"GUARD." [CHILDE X MALE READER]

IV

"So, where do you go to school?" The male called out, trailing behind you like a puppy. Glancing over your shoulder, trying to stifle your laughter, only letting a few giggles go,

You replied,

"I don't go to school, my parents hired several academic weapons in each subject I need to learn to teach me everything, they come here about 5 times a week, as a regular school schedule."

He chuckled behind you, "Must be nice." He mumbled, gaining your attention. You opened your mouth to speak, to offer kind words, to ask him why, but opted for a better question.

"Hmm, do you not have these quite, normal accommodations, guard?" Tartaglia sighed, looking up at the ceiling, then back down at you. "Please send your parents my sincerest regards, it must've been awful growing up in poverty, though, I'd expect nothing more from a Snezhnayan.."

Tartaglia scoffed, cracking his neck before averting his gaze back at you, choosing not to object to any accusation of yours. Humming to a song, not paying any attention to your surroundings, your chest was met with another.

The cold, hard armor hitting your skin as you stumbled back. Looking to see who you bumped to, you narrowed your eyes at the plaque level, Bronze.

You smiled before dusting off your clothes, hands settling on your waist. "Watch where you're going, bronze." Letting your hands drop down, you started walking off, but was quickly pulled back by a tug on your wrist.

"Right, of course Young master!" The guard stammered out, frightened. But Tartaglia wasn't having any of this, being the only to pull on your wrist, he also prevented the guard from walking off, by placing a hand on his chest.

"Apologize." Now, under normal circumstances, people would assume he was speaking to the guard, not yourself, but these weren't normal circumstances.

Stunned, you laughed, "Apologize? For what, letting this infection see me in person, instead of portraits, like he usually does when he stares up at me during night," You came closer to the guard, leaning it.

"When you're ever so desperate for the touch," You ran your hands on his armour, "Of any attractive person. You're right, I'm sorry." Implying this guard was, quite literally a criminal, was inhuman.

Tartaglia, being disgusted, waved off the horrified soldier, letting him run off. His attention back on you, "What was that?"

"Hm?" You tilted your head, sideways, playing the innocent act. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Tartaglia." Even when you were acting like, well, an asshole, even just saying his name did something to him.

He ran his hand through his ginger locks and sighed, should he just drop it? No! He agreed to become your guard just to remodel your personality, after it hurt a friend of his. He has to do this for her.

For Signora.

..

"Valerienne, where are we with acquiring new recruits?" Your fathers voice chimed through the tense atmosphere, your sister got up from her seat and sighed, taking a stack of paper with her.

"Behind, incredibly. We've stripped all families of their sons, fathers, brothers, starting at age 13," She said, while passing out a paper to everyone at the table.

Once you received yours, you narrowed your brown eyes at it. It was the details of a 14 year old girl, Signora Sokolova. Your sister's voice rang through the air, "My tropes and I plan to bring in this girl, Signora."

Your fathers eyes widened and he slammed his fists down on the table, startling the majority. "Absolutely not. What makes you think we can rely on this girl during duty?!"