I guess the person standing next to Luna is her bodyguard?
Okay, I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe someone built like they could audition for an action movie, all tactical gear and intimidating bulk. Or maybe a stern older woman in sunglasses giving off secret service vibes.
This is... neither of those things.
Instead, standing next to Luna is a woman who manages to be both unremarkable and impossibly striking at the same time.
She's taller than average, probably around five-foot-seven, but it's not her height that's notable. It's the way she carries herself. Her posture is perfect, military-precise, with her shoulders back and chin level. She stands with her weight evenly distributed, balanced in a way that suggests she could move in any direction instantly if needed. There's something about her stance that screams "professional" even from a distance.
As I get closer, more details come into focus. She's wearing a simple white dress shirt, it's perfectly pressed, not a wrinkle in sight, tucked into black dress pants. Black suspenders run over her shoulders, and the whole outfit is immaculate, like she ironed it this morning with a ruler to ensure every line was perfect. Her black dress shoes are polished to a mirror shine.
Her face is striking: beautiful in a cold, untouchable way. Fair, porcelain skin that looks like it's never seen a blemish. Her features are sharp and defined: high cheekbones, a straight nose, and a jawline that could cut glass. Her lips are pale pink, pressed into a neutral line that gives away absolutely nothing.
But it's her eyes that really get you. Icy blue, like frozen water, and they're constantly moving. Scanning. Assessing. She's not just standing there, she's actively monitoring everything around her. The students walking past, the parking lot, the building exits, me as I approach. Her gaze lands on me for a moment, and I feel like I'm being x-rayed, catalogued, evaluated for potential threat level.
Her blonde hair is pulled back into a severe bun, not a single strand out of place. The style is practical, professional, the kind of hair that won't get in the way during a physical altercation.
And okay, I'm trying to be respectful here, but it's impossible not to notice that despite the professional, modest outfit, her figure is... dramatic. The dress shirt, despite being properly fitted and professional, is clearly struggling with her chest. The fabric strains slightly across her breasts, and they're huge, probably F-cup or bigger, creating a subtle but noticeable tension in the material. The suspenders frame them in a way that somehow makes it more obvious.
Her pants are tailored well, but they can't hide the curve of her hips or the thickness of her thighs. She has this hourglass figure that would be more at home on a model or actress, except she carries it with such rigid professionalism that it's almost intimidating rather than attractive. Like yes, she's gorgeous, but she could also probably snap my spine like a twig, and she's very much aware of both facts.
The overall effect is unsettling. She's beautiful enough to turn heads, but cold enough to make people immediately look away. Gorgeous but terrifying. Like a sculpture made of dry ice: perfect, but if you touch it wrong, you're going to get hurt.
I walk up to them, "Hey, Luna!" I say, trying to sound normal.
"Hi... Adam..." Luna replies softly, giving me a small smile.
I turn to the bodyguard and, without really thinking about it, give a slight bow. Oh god, the café habits are kicking in. I feel like a weirdo, but I'm committed now.
"Hi, I'm Adam. Luna's friend." I straighten up and extend my hand for a handshake, trying to salvage my dignity.
The bodyguard's expression doesn't change. Not even a flicker. Those ice-blue eyes remain fixed on me, unblinking, as she evaluates me for a moment longer. Then, with a single precise nod, she reaches out and takes my hand.
Her grip is firm, not crushing, but strong enough to make it very clear that she could crush if she wanted to. Her hand is cool, her handshake perfectly professional. Three pumps, exactly the right pressure, then she releases.
"Eva," she says, her voice as neutral and cold as her expression. It's not rude, exactly, just... devoid of warmth. Like she's reading a name off a list rather than introducing herself.
She lets go of my hand and just... looks at me. Up and down, a slow, deliberate scan that makes me feel like I'm being processed through some kind of threat assessment algorithm. Her eyes pause briefly on my hands, my posture, my face, like she's memorizing every detail.
The silence stretches for several uncomfortable seconds.
Just when I'm about to say something, anything, to break the weird tension, Eva reaches into one of her pants pockets. The movement is smooth, practiced, and she pulls out a plain white business card.
"My contact information," she says, holding it out to me with two fingers. "Call if Luna is in danger."
It's not a suggestion. It's an instruction.
"Oh, yeah, sure. Thanks," I say, taking the card from her. It's simple and professional: Just her name: "Eva" in plain black text, followed by a phone number. Nothing else. No job title, no company name, no email. Just a name and a way to reach her.
Eva gives another single nod, then steps back. She positions herself slightly behind Luna and to the left.
And then she just... stands there. Silent. Watching. Her face remains completely neutral, those cold blue eyes tracking everything around us.
Luna shifts uncomfortably next to me, and I can see why. Having someone that intense just staring at everything would be unnerving.
I clear my throat. "So, um. Ready to head home?"
"Yes... please..." Luna says quietly, sounding relieved to have an excuse to start moving.
We start walking, Luna and I side by side, with Eva trailing behind us at a distance of about six feet. Close enough to reach us instantly, far enough to give the illusion of privacy.
Except it's not really private, because I can feel her eyes on us. Every few seconds, I can sense her gaze sweeping over me, Luna, the street ahead, the cars passing by. She's constantly monitoring, constantly alert.
It's kind of unsettling. It's like walking with a very attractive, very professional shadow that could probably kill you in seventeen different ways.
"So..." I say to Luna, trying to ignore the sensation of being observed. "How was the rest of your day?"
"It was... okay..." Luna says softly.
From that point on, Luna and I try to settle into our usual comfortable rhythm. We continue chatting about inconsequential things: games, anime, a funny video someone posted online. Normal friend conversation. But the whole time, I'm hyperaware of Eva's presence behind us. She doesn't make much noise, her footsteps are surprisingly quiet for someone wearing hard-soled shoes, but she's there.
After a few minutes, curiosity gets the better of me.
"So your bodyguard..." I start, trying to sound casual. "Is she going to be, like, following you around everywhere now?"
Luna shakes her head quickly. "No... She'll just... wait at school... Walk me to my suite... Then I'm free..." She glances back at Eva nervously. "I don't want... someone watching me... all the time..."
That makes sense. Having a bodyguard shadow you 24/7 would be suffocating, especially for someone as introverted as Luna.
"She seems... professional," I offer diplomatically. What I don't say is "terrifying" or "like she could kill me with a pencil."
"Yeah... She's actually... been on my dad's... security team... for a while..." Luna says. "He brought her over... specifically for this..."
So Eva's not just any bodyguard, she's part of Luna's father's personal security detail. That explains a lot. She's probably protected important businesspeople, dealt with actual threats, maybe even dangerous situations. And now she's been assigned to protect the boss's daughter.
"Well, I'm glad you have someone watching your back," I say sincerely. "Makes me feel better about the whole Jack situation."
"Me too..." Luna admits quietly. "Even if she's... a little scary..."
We arrive at Luna's apartment building, that massive tower of glass and steel that makes me feel broke just by standing near it. And the doorman nods at Luna in recognition.
Eva immediately pulls out her phone and makes a call. I can hear her speaking in low, clipped tones, presumably reporting that Luna has been safely delivered home. Professional, efficient, no wasted words.
Luna waves goodbye to me, giving me one of her small, shy smiles. "Thanks for... walking with me... Adam..."
"Anytime, Luna. See you tomorrow."
She heads into the building, and I turn to Eva, giving her a small wave. "Uh, see you tomorrow too, I guess."
Eva's expression doesn't change, but she gives me a single, precise nod. Acknowledgment received. Then her eyes do one more sweep of the surrounding area before she turns and follows Luna into the building.
I stand there for a moment, watching them disappear into the lobby.
Whew. That was... intense.
Eva is going to take some getting used to.
I check my phone. Shit, I really might be late for my shift at the café now. Between stalking Jack after school and walking Luna home with her terrifying bodyguard, I've eaten up more time than I planned.
I break into a run, heading back toward the Midnight Café.