisocial.
He'd been picking at a small scab on his finger, inspecting a shallow cut beside it, when Liva spoke up suddenly. His eyes flashed, finding hers as accusing, yet surprised. There seemed to be some recognition as the gears turned in her clogged mind, and for a second, Hugh's eyes seemed hopeful. He caught himself, however, and fixed his expression to be unimpressed. "You're welcome," Hugh grunted, grumbling the two words without really meaning it as he returned his focus to his hands at the stool. He needed to wrap the injuries up, as small as they were, before anything got infected. He could not handle an infection on the job. It just wouldn't do. He needed, needed this job. Even if his client was an irresponsible, troublesome, sarcastic, spoiled princess who didn't understand boundaries and rules.
Liva uttered slow words, recalling the events faintly as she narrated them. She sat near him on another stool, her face in her hands. "You tried to go home with a guy, and well, he didn't like me stopping him," Hugh explained drily, his tone bleak and forced. He didn't know what details to include, whether it was better to have left out the specifics that could embarass her, or anger her. He decided to leave it as it was, standing suddenly from his stool to remove himself from the situation. The coffee was ready. He placed the large mug under the spout in the coffee machine, holding down down a button as the steaming hot liquid poured itself out. Liva's soft voice came from behind his back, asking if they did anything.
"That late at night? Of course not. I sent you to your room as soon as we got home, and I cleaned your... mess," came his reply, immediately without any thought as he removed the cup from the machine. He placed it in front of Liva, his stomach flipping as he realized what she had said. How could she have thought...? "Enjoy your coffee," Hugh muttered, pushing away from the counter once more. He sought the pantry for food, which he planned to remove to the living room and distance himself. This was alreayd a mess as it came, he didn't want to be there when and if Liva remembered his personal outburst in the car and in the bathroom. Liva did not need any more pokes at his flickering, crippled pride than she already had.
Liva tried and tried to piece the previous night together, and slowly things began to fall into place. Vague, broken memories but memories nonetheless. Her face burned when Hugh mentioned that she had “tried to go home with a guy”. A guy… She couldn’t recall his face exactly, that stranger from the club, but she remembered his hands on her, pulling her away from the lights and sound and into the cool night. The fight must have been between Hugh and that stranger then, right? But how did that explain her skinned hands and knees? Had she gotten caught up in it, too? Liva didn’t really understand why Hugh would get into a fight on her behalf, seeing as she didn’t remember being assaulted or hurt in any way. Why was it any of Hugh’s business if she wanted to spent the night with some random guy? He wasn’t her father, for crying out loud! She already had one stern, overprotective parent to watch her every move. She didn’t need another. Liva watched as Hugh poured her coffee, her eyes flashing bitterly as she remembered the old lectures her father would give her. Surely Hugh had a few choice words for her as well…Most of her memory was still fuzzy, but she had pieced together enough of the puzzle to realize that nothing had happened between her and her bodyguard the night before. She may have blushed even fiercer at the notion if it wasn’t for Hugh’s reaction to her question. It was as if he wasn’t even sure what she was asking. Liva gave him a peculiar look. It was difficult for her not to laugh when he asked that late at night? But she said nothing for fear of furthering her own embarrassment. “Thanks.” She muttered, taking her mug of coffee in both hands. She held it for a moment, blowing gently over the rim of the cup until she believed it was cool enough to drink. One little sip right after another and eventually the entire thing was gone. Her headache was better now, thanks to the medicine beginning to take effect, and the coffee did wonders to wake her up… But she still felt like the dead.
“You know,” Liva began, calling into the living room. “You didn’t have to do that.” Her voice was still a little snippy, though she wasn’t nearly as rude as she had been when she first woke up. “I can go home with whoever I want to, and I can take care of myself just fine without your help, thank you.” She grumbled, setting her coffee cup down on the counter before going to join Hugh in the living room. Liva plopped down on the opposite end of the couch, curling her legs to the side of her and pressing two fingers to her temple. She closed her eyes shut, annoyance in every line of her face. If there was one thing that drove her crazy, it was being treated like a child. She was twenty-one! She didn’t need a father or bodyguard or older brother telling her how to live her life! Her whole life was laid out in front of her - she couldn’t even choose what she wanted to wear to events at the castle! Liva, of course, didn’t understand why it was so important that Hugh protect her and help her make the right decisions. In her mind, there wasn’t much danger in what she had been about to do last night. And, because she had never been in a true dangerous situation, she really did think she could handle herself fine.
Though she tried to push the memory away, Liva also remembered something else from last night. She remembered sitting in the passenger’s side of the SUV, crying into her hands, her mascara streaming down her cheeks. But she didn’t remember why she was crying. Hugh was driving and he slammed his hands on the wheel, in the midst of some giant outburst. But Liva couldn’t really remember what he had said that had caused such dynamics between the two of them. Plus, Liva wasn’t entirely sure what of her memory was real and what had been no more than a dream. As Liva considered this, she also wondered about Hugh’s peculiar behavior this morning. What had happened between them last night that had caused all this…oddness?
Liva is so stubborn its incresible xD im on now, probs gonna get a reply up in 30 min or 45
Hugh had slipped his fingers into a box of granola protein bars, bringing it with him to where he planned to sulk on the couch with his laptop and work until his service was needed. Now that Liva was back home, and the CIA had been aroused on his first night on duty, he wasn't too sure if risking short visits to local parks or to the grocery store for the heck of it was even allowed anymore. He didn't want to chance it, yet at the same time, the dreadful bore of being trapped indoors was painful to think about. What would he do all day? Had Liva not left the night before, it wouldn't have ruined his ideas. Maybe they'd be able to go for a walk or something, or he could drag her to the local gym for his sake. It wasn't fair. Couldn't he have been assigned to something that was a little more than watching a 20 year old princess who didn't know how to cook? This was what his life had boiled down to, and he was pretty disappointed with himself. What a let down, he was. His parents, even if they had been good people, would have been equally ashamed and discouraged. Hugh was under the direction if multiple people, never his own boss. Even when he was the one that was supposed to be "in charge" of Liva's safety. It was dishonorable. Here he sat, while Liva howled from the kitchen something about him not having to have saved her from that stupid man, to which he scowled as he peeled open his granola bar. Hugh ripped a chunk of oats with his teeth, chewing with an unhappy frown on his lips. He dropped into the couch, leaning forward to tug his laptop onto his lap. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to do with it, but he figured there was nothing better that could keep him as preoccupied. Hugh almost felt like laughing hysterically when Liva told him that she could handle herself, without his help. Without his help! Hugh lifted his eyes from his laptop screen, bemused as Liva stalked in, sitting on the opposite end of the couch as if sitting any closer would kill her. "Princess, you can't even make yourself a meal. Don't be ridiculous," Hugh clucked his tongue disapprovingly, biting his bottom lip down to resist the urge to snort at the princess ' s naiveté.
It worried him to no end, however, that even after the turn of events they'd experienced last night, she still didn't think she was in any danger, that she was safe, out of harms way. Nothing would hurt her. If only she knew, Hugh thought, to what lengths people would go to have her in their clutches, to put a pretty ransom over her blonde head. She was so oblivious, sort of stupid, and helpless, it made him cringe. His instinctive behvaior to protect and be defensive spoke, an idea faint in his mind. Could he ever teach her to take care of herself, at least, if he couldnt convince her that his aid was needed for her safety? Could he teach the frail, thin, beauty queen, who had never worked a day of her life, whose fingertips were softer than a baby's skin from a lifetime of relaxation? Would she even consider it? Hugh had doubts, big ones, but he figured with all the spare time they had lying around, at some point he had ought to teach her the basics. At least, how to make a bowl of cereal, and how to disarm someone. Or maybe more simply: how to run.
"You don't know who that man was, Liva, you're missing the point. I'll be at your funeral, though," Hugh offered with a resound sigh, giving up on the topic already. He wasn't in a mood to argue, like he would have been yesterday. He was still shady on whether Liva remembered anything at all, on the fence about if he even wanted her to remember. It had been nice, to have someone to tell his feelings without being ridiculed on the spot. It was something new he'd never done before, with a lack of confidantes to blame for it. As a child, he was alreayd bullied or neglected, and he never thought his pitiful sorrows were worth anyone's time. As time progressed, so did that little notion. He simply had given up, deciding the world would be a greener place if he kept it to himself. Positivity, right? People liked that kind of stuff. Hugh brought up the maps on his computer, browsing aimlessly the surrounding areas around the address, unimpressed by the quiet and boring neighborhood. No hangouts, no public spectacles, no interesting buildings. It made sense, but it didn't help Hugh. He was already going crazy, day one in this mad house. With Liva.
Hugh took another bite of his granola bar, propping his feet up on the coffee table. His long legs outstretched could easily reach the glass surface, his ankles crossed. The maps proved to be tiresome almost instantly, only more depressing, so Hugh opted to surf news articles on his Internet home page. Some bombing in Syria, a new presidential election in some democratic region, and gas prices. There had been nothing about Liva and his spectacle at the club parking lot the night prior, so that had been a safe start. He presumed the CIA had taken care of any coverage. An ad caught his eye, one about physical exercise and staying in shape. Hugh glanced up from his laptop, examining Liva with narrowed eyes. Thin, pale, dainty. Petite. An easy target, princess or not.
Liva scoffed indignantly, crossing her arms and turning away from him in pout as she sat on the couch. She could so handle herself. She could run a mile in under eight minutes and was working on her law degree! She was the future queen of Norway! Liva came close to saying those things out loud, but then bit her tongue and held back the words. No, she wasn’t a queen or a scholar or an athlete. She was just a normal girl. The kind of girl that guys just loved. The kind of girl that could go out to party without having to worry about assassination attempts and royal obligations. The kind of girl who could live her life the way she chose. Liva had learned a long time ago that fitting in was better to be thought of as stupid, but sitting here with Hugh… Oh, she wanted to prove to him that there was more to her, even if she wasn’t sure how true that was anymore. He made her want to scream, provoked something inside her. He made her want to rise to meet a challenge for once.As far as Liva was concerned, she could take care of herself just fine if the need ever arose. Then again, she had never faced any truly dangerous situation, for she had always had her father’s guards to keep her out of trouble. Ever watching, ever protecting, even when she didn’t realize they were there. Liva’s strength and cleverness and resolve had never actually been tested like Hugh’s had. But Liva was pretty confident in her abilities, even if they were nonexistent. Why shouldn’t she be able to outsmart any opponent? How hard could it be to throw a punch or outrun a fiend? Liva would be just fine on her own…even if Hugh was right and she couldn’t even cook a meal for herself - Well, aside from grilled cheese thanks to his teachings. Liva, with all her pride, wouldn’t accept the idea that she needed any more lessons from him.
“My funeral?” Liva’s lips twitched into a smirk as she glanced over at him, her eyes sparkling. With her headache growing fainter now, she was able to be a little more like herself. “Good luck getting on the guest list.” When she died, there would be a party. Her funeral would be the grandest event the world had ever seen, even greater than her wedding day or any one of her birthdays. And it wouldn’t be because Liva had made a good queen of because Liva was well-liked among the nobles. Oh, no. The party would be held simply to honor her memory because she had always liked a good party. But as much as Liva joked, she had no intention of dying young…and no intention of being mourned as a ruler. But Liva didn’t even let herself consider either of those things. She would not think about being crowned queen nor would she think about being buried and mourned.
Presently, Liva found herself staring at the flat screen on the wall. She angled the tv remote towards it but, upon pressing the power button and immediately being bombarded by sound, turned it off a second later. She winced, feeling as though someone had drove a railroad spike through her head. The princess stayed silent then, thankful that the only sound in the room now was the clicking of Hugh’s fingers on the keyboard of his laptop. She wondered briefly if she would be stuck here all day now, if she would never be allowed to exit this house again… But for now, staying inside was a bit of a blessing. Liva continued to nurse her headache by rubbing her fingers into her temples until the pain subsided… And that was when she realized that she was being watched. Liva stiffened, feeling Hugh’s gaze upon her. Staring at her. Studying her. Liva shifted in her seat, for once uncomfortable with the attention. Maybe her uneasiness was caused by her hazy memory of the previous night - and the bits and pieces of an argument in a car that kept resurfacing. “Problem?” She asked suddenly, whipping her head around to face him and raising an eyebrow.
(Are we still gonna do the thing where he teaches her how to shoot or somethinf for fun?? :D or should we save that for later and do something else?))
((We can go ahead and have him teach her some self-defense stuff if you want. That'll be funny. xD ))
((LOOOL. Hahahhahaa this will be great. Okay. I know nothing about self defense so yhis shojld be good. Ill take my shower real fast, you gonna be on for anotbwr reply in an hour?
((Maybe. I've got some stuff to read so I should be up for a little while longer. ^.^ ))
Hugh wasn't even sure he'd be at her funeral. For a number of reasons. If she died, while she was under his protection by either some unfortunate accident or fault of his, he'd be in big trouble. Hugh had never let down his employers, and on the first night, the fact that he had already disappointed his boss was a bad sign. He'd be thrown into prison, fired and banished, or so badly sued that he'd be swimming in a vast ocean of debt, one bigger than the little lake he was barely floating by on at the moment. It's not like he'd be invited to the funeral, either. He wouldn't be welcome. He was never welcome. Whether her death was his fault or not, Hugh could already forsee the blame that people would stack on his shoulders, how they'd point fingers, spit, scream at him how it was his fault that their darling princess was gone. He'd probably be shot on site if he dared show up to the ceremony, if he wanted to come and pay his respect.He'd been to several funerals, more than he'd like to admit. Being in the agency, particularly located in Los Angeles, wasn't exactly a safe occupation. He'd lost multiple coworkers, even a boss or two, and a nemesis over the risky missions they'd left on. It wasn't as if they'd particularly liked him, in the first place, but Hugh did still feel remorse and sorrow in the slightest degrees whenever obituaries were tacked on the board of the office. If Liva died, hundreds, thousands would mourn her passing, were it to occur. She would no doubt make it to the morning and evening news, every day, for weeks on end. They'd make her funeral extravagant and important, with the funding exceeding the total of all the money he'd ever seen in his life. They'd weep, write terrific stories, fill up articles in magazines about how Liva Nordskov was a brilliant, smart, beautiful young lady, with so much potential. They'd use endearing terms, comfort the king on his second family loss.
Although it wasn't hard to accept or believe, it discouraged Hugh to think about the fact that nobody would attend his funeral. Nobody would have his fictional, made-up-by-the-caretakers last name passed down -he wouldn't even have a service. Hugh never bothered to make a will either, thought it was a waste of his precious time and money. It was difficult, not having family, not even friends to back up on. Perhaps that was why he latched on to Liva, even if it had only been a day. In his entire existence, nobody had shown that much concern, drunk or not, about him. It was a trivial amount, an amount that Liva herself didn't even remember, but it had stuck in his mind since the night previous. He couldn't stop thinking about it. Hugh hated this second guessing feeling he constantly had now, wondering if, if not Liva, someone, would ever care about his feelings, if someone would ever be there to have his back, to be his personal therapist, his best friend. The answer always came, Of course not, you idiot.
Liva had noticed him staring at her, and he hadn't noticed how long it had been since she'd began to squirm under his gaze. Now Hugh chewed his lip, reminded of the intial reason he had been watching her in the first place. It didn't take long to recollect his thoughts, his unblinking blue eyes finally snapping to attention. "Come with me, " Hugh stood automatically, not revealing his causes to Liva, yet giving her a stern, insistent look that expressed some urgency. He removed his laptop to the coffee table, returning his feet to the ground as he stood. "Well? Come on, we don't have all day," he huffed, rethinking his words before correcting himself. "We do have all day, but- I mean- that's- just come," Hugh sighed, giving up as he turned away from Liva. He wasn't so smooth.
Hugh's long strides led them to the built in room on the left wing, one that was equipped as a "gym". Weights sat on their racks on the wall in the corner, bench press machines and ellipticals and a treadmill lined up adjacent to it. An open matted space filled the middle of the room, a place for one to practice things such as cartwheels, tumbles, or in their case, self-defense. "If you think you can defend yourself from enemies, then prove it to me," Hugh faced Liva, removing his watch and pocketing it for safety precautions. "Fight me," he challeneged, towering over Liva's petite height with fists by his face. He'd never hit her, no, but he'd feign it. "You can handle yourself just fine, right?" He taunted, impatient by her lack of movement.
Though the guilt still existed, Liva also found herself burning with something more. She didn’t like not knowing things, and right now Hugh was the thing she didn’t know. While she usually displayed not even the slightest trace of interest for her servant’s personal life, she couldn’t help but wonder about this distant, angry man. She couldn’t understand why some people acted the way they did, always mad at the world… But then again, her life had been a breeze so far. Sure, there was the occasional assassination attempt or embarrassing article or unsavory marriage proposal… But she had never gone hungry or been in a life-threatening situation, had never went without a warm bed or had to watch her back at all times for fear of someone hurting her. She had always been kept safe and provided for, giving much more than any one person could need. But, of course, there was that loneliness….That empty, aching feeling in her very core that only seemed to fill with the fire of adrenaline when she was putting herself at risk. And that was the reason why she pushed people, why she pushed Hugh and provoked him. She wanted to know that someone out there felt the same way she did, felt the emptiness and the fire…
“I - I don’t know…” Liva shrugged, looking a little defensive. She didn’t know anything about food or cooking or even what half of the things in the fridge were. This is exactly what had happened earlier. Hugh had roughly demanded she help cook something and Liva had let her pride and embarrassment start a fight. But now, as she stared at the place between his shoulder blades, watching him as he searched the fridge, Liva found herself desperate to bridge the gap between them. She reached out, as if meaning to comfort him for whatever reason, but then hesitated, drawing her hand back and feeling thankful that his back was turned to her. Feeling guilty, she offered, “If you need any help making something, I…” She shifted her weight from foot to foot, not liking how this felt. All the guilt and vulnerability and uneasiness. Why did her confidence waver so?
Liva’s eyes traveled over the kitchen, trying to find anything but Hugh to focus on. She didn’t want to look at his face and feel that gnawing guilt, nor did she want to be reminded of her faults when it came to doing ordinary things like cooking. How embarrassing. She was a princess, the future ruler of a country, and she didn’t even know how to boil water. “I… I’m sorry about earlier.” She mumbled, though it wasn’t clear which part she was referring to. Maybe she meant all of it, from starting a food fight to making some comment that hurt him enough to make him cry. She hadn’t intended to hurt him that badly… She had just been teasing, right? It was all just a joke, but she was beginning to wonder how many people didn’t find her jokes funny at all… Not like she should care or anything.