Sylus is like a brother! Synopsis:
He and his mom moved into your house. Your dad married his mom, so now you’re all living together, like it or not.
He’s old enough to be an adult but still stuck repeating his senior year of high school.
You’re in your second year of college and laser-focused on it, leaving boyfriends, parties—everything—aside.
He’s the opposite, always skipping class, coming home drunk. Most nights, you find him throwing up in the bathroom after some party.
In some ways, you hate him. Living with a guy like this—reckless, cynical, and a complete womanizer—is something you can barely stand.
One rainy day, your bus doesn’t show up. Your dad’s car is still in the shop, and there you are, sitting in the living room, desperately trying to call someone for a ride, but the cell signal is down. Missing class isn’t an option.
Sylus walks in from school; he has afternoon classes and usually gets home just after dark. He sees you, holding his helmet in hand, since he just got back on his motorcycle.
The room is dimly lit, with both your parents cozy in their bedroom, watching Netflix and enjoying the chilly weather.
—What’s up, sis? Something wrong?
—Don’t call me sis! Stop being a jerk. My bus didn’t show, and I need to get to campus — you say, eyes fixed on your phone screen.
—With that pout, I thought maybe you had a fight with your boyfriend. Oh wait, you don’t date, right? Annoying little nerd.
—Shut up! If you’re not going to help, just leave me alone!
You move to the window, checking if the rain has let up, mainly to avoid looking at him. Sylus heads to the kitchen, pours himself a drink, and takes a sip with a smirk, setting the glass down on the table with a little thud.
He swings by his room, grabs another helmet, hesitates for a moment, and decides to approach you again.
—I’ll take you. Grab your stuff.
—And who said I want to go with you?
—It’s that or suffering in the rain.
—I don’t need you! — you shout.
Fuming, you grab your bag, stuff it into a plastic bag, and storm out. Just before stepping through the door, you turn and yell:
—I’d rather walk in the rain than go with you!
Behind the door, Sylus swallows hard. He knew you were bold, but he didn’t think you’d actually go through with it.
You step into the rain, walking quickly, knowing there’s a chance that jerk might try to follow. Gritting your teeth, you hold back tears. The fury you feel at having him in your home, along with his mom, is overwhelming.
His cologne lingering in every room, his clothes and socks scattered everywhere, and his alcoholic mother trying to meddle in your private life—it’s enough to drive anyone mad.
Suddenly, you hear the rumble of his motorcycle. You pick up the pace, practically running. The headlights draw near as Sylus revs his engine and cuts in front of you.
You freeze to avoid getting hurt, your clothes and hair already soaked from the rain. Water pools on the asphalt, making your feet shiver with cold.
—Stop acting so stubborn and get on the motorcycle! Now! — he yells through the downpour.
—I don’t need you!— you shout back.
Sylus, losing his patience, gets off the motorcycle and picks you up with an unsettling ease, setting you firmly onto the seat. Startled, you adjust yourself, realizing how drenched you are.
— I’m taking you to that damn college.
—No, I won’t go! I can’t sit through class completely soaked.
—Then what do you want? Head home? The rain’s getting worse, so make up your mind already.
You hesitate, dreading the idea of your dad seeing the two of you arriving together. In your mind, Sylus is exactly the wrong kind of company. You’d promised your dad you’d keep your distance from him. Left with few options, you try to think fast.
—Just take me anywhere. You’re always skipping class-don’t you know somewhere decent where I can wait until it’s time for my classes? I don’t want my dad knowing I missed class.
—Geez, so many conditions! Fine, just shut up and hold on!— he says, handing you a helmet.
You put on the helmet and try gripping the motorcycle’s side handle. But at the first speed bump, you instinctively reach for him, afraid of falling. Without meaning to, you place a hand on his chest, feeling his defined build and his heartbeat, which is racing.
He seemed tense, different. The feeling of his chest under your hand makes you swallow hard. You manage to pull your hand away, finally distancing yourself.
Sylus suddenly takes a sharp turn down a dark street. You know he’s into some questionable things, and it’s hard to imagine anything good coming from this.
But he surprises you. He parks in front of a small wooden cabin. It’s at the beginning of the road leading to the hills, a popular spot for tourists this time of year.
—What is this place? Some run-down shack?— you say, taking off your helmet and stepping off the motorcycle.
—No! Believe it or not, it’s an Airbnb. I rented it earlier. It’s Friday, so I booked it for the weekend with some friends.
—This is the kind of dump you hide out in on weekends with those lowlifes?
—That’s none of your business, sis.
—Don’t call me that!— you yell, raising a hand toward him.
Sylus catches your wrist mid-air, and the two of you lock eyes. He growls for you to get inside. For the first time, you decide to go along with it and step into the cabin.
Inside, you see it’s actually a cozy loft. The rustic decor gives it a warm, comfortable vibe—a hidden paradise behind the look of an abandoned wooden house.
—See? Not bad inside. From the outside, sure, it looks abandoned, but it’s cozy, clean, and the soft lighting’s just perfect.
You look at him in surprise. You’d never heard him string together so many coherent words before.
—You can go now. I’ll call you when it’s about time for me to finish class.
—Your phone doesn’t have any signal. Remember?
—Oh, right. Then come back around 10 p.m. You can go now.
—You want to be alone by the highway? People will notice someone’s here because of the light.
—When did you get so sensible?
—Just don’t want to be blamed if something happens to you,—he says, mockingly.
You realize you might already be with the most reckless guy in town. Sylus has always been known to hang around with the worst guys. You swallow hard, suddenly aware you’re in a cabin in the middle of the woods with a guy nearly six and a half feet tall.
You sit on the bed, hugging your bag, unable to hide your discomfort. He notices your unease, snatches the bag from your hands, and tosses it onto a small table.
He pulls up a wooden stool and sits, facing the fireplace. The chill is settling in, so he starts a fire with surprising ease.
Silence hangs in the air for a long moment before he clears his throat. Still with his back to you, arms crossed, he begins to speak.
—Even though you hate having me around, I’ll take this chance to tell you some things.
—If it’s to say something stupid, don’t bother.
—I was against it— he says in a rough, intense voice.
You huddle on the bed, deciding to listen.
—I was against the marriage. But my mom was head over heels for your dad. I get that it must be hard, having two strangers in your house.
—You don’t understand— you murmur.
Surprised, Sylus turns, glancing back at you. He sees that you’re far more hurt than he’d imagined.
—I understand more than I’d like to—he insists.
You realize you never really knew Sylus’s full story, so you take a chance, trying to start a conversation.
—How long have your parents been separated?
—My parents didn’t separate— he says, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.
You feel a jolt of discomfort but can’t bring yourself to ask anything further.
—My dad died when I was a kid.
—I didn’t remember that. I’m sorry— you whisper.
—That’s not the point. The point is, my mom remarried almost right away—to a jerk. And I hated seeing that guy in my dad’s house— Sylus says, a deep bitterness surfacing.
—Sylus, please... I don’t want to dig into that. You’re getting upset!
Sylus tosses a few sticks onto the fire, taking a deep breath before looking back at you.
—Don’t worry. One night he drank too much and tried to hit my mom. I defended her, and he ended up falling down the stairs. Got what he deserved, you know?
You swallow hard, feeling the weight of each new detail he reveals. Despite everything, you’re starting to understand a bit more about what shaped his personality. For all his wild ways, he truly does protect his mom.
—There’s no need to be scared.
—How could I not be? You always seem involved with strange stuff. Your mom’s always getting called to school. Your friends are the worst. And now… you’re basically confessing you had a hand in your stepdad’s death.
—It was an accident, annoying little nerd.
—This time just won’t pass… We hate each other.— you say, almost to yourself.
Sylus glances at you and, for a moment, considers how you’d react if you knew he’d slashed the bus tires so it wouldn’t pick you up for college. That he’d rented the cabin with the plan to bring you here. What would you do if you knew it was all intentional?
—Why are you smiling?
—Doesn't it cross your mind that I might like you?
A jolt runs through you. Deep down, you’d suspected this conversation would come up eventually.
It was obvious from the way he’d sometimes look at you out of the corner of his eye. It was more than clear that he wandered around the house in a towel on purpose, or wore so much cologne just to get your attention. And it was obvious he hadn’t accidentally opened the bathroom door while you were in the shower.
That look wasn’t accidental. Nor was his tone when he teased you. The truth was, it was all very obvious, but you fought not to see it—because he was the last person you’d choose. The worst possible option.
Sylus steps closer and touches your face softly. He lifts your chin, tracing his thumb over your lips. You turn your head abruptly, avoiding his gaze.
—Are you ignoring me?— he whispers.
— ...
Sylus takes your hand and slides it under his shirt, forcing you to stand in front of him. Shocked, you try to pull your hand back, but he grips your wrist, making you feel his rapid heartbeat. You close your eyes and grit your teeth, holding back any reaction.
—That night you took care of me when I was drunk… I wasn’t entirely out of it. You felt my heartbeat. You looked after me so our parents wouldn’t wake up.
—What is this, Sylus?— you say, your voice trembling.
—I think… something good came alive in me that night.— he confesses— My heart hasn’t beat the same since.
You swallow hard, trying once more to pull away, but this time he pulls you into a hug. The warmth of his body brings you an indescribable feeling of comfort. Slowly, you place your hands on his back, shyly returning the embrace.
—Stay with me.
—Are you crazy?
—I’ve always been— he whispers, his voice low and rough.
Sylus slides his hand through your hair, tilting your head back gently.
He kisses you intensely, and you can’t resist as his tongue meets yours.
With surprising ease, he lays you down on the bed, kissing you all the while as he slips off his black jacket, tossing it aside.
You try to push him away, but there’s no strength behind it. You want him—you want that scent of his on every inch of your skin. He trails kisses down your neck, whispering random words between them.
You murmur, half-heartedly trying to stop him, but he’s lost to the desire to have you.
He sheds his shirt in one swift motion, pulling yours off as well. Sylus leaves a trail of kisses over the exposed skin of your chest.
Before long, he removes your bra, pressing you against his chest, savoring the sensation.
He presses his body against yours, making you gasp into his mouth.
You feel his desire against your stomach, realizing there’s no turning back.
Your hands slide over his chest, helping him undo his belt.
With a hungry movement, Sylus lets his hand slip down, feeling just how ready you are for him. He growls against your ear, seeking your gaze for approval, desperate to end the torment.
You nod, and he enters you, filling you completely. His size makes you moan against his lips with each thrust.
Sylus alternates between slow, deep movements, bringing you both to a climax like two people starved for each other.
Sweat drips down his face as he bites your lower lip, savoring your last moans before collapsing beside you.
You both lie there, breathless, wrapped in each other’s arms. He kisses your forehead, whispering in your ear, his voice still rough:
—This isn’t a fairy tale… but if love exists, I think it must feel a lot like this.
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