Darling & Commander

The Nymph: 28

Gallaleigha POV:

My hair is thoroughly dried by the time Brock blunders back in through the doors, hair wet and squeaky clean. It sticks up in all directions, inducing a snort and giggle from me as he locks the padlock and approaches me where I sit on my bed.

"What is it, darling?" He raises a singular brow, pinching my cheek as he takes a seat next to me with his bath towel slung over his neck.

"Oh, commander..." I grin, chuckling as I try to smoothen out the unruly locks of his. 

"I suppose that nickname does not quite fit me anymore, does it?" He shakes his head.

"You are not their commander, you are mine. That is what matters and it is why I summon you this way." I let my lips slip into an easy smile. "You fought and commanded in many wars before, my love. You were a fearless leader, and now you may lead us to a home we shall soon discover for ourselves."

"I suppose you should be glad I took my leave, then." He smirks, and I redden at the sight.

"I am... although I am still confused on many fronts about what on earth occurred with your hair." I tug on a particularly short strand.

"Ah." Brock grimaces, looking embarrassed at the image he puts forth. "I had to disguise myself in order to bid farewell without notice, for the king would certainly come for me and attempt to wed me to his daughter. So I put that awful handkerchief around my nose and mouth, and sheared my hair for no one to identify me. The king's men and guards are everywhere around the castle grounds, so it was quite the struggle to be dismissed unnoticed."

"I appreciate the ensured gesture... and," I nuzzle against his shoulder and lace our fingers together. "I have to say, it does not look atrocious. It could definitely be perfected, but your worries are hollow, commander."

His benevolent and insecure eyes flicker down at me before glancing away again, and I rise on my knees upon the bed.

"I speak the truth, Brock." I hum, sifting my fingers through the choppy ends. "Shall I fix it for you?"

"Fix it?" He parrots, lashes blinking up to where I fondle and inspect the mess.

"Yes, I can consider myself a half decent hairdresser. I have been trimming my hair since I was young, for I had no one else would do it for me." I nod.

"Oh. I suppose I had never thought of that." He agrees, thin lips creasing together. "Are you sure it has not crossed too far over the line to be fixed?"

"Nothing is too broken to be fixed. I proved so with your very own heart, did I not?" I press a soft kiss to his temple, which finally breaks a smile through his humility.

"Indeed you did. And if the price was a life with you, I certainly pronounced in a run of luck." Brock agrees, pulling my lips apart to give me a proper kiss before leaning away. "Alright, let me see how you intend on remedying the mess I have made. This should be amusing to watch."

His cockiness all of a sudden and doubt of my abilities fuels a prevailing fire in my competitive aura I did not know I possessed.

"Oh, it shall be amusing."

⚔️⚔️⚔️

I cannot help but laugh as I watch this reaction on Brock's face.

He is genuinely stunning. There is no what if, nor wavering about it; he is the most gorgeous man I have ever laid my eyes upon, and this haircut I have mastered on him amplifies every bold feature of his face.

It is indeed quite a bit shorter than Brock had intended to let me clip, but after a bit of nagging and kisses, he relented agreeing that it could not become much worse than the muddle he had created. And he does indeed still have a full head of hair; it is no where near a buzz cut or anything of the sort. Every sharp attribute of his face is set on display in such a way I wish to own a pillow I could squeal into.

And then swoon.

"This is-" The handsome man turns to me with utter shock depicted everywhere on his face. "Galla, you must become a hairdresser, this is a true talent you possess. You managed to turn the uneven, choppy mess I created into a masterpiece, and before you say it, it is all those skills of yours, not my face."

"Cocky." I grumble, and he chuckles.

"You were to say it, I am positive of the fact." 

"... Only had you not said it first." I giggle, pecking the tip of his nose. "I truly do love you, do you know that?"

"I have managed to get it through my thick skull the first fifty times, darling." He sarcastically replies when I yawn. "Time for bed, I suppose?"

"Indeed." I murmur, and we slip into the bed that appeared to be a lot larger from the outside rather than it proves to truly be.

Brock tucks me close to his side, and I snuggle closer into his scent, drinking it in and breathing it out.

"Darling..." He whispers. "I am truly sorry for your encounter with Andreas. I should have done something, anything, everything to protect you, and I failed. I pledge to you, as long as I stand by your side, I will fortify you with my very own life when it comes down to it. I would be on my hands and knees, begging for them to take me and not you, every single time, relentlessly. I would take the harshest of blades, the most burning of whips, the most destructive of machine guns all to my heart if it meant you could live your life in serenity, away from all of the gore and heartbreak. You may not like this truth, but it is my own, and I hope you will forgive me one day."

My soul aches with every heavy word he drops like an anchor to the tranquil little sea of my world I have found in the bubble in which I am encased.

"What happened with Andreas could not be stopped. I was to resolve my conflict with him eventually, and I believe that will be the last I will see of him in my lifetime. It is alright, Brock. Three years have gone by, and now I have been granted with the gift of a man so selfless and kind and brave as yourself. You will put me before yourself every time, and for that, I stand ever grateful. I love you. And I may very well burst if you keep your hands to yourself for any moment longer."

"Oh, but darling-"

"Touch," I order him, pulling his hands to my waist. "Me."

That was the end of his honor.