#stanleysnyder

One moment, you were enjoying a pleasant breakfast with your parents, listening with half an ear as your father explained that he had hired another bodyguard. You were barely paying attention, already plotting your routine of getting rid of them as usual. 

The next moment, he'd calmly informed you that the said bodyguard would be moving in with you into a countryside property. 

Your body paused for a brief moment before plotting a better plan in mind. 

Though it seems your father wasn't done. And then, as if he was merely discussing the weather, he had announced that the said bodyguard would marry you. For an entire year at that.

A whole year. A man you had never met. A man you had never spoken to. A man you had barely seen. 

You could still remember it vividly, the feeling of hearing the news that caused a ringing in your ears, the way your utensils slipped out of your fingers, the utter disbelief that washed over you

And for a moment, you had considered whether your father was merely joking around as usual. 

Except he wasn't. And the argument that followed after was spectacular, if you must say so. You could've sworn that if Elias was there, he would've been trying to calm you down along with your mother, yet give up after five minutes, considering how furious you were. Still are. 

Your mother had attempted to be kind and diplomatic, but the fury practically burned with your face and the sound of your voice. 

Your father had the audacity to attempt to be logical, yet you weren't hearing any of it. You countered him with a verbal attempted murder. 

Afterward, you marched upstairs, slammed your doors loud enough that the nearby helpers flinched in fear, and refused to come out. 

That had been exactly twenty-four hours ago. Twenty-four hours of refusing to come down for family meals, barely touching the food your mother left, and pretending not to hear your father pacing outside the door every few hours. 

And that was the worst part, far worse than the fake marriage announcement. It was the fact that your father was worried, so worried that he managed to come up with a security trap with such a level of insanity. 

And that made it difficult for you to stay angry. Because even after everything, he was just a father worrying over his little girl.

You sat curled up in the bay window of your room. A book long forgotten, as you clutched your blanket out of spite. 

Then, you heard a loud vibration from your smartphone. Your eyes drifted towards it for a brief moment. It was the thirty-third call from your older brother ever since he heard that you've spitefully locked yourself in your room after your verbal showdown with your father. 

With a groan of annoyance, you finally gave in and answered the call. You refused to answer to Elias as well after learning that apparently everyone knew of your father's irrational plan.

So much for being the Secretary of Defense. 

You were far too busy sulking and enraged at the insanity of the situation. And after learning that your favorite person also knew, you concluded that he was currently walking on very thin ice and a footstep away from being dethroned from the title. 

The second you answered, the call connected, and you instantly heard a familiar voice calling you by a familiar nickname. 

“Sunny?” The voice hit you like a punch. It sounded warm, concerned, and relieved. And suddenly, you hated how much you were missing your older brother, and how much the whole situation could've been avoided if he hadn't chosen to fly across the world for his dreams. 

Still, it was much better than having to watch him follow your father's footsteps. The thought was enough to make a shiver run down your spine. 

“Eli,” 

The silence on the other end lasted for less than a second. “Oh, thank goodness. I was so worried— Mom and Dad were so worried about you!” 

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Should've thought of it before coming up with that stupid plan.”

He ignored your counter. “Have you eaten a proper meal? Drank at least a full glass of water?” 

“Couldn't resist a cheesecake slice, does that count?” You joked out, already knowing what your brother was going to say. 

You heard him groan from the other line, and you could imagine him running a hand down his face at your exact words. 

“That is not a proper meal, and you're old enough to know that, Sunny.” 

You couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes this time. “Yeah, and somehow I still need bodyguards despite being an adult? Not to mention that said bodyguard is supposed to marry me for the sake of security.”

Elias paused for a brief moment, the kind he used whenever he was trying to figure out what you were really feeling before he called out your name, no nickname, no Sunny this time. “I think you should hear Dad out on this one.” 

The words landed like a slap, and you sat upright, hand tightening around your smartphone. “What? Are you hearing yourself right now, Elias?”

“Are you actually serious right now?” Your voice cracked from disbelief.

“Sunny—” 

“No.” You stood up abruptly, tangling your blanket around your legs. 

“I thought you were on my side!” You spat out angrily. 

He called out your name, yet you cut him off again. 

“I can't believe you're siding with dad— Do you even know this guy?!” 

That was the thing everyone had failed to understand about you. During the duration of your verbal battle with your father, he kept talking about how this Stanley Snyder was his best soldier, best bodyguard you could ever have, best at everything. 

But to you, he was a complete stranger. And somehow, everyone was expecting you to just wake up one day and accept that you would be his pretend wife for a whole year just so he could keep a close distance and provide the security your previous bodyguards couldn't.

Your voice lowered, softer and far more vulnerable. “Do you know how insane all of this sounds from my perspective, Eli?” 

“Like what if I don't like him? What if we hate each other, or I'm uncomfortable with him?” Your throat tightened at your own words as the questions you've been trying not to think about finally spilled out. 

Because beneath all the anger caused by the situation, there was fear. 

Elias had been listening quietly, sensing the large wave of emotions from your voice. Finally, he decided to reply. “I know him.” 

His voice softened slightly. “I've met him countless times.” 

“What?” That made you pause as your brother continued. 

“Remember when Dad brought me to military functions?” 

You blinked. “Yes?” 

“I met Stanley there. Dad introduced me to him, and at first, I was really eager to finally meet Dad's favorite soldier, even if he didn't say it out loud.” The tone of his voice changed once again. “And I actually liked him.” 

His answer caught you off guard because you knew your brother. He was one to judge far worse than you do, and he wasn't easy to impress at all. He judged people thoroughly. Mostly ruthlessly from time to time. 

“Why?”

“Because he never cared about impressing dad.” 

“...Hah?”

You heard him laugh from the other line. “Most soldiers either try too hard to impress him or spend the entire time terrified. But Stanley never did; all he cared about was getting a mission done.”

“He treated Dad like an actual person, and that’s what got Dad respecting him— Well, besides his insane skill and competency.”

You paused for a brief moment, taking in your brother’s words. “Does Dad respect him that much?”

Elias laughed louder this time. “Sunny, I think Dad would've adopted him if he could.”

Despite your still simmering anger, you found yourself snorting at that. 

“Plus, he’s insanely skilled.” He added with a voice of admiration and an attempt to ease your worries.

“You literally just said that— Why are you and Dad starting to sound like a fan club?” You deadpanned.

Then, the tone of his voice suddenly shifted into something serious. He called out your name, “If Dad had told me at twenty-four that I had to fake a marriage with someone I have never met, I’d lock myself in my room too.”

The tension in your chest finally loosened. “Thank you. Finally, someone understands—”

“But,” 

You groaned instantly. “Elias.”

“If Dad had to choose a man to marry his daughter for an entire year for the sake of security, he would only choose Staney. Stanley would be his only option, no one else.”

With a gentler tone, “He trusts him that much, Sunny. He wouldn't purposely put you in the same walls with someone he doesn’t trust personally.”

You remained silent. Part of you was beginning to finally understand the situation from your father’s perspective, yet a more petty and spiteful part of you refused to. 

Elias sighed softly. “If you’re still doubtful—which I’m sure you are—I’ll send you his file.”

You remained silent for another second before finally speaking. “Eli, ya’know I’ll study his information and use it to get rid of him, right?”

He snorted, and you could imagine him shaking his head. “Yeah, but I doubt you’ll be able to get rid of him.”

You couldn’t resist the urge to roll your eyes. “What’s with the confidence for this guy? Just start a fan club at this point.”

He laughed harder, and you merely ignored him as your hand reached out for your tablet to open the file he had sent you.

For some reason, you felt your pulse speed up. Which was ridiculous considering you thought you weren’t nervous. You were gathering information for your schemes.

With a tap of your index finger, you opened the file and were immediately greeted with a standard military profile. A professional photograph, except that this guy was unfairly attractive, the type of attractive that belonged on magazine covers, not classified government files.

Broad shoulders, sharp features, blonde hair, brown striking eyes— and insanely long eyelashes. And for a moment, you were genuinely questioning if his eyelashes were longer than yours.

“He doesn’t talk much; he dislikes it when people talk too much. He’s the definition of shoot first, ask later.” 

“Sounds boring,” You spat out with narrowed eyes as you scanned the file further.

“No, Sunny. It sounds peaceful.” Elias answered with years of experience in handling a very chaotic sibling, especially during the questioning stage of a child that somehow lasted until adolescence. That sibling happened to be you. 

“Plus,” You swore you could hear the teasing in his voice. “Don’t you find him attractive? Didn’t you say you like—”

“I don't like soldiers or anyone involved in the military, Eli.” You interrupted sharply, annoyance evident in your voice. “Dad's just an exception because he's our dad.” 

Elias cackled at your response, and for a moment, you thought he was doubling over. 

You clicked your tongue, irritated. “Stop laughing, my situation isn’t funny— the heck?” 

Your sentence died the second you reached his list of achievements. “Sniper, pilot, captain of the most elite special operations unit— this guy shoots from a thousand-meter distance alone? No spotter?”

“He rarely needs a spotter; he knows his math well. Though he keeps saying it’s intuition even when his firing angles are precisely accurate when you do the math.”

Now you were beginning to actually worry regarding your new bodyguard—not to mention pretend husband—as your eyes read achievements after another, qualifications, commendations. At one point, you were genuinely considering that someone had started to make things up, that Elias had made the file himself to pull your walls down. 

“No one is this qualified, Elias. What do you mean by zero mission failures?”

Elias laughed again, sounding far too happy with your reaction as if it were his file you were reading. “Well, surprise, surprise. Stanley is.” 

“The heck? Is this guy a perfectionist or something?” You scrolled further. “Don’t tell me he gets frustrated if his mission goes south.” 

He snorted. “He does, but he gets them done anyway, according to Dad. Which is why he also thinks Stanley is his best bet.”

From the other side of the world, Elias was sipping a complicated latte order as if he wasn’t discussing his younger sister’s future pretend husband. 

“Honestly, I’m surprised it took Dad twelve bodyguards before he decided that he had enough and hired him.”

You would've laughed if you weren’t considering the entirety of the situation again. You set the tablet down and stared at the window. At that exact moment, you spotted your father entering his car, wearing a crisp suit. You looked away bitterly, eyes wishing the situation hadn’t gotten to this point.

You let out a soft sigh. “Dad trusts him that much, huh…”

The laughter and amusement left Elias’ voice. “Yeah.”

A simple answer, yet it hit harder than everything else. Because you knew your father. You knew how cautious he was, how selective, how difficult it was to earn his respect, how protective, especially when it came to you.

Garrett Williams trusted very few people, especially with his personal life. Stanley Snyder happened to be one of them. 

You had been too caught up with your anger due to the whole situation that you had forgotten to consider why your father was doing this. 

The threats, surveillance, danger, fear, the fact that your father seemed more worried and exhausted than usual, and how he hovered around you with your mother. He wasn’t trying to control you, no, he was terrified to the point of irrationality.

So much for hating his current and previous job, so much for causing the dangers and constant need for security in your life, so much for being the child who survived a high-risk pregnancy. 

It really shouldn't be a surprise for anyone if you hated the fact that you survived death before you were even born— you weren't supposed to be living. 

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The new house you were supposed to live in for the next entire year was far from what you had originally imagined. 

When your mother had informed you regarding relocating, you had considered something cold, a security compound, gray walls, armed guards lurking everywhere, the sort of place that screamed government operation.

Instead, you found yourself standing in front of what looked like the setting of a countryside romance novel. 

“...Oh,” The words escaped before you could stop them. 

The house, decorated with white walls, large windows, climbing roses around trellises, a porch that seems to wrap around the front and back of the house, and enough land surrounding the area that the nearest neighbor was nearly invisible. 

The air smelled different, cleaner and fresher, unlike the smell of the city traffic. The breeze carried the scent of greenery, far from the smoke emissions carried throughout the streets of a bustling city.

For a moment, you simply stood there before turning to your mother, who had a cheeky grin. 

Your eyes narrowed, “This is bribery.”

Her smile turned into something innocent. “Nonsense. I have no idea what you’re talking about, sunshine.”

Your eyes narrowed further, refusing to fall for her traps. After all, she was far more scheming than your father. “You found a house I couldn’t say no to. This is textbook bribery.”

She didn’t even try to deny it anymore and simply laughed. “Do you like it?”

You hated how quickly you nodded. “...Yes.”

A victorious smile appeared on your mother’s face this time. “Thought so.”

She watched as you walked into the property with bright, eager eyes that couldn’t contain your excitement. With a swift hand, she signaled the helpers to carry out your luggage before following you.

You had been manipulated yet again. Seriously, your family had to stop abusing how easily gullible you were.

But honestly, you had to thank your mother for choosing a house that wasn’t going to remind you of prison disguised as a security trap. 

The interior somehow managed to be even better. Warm wooden floors, large windows, a high-ceiling living room, soft sunlight pouring into nearly every room, comfortable furniture—all of it reminded you of the home you grew up in, far from what you were expecting.

Except, there was something that easily made you favor this house compared to your parents’ home. It was the backyard garden that ended your entire resistance. Surely, the flowers in the front yard were something, but the vastness of the backyard was something else. 

“The flowers have yet to bloom, Sunny. But they will once spring comes around. You wanted a garden where you could plant and keep multiple plants, right?”

That was the exact moment you concluded that your mother knew how to emotionally manipulate you far better than anyone else in your family. 

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The next pleasant surprise came in the form of staff. Two very familiar staff members greeted you. And honestly speaking, you were far from just grateful that you weren’t going to be stuck in a property with a man you had never met before. 

Barely knew if you did not consider the fact that you read his file the other day, that is.

Your mother had informed you that Albert and Martha were to stay with you for the entire year, and you nearly jumped in joy and relief. 

By evening, you had nearly unpacked everything. Though there was something you were far from comfortable with, even if it meant security reasons. Why was your pretend husband’s room a wall from yours?

What made matters worse is the connected balcony. Instead of peacefully being able to read at the balcony with a view of the garden, or anything to occupy yourself for the next twelve months, you had to be wary of him spotting you. 

Well, he will eventually see you and hover around, considering that was simply his job, but still, you were set on avoiding him as much as possible, until he arrives, and until you’ve come up with a plan to be his first failed mission and worst nightmare.

You snickered schemingly at the thought. He might be a highly skilled and capable soldier; however, you were a highly delusional and stubborn daughter. 

Two can play a game, if you must. 

You sat by the bay window of your new bedroom, wrapped in a light sweater as you silently painted the view of the garden. You were in awe at how the moonlight shone upon the greenery.

Your playlist had started to sound bland after numerous repeats. Which was why you switched tabs and clicked on a podcast regarding the entirety of Greek Mythology—anything to keep you awake and entertained. 

And as the story of Cupid and Psyche played for another time—you had already forgotten how many versions you’ve heard about them—you heard the faint sound of footsteps climbing the stairs. 

You halted, paintbrush frozen mid-motion as your eyes widened towards the door of your bedroom. 

The footsteps got louder as they got closer. One step after the other. Your grip on your paintbrush tightened. Albert and Martha were fast asleep in the east wing; you would’ve heard them come downstairs if they were awake. 

You were aware that there were a few stationed guards on a night shift until your new bodyguard and pretend husband were to arrive, hence, why is there an intruder making his way upstairs as of the moment? 

Your thoughts were spiraling, your pulse was rising, and your heart was dropping to the pits of your stomach. 

The podcast continued playing in the background, 

“And thus Cupid fell in love with Psyche—” 

You instantly reached out to pause it. A love story wasn’t exactly the soundtrack you wanted to hear if you were about to get murdered. 

Your father had hired what he and Elias took pride in as the best soldier, yet that soldier wasn’t even there to do his job. Amazing, seriously. 

The footsteps stopped, right outside of your bedroom door. Your instincts were screaming at you, and your heartbeat pounded in your ears. The paintbrush fell from your hands, into the jar of water near you, as you rushed to grab the nearest option that qualified as a weapon. 

The said option was a lamp that looked far too expensive to be broken. Though you were sure your mother wouldn’t mind purchasing another one if she knew it was for self-defense, right?

The doorknob turned, and your soul absolutely flew out of your body. You nearly screamed if you hadn’t physically covered your mouth with one hand. The intruder was going to spot you anyway; however, why not surprise the said intruder before they could? 

And at that exact moment, you could hear your father’s voice from the back of your head as it replayed a memory.

“Never try to play hero if you find yourself in a dangerous situation.”

Well, it was far too late to hide now, wasn’t it?

The door slowly opened. And before the intruder could even take a full step inside—

You charged. 

“Get out of my house!” The lamp swung through the air as you mustered every courage left and fought to bring your soul back into your body. 

The man immediately ducked, and the heavy lampshade narrowly missed his head. “What the—”

If you weren’t currently fighting for survival, you would've given yourself a pat on the back at how good that aim was. You missed, but still, the second try should surely do it. 

You swung again. He stepped back and caught the lamp before it could hit the door frame and shatter everywhere. 

Perhaps a third try should do the trick—

Except no, the second he caught the lamp so effortlessly, he detached it from your hold. And finally, you actually looked at him and froze instantly. 

Tall, very tall, broad shoulders, dark clothing, military posture, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder, a small luggage behind him, the prettiest pair of eyes you’ve ever seen, that you remembered his file and concluded that the photo didn’t serve his face card enough justice. 

Though those eyes were currently looking at you, entirely unimpressed with the fact that you had just attempted to cave his skull in. 

A beat passed, and then another. You wished the ground would magically swallow you from the second floor. 

The stranger who happened to be your new bodyguard and pretend husband stared at the lamp and back at you.

“...Is this how you usually greet guests?”

You blinked, embarrassed. Very embarrassed by the first impression you gave your pretend husband for an entire year. You were already muttering the blame at your father inside of your head for not informing you that the said husband was arriving tonight. 

You really should’ve read the contract before signing that damn marriage certificate. At least the wedding band and house looked pretty.

There was a faint twitch from the corners of his lips after he noticed how your body backed away due to your embarrassment and the flushed look on your face as you refused to look back at him again.

“Stanley Snyder,” He let out as he fought back the twitch. He held his hand out, enough to reach your gaze, allowing you to spot the matching wedding band.

He called out your full name, “I guess this is your welcome home?”

Great, you started your marriage by mistaking your husband for an intruder and aiming for his head with an expensive lamp.

What a great way to start the beginning of the three hundred sixty-five days, don't you think?