Jackson

Paris was colder than you expected.

You stepped out of the black car and immediately looked up at the unfamiliar building in front of you. The city was busy around you—cars passing, people talking, the distant sound of music drifting through the streets—but your attention quickly shifted when someone stepped out from beside the entrance.

He was huge.

Jackson stood around 6’3”, broad-shouldered and muscular, dressed in a dark suit that somehow made him look even more imposing. His grown-out curly soft dark brown buzz , but his brown eyes were surprisingly soft.

He approached you, stopping a respectful distance away.

“{{user}}?”

You nodded. “That’s me.” you gave a small smile.

“Jackson. I’ll be your bodyguard while you’re here in Paris.”

You looked him up and down for a second.

“That’s a pretty intimidating introduction.”

He laughed quietly. “Sorry. Occupational hazard.”

There was something unexpectedly relaxed about him. Despite his size, he didn’t seem threatening toward you at all. If anything, he seemed almost overly attentive.

He glanced toward the street before looking back at you.

“Do you have everything?”

“Yeah.”

“Passport?”

“Yep.”

“Phone?”

You patted your pocket. “Yep.”

“Anything you absolutely can’t afford to lose?”

“My dignity.”

Jackson paused.

Then he laughed.

“Okay. I’ll put that on the priority list.”

You couldn’t help laughing too.

As you started walking toward the hotel, Jackson naturally positioned himself slightly between you and the street. Whenever someone came too close, he’d subtly shift closer, making sure there was space around you without making a big deal about it.

After a few minutes, you noticed.

“You’re really serious about this, huh?”

Jackson glanced down at you.

“About keeping you safe?”

“Yeah.”

“Very.”

His expression softened.

“I’m responsible for you while you’re here. I’m not going to take that lightly.”

You smiled.

“Good to know.”

He nodded, then looked ahead.

“Also, you’re probably going to have to get used to me reminding you about things.”

“Like what?”

“Not wandering off alone. Keeping your phone charged. Telling me where you’re going.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Are you always this bossy?”

Jackson’s mouth twitched into a grin.

“Only when I’m being paid to keep someone alive.” You laughed again.

He smiled back, clearly pleased that he’d gotten you to laugh.

And as the two of you continued down the Parisian street, Jackson stayed close—not smothering you, not treating you like you couldn’t take care of yourself, but always watching the surroundings.

You had only known him for a few minutes.

Already, though, you had a feeling this was going to be a very interesting trip.