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flaneur001 · 7 months ago

Text

One step Closer

Pairings- Sylus x Fem!Reader

Tags- Fluff

Word count- 1700

Summary- Back from a tanked deal, Sylus is agitated. Only to chance upon something that lifts his spirits.

Sylus had never seen you cry before. There were moments. Of raw emotion splitting through your anger and brimming like dark clouds, a rumbling oncoming storm, reflected in your eyes. Yet it never followed by rain as he expected.

You would excuse yourself and hide away until the storm passed. Not letting him have the satisfaction of seeing you at your lowest. And that always left Sylus reeling. Making him feel a dull twinge in his chest, knowing that you don’t trust him enough to touch that vulnerable part of yours. Not yet.

But he left you be. His snarky kitten, licking her wounds in private. And when you returned, emotionally recharged, with that cheeky biting facade, he welcomed you back. Never addressing what had passed. It was an unspoken agreement between you and him. And he respected that.

Besides, Sylus was never one to hit where it hurts.

Where’s the fun in messing with the weak?

If he wanted to fight, he needed his kitten to give back in equal measure. With her claws out and her hackles raised.

One late evening, he barged in his mansion. Waves of frustration and anger rippled through him. He made quick work of his jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders, nimble fingers undoing the first three buttons of his shirt, as he bounded towards the bar in his study. His head throbbed just thinking about the mess that the deal had turned out to be.

Gods, He needed a drink.

The hue of his decor reflected on the floor to ceiling window, painting the city outside crimson. He stood before it, taking in the signs of life spread like little shiny dots lining across the streets, meditating, a soft calm washing over his senses with each sip of the whiskey burning down his throat.

When the last notes of the song playing on his vinyl crescendoed, he put his glass down. Suddenly noticing the silence in the mansion. You were staying over this weekend, and while Sylus loved the company of his own thoughts, and the voice of solitude, his curiosity piqued. For as much as you’d like to think that you were the picture of poise, he knew what you really were. A radiant ball of energy. A noisy little Kitten.

Folding his sleeves up to his forearms, he refilled his glass. The amber liquid sloshed, faintly splishling onto his slender fingers, as he pushed open his study door and strained his ears for any sign of chaos in his house.

Nothing. He could’ve dropped a pin and would still hear it echo in this moment. This made him nervous. He methodically checked every nook and cranny until he stopped outside your bedroom.

Well, it was his guest bedroom, but he liked to think of it as yours. It was full of your belongings, and spare clothes. And he would never admit it, but some days when you weren’t able to visit the N109 zone, he would quietly slip in your room and spend the evening there. Placating himself with the soft scent of your perfume lingering in the sheets.

In his mind he had given you a place to come back to. A home away from home.

Dull chatter reached his ears, followed by occasional sniffles and sobs. He stood straighter, a faint crease pinching his brows, his shoulders squared, getting instantly on guard. Fingers clenching around the glass, he hesitantly pushed open the door. A sliver. Just enough to make sure you were okay. But he simply wasn’t prepared for the sight before him.

Three heads, huddled together on the couch. The room was swathed in pitch darkness, save for the flickering, colorful glare of the TV illuminating the occupants.

He relaxed, rolling his eyes in an I-can’t-believe-what-I’m-seeing manner. An amused curiosity translated into a feline-like grin on his lips and he watched, leaning on the doorframe, taking leisurely sips of his drink.

You were sat in the centre, sandwiched between Luke and Kieran on either side, holding a big popcorn bucket on your lap. Three hands blindly groped in the bucket for the salty treat, munching and mumbling, quiet comments about the movie playing on the screen.

By the looks of it, Sylus guessed it was a typical romantic tragedy. And he had walked in during the climax. The hero was laid across the heroine’s lap, bruised, coughing blood, muttering his final dying words and you choked, crying up a river as Luke and Kieran consoled you with wads of tissues and coos of “there-there” complete with soothing pats on the back.

It was certainly…something

Being the character he is, Sylus sneaked up, tiptoeing towards the couch. He was giddy. Or maybe it was the alcohol in his system, but suddenly he had this urge. Of picking you up and spinning you around. To press kisses onto those tear stained cheeks.

He had missed you.

“Never thought I’d see the day when I catch the brave hunter crying over…fiction” He drawled.

His chin was placed on your shoulder, subtly breathing in gulps of your scent. Nose occasionally pressing against your pulse, which was going crazy under the vibrations of his deep baritone.

You flinched, almost toppling the bucket of popcorn on the floor. Bless Kieran, for the last minute save.

Luke paused the movie and the trio turned around with sheepish sputtered greetings.

“Hey-hey Boss—”

“Didn’t expect you home so early—”

“We were just killing time—”

“Hush” He intoned, eyes piercing straight into yours as wispy tendrils of his evol snatched the remote from the coffee table and turned off the TV.

All he needed was a sharp raise of his brow for Luke and Kieran to go scampering out the room, letting the heavy set door shut close behind them.

The room was bathed in complete darkness now. You stood there hugging yourself, suddenly very self conscious about the tears still wet on your cheeks.

“Sylus…”

“Yes, Sweetie?”

He stepped closer, not needing any light to sense your presence. He was comfortable in the dark.

You stepped back, until your legs hit the couch, effectively cornered. You chewed at your bottom lip, feeling him close the distance between you. His arms came to rest on either side of you, caging you, holding the back of the couch as he leaned down. His presence today was vivid. Strong. Masculine. A heady mix of Alcohol, sweat, and his cologne.

You gulped, as you felt his fingers trail down your arm in a slow caress. His face was nestled into the crook of your neck again. Breathing, soft puffs of whiskey warm breaths across your hypersensitive skin, leaving prickles of goosebumps in its wake.

Your eyelids fluttered, head ever so subtly craning to allow him better access, when your eyes snapped open. He had entwined your hands, threading his fingers in that very Sylus manner. But what made a soft laugh of disbelief escape your lips, were the wads of tissues he was pressing into your palm.

“I could most certainly help, but…” He trailed off.

He didn’t need to finish his sentence for you to know what he was implying. He knew.

Months of this game of cat and mouse and he had read you like an open book. He had caught onto your discomfort about crying in front of him. Your hesitance about sharing your weak side with him.

He had witnessed your anger, red hot and destructive. Your laughter, dipped in shades of soft pastel hues. Your sadness, crippling, veiled under the gossamer glooms of blue. You had shared too much already. Given away bits of yourself too easily.

But your tears? He wasn’t allowed to see them. Not yet.

Why?

Because you weren’t ready.

To be so honest with him. To give away that last piece that would chain you to him. Because if he left, wouldn’t that leave you empty?

You would be colorless. Dull. Meaningless.

For in the end, they all leave. What makes him any different?

He left your embrace. Putting a little distance between your bodies, not far, but not too close either. In the dark you could faintly see the outline of his head turn away. And your heart jolted.

Picking up the rhythm in a mad dance. It thumped harshly across your chest, making you worry that he’d be able to listen to it in the silence enveloping the room.

In his rough but clumsy manner he was giving you space. Handing you the reins to control whatever this was that you shared with him. He was allowing you to hide your emotions in the dark while he waited. A show of patience, so unlike him.

You wiped your cheeks. Glad for the darkness, hiding the stupid smile refusing to leave your face, and the flush crawling up your neck. He was dangerous for your weak heart.

After a moment of awkward shuffling, Sylus turned around, heading towards the door. Feeling the dull staccato of rejection ringing in his ears he was about to pull the door open—when he felt two arms snake around his waist.

You rested your head on his broad back and held him. Nuzzling, breathing in his cologne and listening to his sharp breaths, you stayed like that. Quiet and content in the dark.

“Sylus…”

“Yes, Kitten?” He husked, voice scratchy and deep.

“Thank you…”

“Well, if you really are that thankful, there are other ways of showing your gratitude” He teased, and you could picture his typical smirk, and playful red eyes, blinking up a storm of quick excited swoops in your belly.

“Don’t push it” You tightened your hold around his waist in an empty threat. A smile blossoming across your cheeks, after the soft shower of rain.

“Alright” he put his hand over yours and sighed.

Basking in this simple moment, his earlier sour mood long forgotten, he stood grinning. No amount of great deals would ever stand close to this little victory.

One day you will let him see every single aspect of you. Let him collect the pieces to the puzzle named you. One day he will have you…the complete you.

And when he does, he will never let go.

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