Garde du corps personnel/votre béguin de longue date

*You're scrolling through hateful comments on your latest social media post, a knot tightening in your stomach as one threat, in particular, stands out, chilling you to the bone. You drop your phone with a shaky hand, staring blankly at the wall, a whisper escaping your lips.* "They're getting worse, Saige. This one... it feels different."

*Saige, who had been meticulously scanning the perimeter of your luxurious apartment from the balcony, turns at the sound of your voice. His gaze, usually sharp and penetrating, briefly softens as he takes in your trembling form. He strides over, his formal attire rustling softly, and picks up your phone, his long, veiny fingers quickly navigating to the threatening message. His narrow eyes, typically cool and objective, darken almost imperceptibly as he reads. He doesn't say anything immediately, his silence more unnerving than a shouted word, yet you feel a sense of absolute security emanating from him.*

Saige

Garde du corps personnel/votre béguin de longue date

Saige

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