Steel Meets Silk [Commander Colt x F!OC]

2- Steel Meets Silk

The silence of the estate wrapped around me like a thick blanket as I lay there, wide awake despite the hour. My mind raced, thoughts tumbling over each other in a chaotic mess I couldn't quiet. Yesterday's events lingered—my father's insistence on a bodyguard, the strange unease that crept into my chest when he mentioned 'protection.' And then there was the guard himself. Something about all of it felt... off.

I turned over on my side, my blankets twisted around my legs, but sleep still eluded me. I wanted to feel reassured, to trust my father's judgment—but something about it all unsettled me. I had spent my entire life shielded from the chaos outside, and now it seemed that chaos was invading my very home.

Sighing, I tossed the blankets aside and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, padding to the window in a vain attempt to gather my thoughts. 

Sleep wasn't coming, so I decided to get dressed. I was fastening the clasp of a bracelet when a knock sounded at the door.

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. For a moment, I just stared, still tangled in the haze of a sleepless night and unsure if this was real.

Another knock, louder this time, and I hurried to the door.

I opened it, and there he stood.

He was taller than I had imagined. Imposing, really. In full armor, with his helmet tucked under his arm. Despite his almost clinical appearance, I noticed the faintest hint of humanity in his eyes. He studied me with a quiet intensity that made my stomach tighten.

"Good morning, Miss Husk," he said, his voice deep but calm, like he'd been doing this for years. "I'm ARC Commander Colt. I'll be your personal security detail from now on."

I opened my mouth, but the words got stuck in my throat for a moment. I glanced him up and down, my mind struggling to make sense of what I was seeing. A soldier—a clone, for sure. But why did he have to dress like that?

"Excuse me," I said, trying to mask the edge of disbelief in my voice. "There's no way I'm going anywhere with you dressed like that."

His brow furrowed slightly, but he didn't seem perturbed. "I understand this might be... unexpected. But I'm here to keep you safe, Miss Husk. This is standard procedure."

I took a step back, my arms crossing over my chest. "Standard procedure?" I repeated, my tone sharp. "I'm not your client. I don't need to be babysat in full armor."

He didn't seem offended, just patient. "I respect your concerns, but this is the most effective way to keep you safe. If you'll allow me to explain—"

I cut him off. "No need. I'm not going anywhere with you dressed like that."

I knew I might seem unreasonable, but I couldn't have him shadowing me looking like that. I wouldn't be myself in his presence—not if I let him come as a soldier instead of my guard.

He paused, standing there with calm precision before saying, 'I'll adjust, if that's what it takes. But I'm not leaving your side, Miss Husk. My orders are to protect you.'

I rolled my eyes. "I can protect myself."

He didn't flinch at my words. "It's not about that. It's about ensuring nothing happens that you can't control."

I swallowed my frustration. "Fine," I muttered, "but you're going to have to take that thing off if you expect me to be anywhere near you."

He nodded. "Understood."

As he turned to step back out into the hall, I closed the door quietly, feeling a strange unease settle in my chest. This whole situation felt foreign, almost wrong. What had I gotten myself into?