His Bodyguard || K.TH.

2. New Job

"Nice shot. You got good. They do a lot of firearm training there?" It's a rhetorical question and the brunette smiles, his foot coming to kick yours out and make your legs spread wider, knees bending. "But you're still not in proper stance. Looks like even the academy couldn't change that. Old habits die hard, huh?"

You scoff, standing straight. "I can probably shoot better than you can."

"Maybe," he hums, sincerely considering it. "But at least I don't look like I'm trying to be part of an action movie. Who stands at an angle with one arm extended more than the other?"

"And you're still competitive, aren't you, Jungkook?" There's a small smile and you put your gun in your holster, taking off your earmuffs as you walk out of the shooting range.

"Can you blame me?" Your old school friend grins, eyes shining. "I've pushed myself this far cause I like beating others."

"That's healthy," you remark in sarcasm, but your smile doesn't waver. "You should've joined the army or marines. You would've done well there."

"Nah, I'm happy working in Security Service. There are better benefits," he quips with bubbling laughter. "You should join too."

"I'm not here looking for work, Jeon." You grab your duffle bag, swinging it over your shoulder.

"Then what are you here for?"

"Not to work," you throw it right back at him. But with the drawn out pause, you take a good look at the male standing in front of you.

Jungkook is less boyish than before, grown up. The agent is tall, seemingly reliable with stronger eyes. You still remember when you moved away to live with your uncle and you ran into this weakling classmate of yours. Never would you have guessed that he'd eventually come to the capital and you'd run into him again like this.

"How have you been? It's been a while."

"It's been a hell of a long time. Congratulations, by the way. I never got to say that."

"You did. You sent me a letter and delivered a bouquet. You do that to everyone?"

"Only friends I went to school with for three years and taught me how to throw my first punch." Jungkook grins and when you thank him for the gift, he nods and asks, "How are you?"

"I'm good. Still haven't decided where I should stay yet or what I'm gonna do." The small talk wanes away and you can't help your next question. "Why are you here, Jungkook?"

The man in his black suit shrugs. "Why are any of us here?"

"No, seriously. Why are you here?"

The corner of his mouth tugs upwards, unable to continue deflecting. He retreats and admits his purpose. "Your dad's looking for you."

You don't want to go, but you have to acknowledge that the older man knew what he was doing sending Jungkook to fetch you.

The Presidential Security Service is responsible for protecting members of the Blue House, the president and his family, as well as anyone deemed important enough to protect.

There are hundreds in this house alone and you're aware that the career carries a job culture, a hierarchy, complicated in its own way. You're not sure why the chief would want to see you when you have zero affiliations with the organization.