Saved || Bodyguard Connor x Reader

Chapter 17: Uncertain Embrace

The walk back is... different.

Valerie had left first, mumbling something about a "work thing" (a lie, and you both knew it), leaving you alone with Connor.

And that wouldn't normally be a big deal. You're used to his presence, used to the quiet hum of his systems as he follows half a step behind you. But tonight, the silence stretches longer, feels heavier. You can't tell if it's from Arlo's little stunt, or the way Connor reacted.

You shove your hands into your pockets, breaking the silence. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

Connor doesn't look at you, but his LED blinks yellow again. "Do what?"

You huff. "You know what."

For a moment, he doesn't answer, just keeps walking. Then—

"It was necessary."

There it is again. That same phrase from earlier. You don't know why it makes your stomach twist the way it does.

You stop walking, turning to face him fully. Connor halts immediately, gaze sharp as he analyzes your expression.

"You've reacted like that before," you say slowly, trying to piece together what's bothering you. "When there was an actual threat. When someone was dangerous. But Arlo wasn't—" You halt, biting your lip. He was making you uncomfortable. But Connor had moved before you even fully processed it yourself.

Connor's LED spins, as if processing the right words. "His proximity to you was inappropriate," he says finally. "You displayed visible signs of discomfort. I acted accordingly."

You blink. It's such a clinical answer—like he's reading from a manual. But his jaw is tight. His shoulders are squared. Something about this is different.

"...Right." You exhale, shaking your head. "It's just... usually, you assess the situation first. You don't act unless it's necessary."

Connor's gaze flickers, something shifting behind his expression.

"I assessed the situation," he says, as if that explains everything.

Would he have done the same if it were someone else? If it weren't Arlo, but some random stranger? If it weren't—

You push that thought away. "I just—" You sigh, rubbing your temples. "Forget it."

Another beat of silence. Then—

"I should not have touched him."

Your head snaps up. What?

Connor's expression is unreadable, but there's a flicker of something in his eyes—something too human for a machine that claims not to feel.

"If I had known that it would upset you this much, Miss Y/N, I would have exercised more restraint."

His voice is steady, measured—like he's stating a fact. But there's something else there, something just beneath the surface.

You cross your arms. "So what, you're apologizing now?"

Connor tilts his head slightly, LED flickering. "Not for my actions. Only for the distress it has caused you."

Of course. Typical Connor answer.

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. "You don't get it."

A pause. "Then please explain it to me."

That catches you off guard.

You stare at him, searching for... something. A sign that he's aware of how different this was. How it wasn't just about protection, but something else entirely. But his expression remains neutral, unreadable.

Finally, you look away. "Forget it, Connor."

You turn, continuing down the sidewalk. A few seconds later, you hear the soft sound of his footsteps as he follows.

This time, he doesn't walk behind you. He walks beside you.

The night air is crisp, with stars shimmering in the sky and a gentle breeze brushing against your skin.

You stop walking.

Connor halts beside you almost immediately, his head tilting slightly as he studies you. "Miss Y/N?"

You don't know what you're expecting from him. An apology? A reassurance? Something to explain why his reaction felt different  this time—why it still lingers in your chest, making your heart pound.

"You scared me," you say, barely above a whisper.

Connor stiffens, his LED flickering yellow again. "That was not my intention."

"I know." You bite your lip, looking down. "But the way you grabbed him... the way you looked at him, it wasn't just about keeping me safe." You glance up at him, searching his face. "Was it?"

Connor is silent.

You expect him to deny it. To say it was protocol, that he simply assessed Arlo as a threat and acted accordingly. But instead—

"I... do not know," he admits.

And something about that honesty makes your chest ache.

You hesitate, then—before you can stop yourself—you step forward and wrap your arms around him.

Connor tenses. Not because he dislikes it, you realize, but because he simply doesn't know what to do. His hands hover for a second before, slowly, carefully, they settle against your back.

His touch is hesitant, as if unsure whether he's allowed to hold on.

"You don't always have to understand everything right away," you murmur against his shoulder. "Just... don't shut me out."

There's a beat of silence. Then, softer this time—

"Okay."

His grip tightens ever so slightly. Just for a moment.