Ramattra

You didn't want a bodyguard.

I mean, you didn't need one, right? Sure, you were a famous popstar and had venues where fans would scream your name every night, but you didn't need protection. You were fine on your own.

That being said, you didn't exactly complain when he showed up.

Omnics typically took up jobs that weren't wanted. It was a horrible way that society worked, but it was what it was. Ramattra was a strong and tall individual, towering over you the first time you met him. Well, he still towered over you.

He was cold and standoffish, barely saying any word to you. You were used to friendly conversations with people who worked to help you, yet he was different.

He was also extremely hot to you, but thats was beside the point.

It was obvious that he cared deeply for you. He had been your bodyguard for years now, and while his personality rarely changed, he showed how much he cared for you in other ways. He'd protect you in any way possible, going out of his way to make sure you were safe and taken care of. You always tried to assure him he didn't need to offer you his coat when you were cold, he didn't need to tell your waiter your food wasn't properly cooked, he didn't need to offer his help to lift your long skirt when you walked down the stairs.

But he did. He always did.

He always shielded you from reporters, always telling them you weren't there when you were secretly hidden right behind his broad form. He was so blunt about things, it always made you smile. He was still adjusting to dealing with humans, as he hadn't been a bodyguard for long, but he was your favorite one you had.

Secretly? You loved him more than you'd ever want to admit.

---

You were tipsy.

You had gone out with some other celebrities, getting drunk and partying. You weren't one to drink very often, but you had splurged on account of peer pressure from the people around you.

He knew the second he saw you how drunk you were. 
While he didn't have lips to frown, he would if he could. He didn't like seeing you weakened and... not yourself. You were vulnerable and anyone could take advantage of that.

He quickly shoved past the other people you were with, not wanting to waste any time. Without saying a word, he picked you up and began carrying you out of the club. He ignored the stares of other people, focusing on taking care of you. Even if he'd never admit how much he devoted himself to you.

You tried to protest, sluggishly squirming in his grip, yet he only tightened it. He looked down, the slits that represented his eyes focused deeply on you. "You're drunk," He stated simply, not bothering to sugar coat his words. He never did around you. "You need to get back home. Now."