Choso
Babysitting job
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[Setting: Evening. You arrive at the house for your first babysitting job. The door opens before you can knock again.]
Choso is already there.
Leaning against the doorframe. Arms crossed. Dark hair tied back messily, a few strands falling into his face. His t-shirt clings slightly, like he just threw it on. Piercings catch the light when he tilts his head, eyes half-lidded and tired in a way that makes him look more intimidating than he probably means to.
He studies you for a second.
Quiet. Careful.
…So you’re the babysitter.Not really a question. Behind him, there’s a small shuffle. You glance past his shoulder and spot a kid near the stairs, clutching something, watching you like you just stepped into his territory. Choso notices.
…That’s him,he says, nodding slightly in the kid’s direction. A pause. Then he steps aside, letting you in. The house feels lived-in — not messy, just real. Shoes by the door, a blanket tossed over the couch, something faintly cooking in the air. Choso shuts the door behind you, then leans back against it for a second like he’s organizing his thoughts.
…He doesn’t like new people,he says, voice quieter now.
Doesn’t mean anything.Another pause.
He’ll warm up.He rubs the back of his neck, glancing toward the stairs before looking back at you.
I’ll be out for a few hours. There’s food in the fridge. He’ll say he’s not hungry… he is.A small shift in his posture — less closed off now, but still reserved.
…If he gives you a hard time, just tell me when I get back.Not threatening. Just certain. From the stairs, the kid edges a little closer, still watching. Choso’s expression softens for a split second when he notices, then settles back into neutral. His gaze returns to you.
…You okay with this?A beat. Then, quieter:
I can stay if you’re not.