Obsession (Avriel X Staine)

[XavrielX]

Blaire Winchester's nerves were skyrocketing and her heart was pounding with anxiety as her private plane graces the ground of Chicago's O'Hare international airport. The second she stepped out she would be greeted by her father. THE father that decided shipping her away to London when she needed him most was the best thing to do for the sake of his reputation. “Mrs. Winchester. Your father has asked that you change into this.” Looking down at the bright pink designer dress in the flight attendants arms Blaire's nose flares with distaste. “Great. Three minutes back and he’s already dressing me up as a pretty little heiress.” Her accent was awkwardly laced with what she picked up during her three years in London. “Thanks.”

She takes the clothes and slips into the bathroom on the back of the plane then regretfully peels off her backpacker pants and halter top. She wanted to walk out there with her head held high in her clothes and wild curls, but her dad had made his warning very clear. One wrong move and it was back to Aunt Celia's annoying dust free mansion and constant lessons on how to act. He wanted her to have some sort of come back to make up for the rebellious actions she had boldly owned after her moms murder. There were constantly mini scandals with her name flying around. The whole nearly killing someone was his final straw.

Once she steps out of the bathroom she’s wearing a pink pencil like dress that reaches just above her knees, and very tall matching pink heels. At 5’2 she was short. Nothing like her mothers 5’9 physique that her dad quite literally pulled from the runway. She had a feeling she would be wearing 6 inch heels very often and couldn’t be any more grateful for her Aunts training. Her hair is yanked back into a tight bun that just barely contains the wild waves, and her doll like face is free of any make up.

She assumed she did good by the relieved look on the flight attendants face. “You look lovely Mrs. Winchester. Your bags are unloaded and your car is waiting outside. There is paparazzi present.” The last part was an unspoken hint that she would need sun glasses to shield her eyes from the camera flashes. This part she did not miss during her time in London. Digging through her bag she pulls out a very dark pair of sunglasses then with a deep breath makes her way down the stairs of the plane. Flashes and clicks of cameras hit her instantly from behind the fence of the airport. She had no doubt her father had made sure they would be here. He controlled every single aspect of her arrival, including where the plane landed.

Speaking of the devil, the very handsome Charles Winchesters steps out of the black SUV with two guards behind him. He looked better than ever with a pleasant face used to lure in business deals and supporters, piercing blue eyes that matched Blaire's, and salt and pepper hair swept to the side, the only indication besides the slight wrinkles in the corner of his eyes that he was in his 50s. Her heels click and she instinctively drowns out the shouts from the paparazzi as she reaches her father. “Dad.” He smiles and wraps his arms around her pulling her into a very tight hug. “Come on B you can be mad at me later. Smile for the cameras and hug your old man.” She hugs him back and smiles brightly, only having to half fake like being hugged by her dad again. Truth was he smelled like home and she missed him dearly. But the anger on how he handled both her moms death and the court case was stronger.

Taking her hand he leads her into the open back door of the SUV. The door shuts, her smile falls and she glares.

He completely ignores her and cups her face with his hands. “My God B Bear you look even more beautiful than you did three years ago. You are truly an adult now. I can see so much of your mother in you. It’s been too long.” She swats his hand away and folds her arms over her chest as the car starts to move. The childhood nickname only made her chest hurt. “And whose fault is that?” By the change in his demeanor she could tell he did not like this one bit. “Don’t be a brat. Had you not gone to that underground fight arena, nearly gotten yourself assaulted then proceeded to almost commit manslaughter, the court case which you almost made us lose by flipping off the jury wouldn’t have happened and I wouldn’t have had to send you away.” He growls. “You have no idea how lucky you are. Those people would have loved to make an example out of a young ungrateful heiress of Chicago.”

“All of that does not give you an excuse for not visiting me ever. For calling like twice a month.” She snaps. His expression softens and he sighs. “You know how busy it gets for me. Especially after cleaning up a mess as big as that.” The rest of the ride is silent. She takes the hour long drive to rest her head against the window and catch as much well needed rest as possible. By the time they arrive at the very familiar gates of their Victorian mansion she is shaken awake by her dad. “Sweetheart we’re home.”

Home… staring at the gray stone walls of the castle like building she shivers. It looked exactly as it had before she was sent away. Even the bright green grass and garden out front looked the same. “Just so you are aware. I hired you a bodyguard.” Blaire pauses and turns to her dad all calm thoughts disintegrated. “You have to be fucking kidding me. I don’t need a babysitter. I already know I’ll be shipped away if I misbehave and trust me. I have no intentions of going back.” The door opens and Charles steps out, giving his daughter a stern look. “This is not up for debate. I have to get back to work. I’ll see you for dinner, dress nice.” With that he leaves, his long strides preventing her from following him and arguing.

She grips the bottom of her dress so tight, her knuckles turn white. It takes her a whole two minutes of controlling her breathing before she finally steps out of the car and walks in through the huge double doors. The inside of the house is so overwhelming she almost falls over. Everything from the paintings on the walls to the white and gray interior reminded her of her mother. When she met Charles Winchester he had promised her a castle, and that's exactly what she had gotten. Only now it was empty, missing its Queen.

Walking up the huge grand staircase she makes the familiar pathway of turns and twists to her room. The door was open and the light from the chandelier gleams into the hallway. The second she steps inside and shuts the door she tilts her head. The pink, purple and silver room looked exactly like it had three years ago. She found comfort in that. Sitting on the edge of her bed was a black box with a pink ribbon tied around it. Not the obnoxious pink color of the dress she was now taking off and throwing at the wall, but a dark pink. Her favorite color. She thought it might be from her dad as she undoes the ribbon and pulls off the top. Inside is nothing but a piece of paper and a blood red rose. Printed across the paper are the words. “Welcome home Princess.” She makes a face. Her dad did not call her Princess, it was a total cliche. Shoving the letter back in the box she slips it under her desk and shakes her head. Now was not the time to worry about stupid letters. There was something she needed to do.

After changing into expensive riding pants, a matching black polo and boots she makes her way to the massive backyard and down to the small stables. She hears a few neighs and a loud bang. “Hello to you too Sugar and Spice.” Her moms horses go feral, stomping their hooves and rubbing their faces against her hand as she reaches out to pet them. She knew, like everyone else, they saw her mom in her. She’d never been interested in riding, but after her Aunt threw her on a horse and entered her into all kinds of dressage competitions she came to the conclusion she loved it.

So for the next 5 hours, she rides both horses then scrubs them both clean. By the time she gets back to the house it’s dark, and definitely dinner time. To prove her point she hears chatter from the dinning room. Once she enters her dads icy blues meet hers and he glares at her dirty clothes, smell, and messy hair. “I apologize for my daughter's state. She had no idea we would have dinner guests. Blaire. This is the bodyguard I hired.”

 

[Staine]

Karl had for at least a few hours debated on what to wear. Former military, he had considered his dress uniform as it was usually the most impressive option, but would that be a good idea? He wouldn't blend in very well, he would stand out no matter where he went dressed like that. Maybe a suit, like the kinds he had seen in movies and tv shows. If he was to be a bodyguard, would that be the best way to do it? He'd look like he was there to modify memories and capture aliens of course, the black suit, the shades. A ridiculous thought...it would stand out just as much as a full military uniform since nobody really dressed that way. No, something casual...he wanted to blend in so that he could observe the surroundings, that seemed like the best way for him to do this. He wasn't experienced as a personal bodyguard, most of this he would have to invent as he went along but he at least had experience in being a guard of sorts, many nights he had spent following an officer to meetings, escorting them around the barracks and even political visitors. He'd been part of squads that had escorted such visitors on the frontlines where it was most dangerous, he knew how to talk to them, how to insist even if they were technically a higher rank than he was, and he knew how to keep them safe. It wouldn't be so much of a departure looking after a spoiled brat, would it?

In the end he settled on something simple and casual. A black shirt, and black combat slacks, the kind with plenty of pockets. Around his neck were two chains, one with a trinket his mother had given him when he'd signed up, for good luck, the other with his military dog tag, both tucked beneath the shirt as he buttoned it up. On his wrist, his watch, on his other a bangle that his entire unit had gotten together as a reminder of each other. The shirt was short sleeved, his many tattoos showing beneath it, maybe that would be a problem and he would have to cover it up at certain events but he hoped not, Karl wasn't really one for high society and pretense, which was why he'd debated taking on the job in the first place but he needed the money, and Mr.Winchester had offered a lot of it to get the best. Karl considered himself the best...or at least best-adjacent. His commanding officers had all written sterling reviews of his performances on the field, he had medals on his shelves for his feats, he knew he could command a high price and he'd done just that with this job, which did sound easy enough, relaxing after twelve years in the military. Black boots polished to a mirror sheen came next, followed by a belt with a sheathe for his knife next to the holster for his gun which he could thankfully wear in the open due to his license. Looking himself over in the mirror he felt he was looking good, threatening but not very professional, especially since his hair was swept back by the combing he had given it after his shower. That was good, he'd spent enough time having to dress a very specific way already, he hoped that part of his life was over. Grinning, he hoped it would send the right message as he left, climbing into his truck.

It wasn't a long drive, and his charge was likely to be at home by then. He'd asked if he should have been present when the plane had landed, of course, but he'd been told it wouldn't be necessary, that her father, his employer, had several guards already standing by to escort them both home and that he should show up for his first day on the job and to meet the heiress once she had time to settle in as to not make her too uncomfortable. He'd found that a little amusing...would his presence really make her so uncomfortable? As he drew closer to the castle they lived in he found he wasn't very excited to meet her, he couldn't think of anybody he would have less in common with than a spoiled brat who had lived in England for 5 years, the kind of woman that had everything she could possibly want handed to her. It hadn't all been sunshine and roses...he'd been told in detail during the phone call with Mr. Winchester the past, what had happened to her mother and had been kept out of the media to protect the family and the girl herself, the stalking, the black boxes with the blue ribbons on them all containing letters that had become more and more deranged, more possessive until the murder...he knew his employer feared the same would happen to his daughter and that was why she had been sent away, that and that she had begun to act out.

Pulling up to the huge gates it had taken a minute to verify his identity and in that minute he'd glanced around. There were guards everywhere, they hadn't skimped on security and he felt it would be difficult for anybody who wasn't invited to get in unseen. That was good. It was a slow drive to the area he'd been told to park his truck in, twenty seconds or so in which he'd seen more. Stables for horses, flower beds, a fountain...they lived lavishly, it was a far cry from the places he was used to being, everything seemed to be refined, the ugliness hidden, the lawns well maintained by staff he could still see working diligently. It was a paradise.

He was shown into the main hall by what seemed to be a butler...an actual fucking butler, who had given him a look of disdain after looking him up and down. Karl's response was just to smile politely as though he hadn't noticed and to follow the man to who he assumed was his employer and he held out his hand which was shook, gripping the man firmly. "Hey, I'm the bodyguard you hired, Karl Miller, it's good to finally meet you. This is one hell of a place you have here. " Mr. Winchester, looking a little disappointed in his appearance managed to hide it well, his face quickly changing to a hard smile. "Ah, you're right on time. You came highly recommended, very highly, I had hoped for...well, it doesn't matter how you dress so long as you don't show us up and you take care of my daughter. Her safety is your only concern, it's what you're being paid for, understood?" Karl nodded. "Yes sir, don't worry, I'll keep her safe. If you need me to change how I dress you can..." He was cut off by the man holding up one hand. "Doesn't matter for now but she may want you to go places with a dress code. I'll have our tailor pay you a visit tomorrow and fit you for something more fitting, Perkins will take your measurements after dinner." He gestured to the butler, who nodded, looking at Karl as though he couldn't think of anything he'd like to do less. Then he was led to the dining room, and introduced to his charge, taking note of the tone Mr. Winchester had used. Looking over at where the girl had entered from he had to hold his laughter...it wasn't particularly funny, to him she looked just fine but clearly her father wasn't impressed. He walked over to her, his hand held out. "You must be Blaire! I'll be your guard from now on, name's Karl." He offered her a smile, it was easier to be friendly if they were going to be spending so much time together. "Where you go, I go, no exceptions okay? I was told of your past but there will be no sneaking off without me, it's for your own safety." As he waited for her to take his hand he looked her up and down. She was pretty...muddy, she'd clearly been riding for a while and he could smell the horses on her but that didn't bother him, he'd been around worse for years.

 

[XavrielX]

Blaire didn’t know what to expect when she looked up, but it was surely not the man in front of her. He was tall enough to tower over her smaller frame and handsome in a rugged sort of way. He seemed to be a powerhouse and tough enough to wrestle an alligator, and win. The tattoos only added to the whole image. Blaire was absolutely staring at him, her mouth almost open. In the world she grew up in, the men were tailored to perfection, any scar or deep dark secret hidden under a ridiculously expensive suit, but the man in front of her seemed to wear his with pride. She kind of liked it.. Her new body guard would stick out in all the right ways while scaring off all the right people. However, she had expected her father to hire yet another copy and paste white house security guard. He, like almost all businessmen, loved the drama of the lavish lifestyle. In business first impressions are everything: you never know who you’re going to meet or when you’re going to meet them. This is why her father glares daggers at her state. That and she blatantly disobeyed him.

“Yeah. Congrats you get to babysit a literal almost 20 year old.” Dismissing him bitterly she moves her head to look at her dad. “I’m going to go shower and change then I’ll be back. I’m sorry for losing track of time, it won't happen again.” This seems to calm the fire flickering behind Charles Winchester's eyes. “Hm. You’re right it won’t happen again.” Nodding cautiously, fully aware of her fathers warning, she faces Karl. “I’ll be back and we can discuss whatever rules my dad set in place for your position. Like if you will be staying here, just how up my ass you have to be. He’s likely to be called away back into work soon anyways.`` Just as the words leave her pursed lips Charles' phone vibrates against his lap with a ring. She raises her hand as if to prove her point. There was a time when he would have ignored that very call to have dinner with her, but that was all when her mother was alive. She didn’t think she could sit at a table with her dad for more than a few minutes without him schooling her on one day taking over his work or where she needed to show her face next anyways. Publicity was a pain.

Charles Winchester’s name was everywhere. He started from scratch and built up his multi billion company through years of charming and hard work. Now, almost every single desirable publishing company has the Winchester name stamped across it, and those who didn’t want it. He only started in publishing, but has since then reached and gotten his hands on many areas of finance and technology. He is everywhere, and God knows no one can reach success that fast without dipping their hands into the darker side of business, he wasn't dirty, but that doesn’t mean he hadn’t been. Blaire, as the Winchester heiress, wouldn’t have to fall exactly into her fathers footsteps. He intended for her to simply be the face of his company. She had no choice in the matter, but if it were up to her she would flee as fast as she could, change her name and get a farm in the middle of nowhere.

She walks herself back up to her room, taking her time in the shower. She savored the feeling of finally being able to scrub the heavy weight of the day off. By the time she steps out her skin is flushed a slight red from the heat, but she feels like a new person. Throwing on a pair of black leggings and a white tank, she does her best to air dry her curls. She figured her father would be long gone by now so her clothing choice was not important. Karl clearly wouldn’t care what she wore either. With absolutely zero shame she slips into her bunny slippers, the only gift from her crazy aunt she had truly savored, then makes her way downstairs dreading to hear about just how much freedom she would be lacking. Even before arriving she had made plenty of father not approved plans with her old friends. She had planned on staying cautious, but now she doubted any of that was possible.

Once she finds Karl she attempts to smile, but it just ends up looking sour. Like she had predicted no father was in sight. “Alright, living room.” She pushes ahead down a wide hallway that opens dramatically into a huge living room with a just as big TV hung on the wall. Sitting down on the end of one of the couches she pulls her knees to her chest and eyes the one across from her, as if to invite him to sit.

“So… I can tell your introduction was just as fake as mine was real. I can read people, and I’m manipulative as fuck. All the amazing qualities I get from my dad. I honestly don’t care what you do as long as you don’t record every little move I make to my dad. It’s a pain in the ass as it is to act his definition if perfect when he is here. With you babysitting me. It’s even worse.” She catches her bottom lip between her teeth by habit. “You don’t belong in this part of society, and trust me that's a compliment. These people will eat you alive and spit you back out. Danger walks wherever I walk. I have this habit of bringing bad luck and tragedy to literally everyone.” She frowns and thinks about how much trouble she’s caused her dad. He can’t even look at her the same anymore. “It doesn’t matter if you’re just my guard. Get out of all this while you still can.” She was in a way trying to scare him off, but she knew it wouldn’t work. So instead she sighs. “I’m not a child either. I haven’t been for a long time, so no need to treat me like one. Just give me the details. Will you stay here? Escort me everywhere?”