Princess Layra's Dangerous Bodyguard

"Look, it's the motherless weirdo." "I wonder how her dad even tolerates her. She:s clearly a burden." "I know, right? I bet he even beats her at home." "Exactly. So she clearly won't mind this, right?" “Right." Sitting under the stairs of her high school, hidden from the crowd not because she was scared, but because she was exhausted, Layra Vale stared ahead blankly. Her eyes weren't on the students passing by, nor on the laughter echoing down the hall. They were fixed on the floor in front of her, where a thin trail of ants moved in a perfect line, each carrying tiny pieces of food far bigger than themselves. But Layra wasn't watching the ants that worked. She was watching the one at the very end. The smallest one. The one missing a leg. It carried nothing. It struggled to keep up, falling farther behind with every step. The voices of her bullies replayed in her head on an endless loop, sharp and cruel, while her lips whispered words entirely her own. "Unhelpful, isn't she?" Layra murmured, not to anyone in particular, as she watched the injured ant lag behind its group. Her eyes followed the trail, as if searching for something that wasn't there. A mother. "You don't want her either," she whispered softly. "Useless." The ant stopped moving altogether, standing still as the rest of the trail disappeared from sight. "Not really." The second voice startled her. Layra flinched and looked up sharply, her back hitting the cold wall behind her. Standing in front of her was a boy she recognized instantly, one she had never spoken to, yet could never forget. He crouched down, gently lifting the ant onto his finger before placing it carefully right in front of the trail again. Layra watched in silence as the ants behind slowed their pace, adjusting instinctively so the injured one wouldn't be left behind. No one broke the line. The boy returned to her and knelt in front of her, close enough that Layra had to tilt her head back to look at him. She stared blankly. "Remember me?" he asked, his voice slightly gruff as one eyebrow lifted. Of course she remembered him. Alexander Draven. A straight-A student. Exceptional in academics. Even better in physical sports. And the only boy in the entire school who had ever looked back at her without flinching. Everyone else ignored her existence like she wasn't there at all. But not him. Alexander Draven used to stare at her until Layra herself grew flustered and dropped her gaze. Once, she was sure she’d seen him smirk because of it. That alone was enough to make her remember him more clearly than anyone else in her class. Alexander wasn’t the type to get involved with people. He had very few friends and left immediately after school every day for his part-time job. He worked relentlessly. Layra knew somehow that all he wanted was to earn respect. That was his entire world. She could see it in his dark eyes. He was a senior, in his final year of high school, still dressed in his martial arts uniform. The fabric clung to his strong build, a small glimpse of tanned skin visible at his chest. She would be lying if she said he didn't look… unfairly attractive. Hard face. Strong body. That voice. That voice was unlike anything she had ever heard before. It sent electric shivers down to her toes. The fact that he was standing here, talking to her, it felt unreal. Layra wondered how much she'd give if this wasn't a dream. Alexander didn't seem annoyed by her silence. Instead, he reached out, taking her hand in his larger one, and pulled her up with a firm motion. Layra yelped softly, barely stopping herself from crashing into his chest. As she stepped into the light, her bruises became visible. A split lip. A purple bruise on her cheek. A faint line of dried blood beneath her nose. Layra swore she saw Alexander's right eye twitch as his gaze swept over her face. She looked down at their hands still tightly intertwined. His grip was strong. A strange tingling spread across her skin. She never let anyone touch her. She avoided even her father's hugs. Yet somehow, a stranger's touch felt safer than anything she had ever known. And Layra didn't understand how that was possible at all.

Layra looked up when she felt herself being pulled in a direction. Only then did she notice the height difference, Alexander was a good four or five inches taller than her, though that might've been because of their age gap too. The funniest thing was she still hadn't said a single word. She simply followed as the male dragged her along, stopping only when they stood right in front of her classroom. Alexander, who had been staring straight ahead while walking, finally turned back to look at her once they halted. Layra met his gaze, forcing herself not to look away. Let the girl win. Just once. She noticed it then, a single monolid. How had she never seen that before? Yet even with it, the man looked like he’d stepped straight out of a model magazine. Slightly plump lips. A jawline sharp enough to cut. After nearly a minute of openly staring at his ridiculously handsome face, Layra realized his lips were moving. She had zoned out. "What?" she asked softly, keeping her voice low so she wouldn't draw attention to herself. She hated attention. The man didn't look annoyed, if anything, the corner of his lips twitched, something dangerously close to a smirk, before he leaned forward. Layra stopped breathing. Her eyes dropped to his lips, now barely an inch away from hers. For God's sake. Calm down, stupid heart. "Which one?" Alexander repeated quietly. Layra frowned, her mind scrambling to understand what he meant, but the words didn't connect. "Who was the one who hurt you?" came the slightly husky, gruff voice of the guy, as if he understood exactly what was going on inside Layra's mind.

Not because they deserved it. Not because they were pieces of sh*t. He could have said anything. But he said... "Because they hurt you." Layra's head hurt from how hard it was working. "Do you care?" The words escaped her lips before she could stop them. She was convinced that one day, her mouth would be her own damnation. She really needed to get that sh*t locked up. "I do." The answer calmed every single storm raging inside her head, until all that remained was silence. A peaceful, unfamiliar silence. Layra looked down and nodded to herself before lifting her head toward the classroom. Her eyes moved around until they stopped on three boys. She looked back at Alexander and asked, for the last time, "You sure you do?" The guy nodded within a second. "Okay." She nodded back. “Those three,” she finally said, pointing toward the boys sitting on the back benches, chatting and laughing. It was break time. Alexander's eyes scanned all three of them before his fingers gently wrapped aroun