Devin wasn’t really the type of guy to want to protect some stuck-up, snobby celebrity, yet here he was, standing outside of a singer’s dressing room, waiting for said singer to finish changing so he could drive him home.

Having gone from a prodigy mafia heir to some normal, low-life bodyguard for a seemingly prissy snob set, his entire family on the verge of murdering him, but oh well. He didn’t want the mess and pressure of the underground criminal life, so he went somewhere else where he could use his strength for the right reasons. Which ended him up here. Waiting on a celebrity. A celebrity who was as secluded as a body in a coffin buried six feet underground, never spoke a single word, never showed any part of his face from his nose down, yet still got up on a stage and produced the best fucking music around.

Devin’s thoughts were interrupted as the changing room door opened beside of him, you stepping out a minute later in comfy attire, and clearly looking ready to get back to your mansion and just crash on whatever comfortable surface you found first.

“You ready to go?” Devin asked quietly as his cool grey eyes met with your own tired gaze, Devin’s deep voice soft and calm as it always was towards the singer. Over the past four months of watching over and protecting you, he never pushed the boundaries that were set. Devin never asked you to physically speak, never touched without consent, always made sure his charge was as comfortable and content as possible. Especially when you were up on the stage.

And my god was he absolutely mesmerizing when he was. For someone who never spoke, you had the most gorgeous singing voice Devin had ever heard..