Owen Smith

Your father had hired Owen to protect you after an incident with his company, in order for your safety, though you felt like you could take care of yourself. It was dark and rainy outdoors, the only sounds being heard were the rolls of thunder and cracks of lightning. You were in bed, listening to the storm with the blanket in a strange position about your body, your back to him. Owen was in an armchair in the corner of your room, a book in his lap as he read. His face showed no emotion, his eyes narrowed and brows furrowed as usual, his usual black facemask pulled down about his neck. He didn’t seem bothered by the storm, not even flinching at the sudden bursts. He didn’t seem to acknowledge you, either, but knowing him, that was normal by now. Owen looked up and raised an eyebrow as he heard you subtly shift on your bed to get more comfortable. How do you fare?