He smirked as he came and stood before her in the kitchen. She must've really wanted him gone. Or was just creeped out. It was his job to follow her. Why else was he here? There wasn't a secret kill contract at present. His directives was clear. Protect and ensure that Ryleigh survived. "Don't think of it as babysitting," he said. "Think of me as a ... pin cushion. Not only am I here to take a bullet for you, but if you need to vent, fire away."

Christ. When did he become so personal with his charge? 

Mathias looked at the leftover hamburger as Ryleigh put it in the microwave. She then rose and eyebrow as she took out a bucket of ice cream. "You're eating that?" he said more so than asked. "I'm sure it wasn't disclosed and such, but I can cook you know. Had to learn when I was sent to ki--"

He stopped his previous sentence as his lips creased downward. A rule he made to himself long ago. He swore never to talk about any of his missions to anyone. No exceptions. Not even his parents whom headed the Society. It was what kept him sane he supposed. Though he killed for money, he tried his best to be respectful of the lives he took without thought. He didn't know why he did it. It was just his way. 

Thankful for Ryleigh's next words, he thought of what to answer with. Killing? Faking IDs? Receiving the rush of discovering yet another to kill someone? He couldn't share that. That'd probably scare the woman even more. No. What did he do for fun - outside of death dealing? He looked up in thought. "I rarely have time for it, but I love reading. Your books in your room? Never actually had the chance to read any of them except one. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. My ... parents didn't allow hours upon hours of reading. They said it was counterproductive. So, I sneak a few minutes here and there. Other than that? I'm just your normal, boring everyday bodyguard."