🩸Shape of the unkown pt. 1 pt.2 pt.3 epilogue (finished) - angst
summary: Your friendship with Sylus was the greatest gift ever received, but it's the first step towards deeper feelings. He protected you and Tarus' temple, while you were his oracle and helped him grow his treasure. What happens when a certain sorceress appears to be standing between the two of you?
summary: Destiny is a tangled mess of possibilities. Trying to escape the haunting of your past you get pulled into Sylus' life. Every thing you thought to be the truth somehow ends up being a lie, a deception. Nothing is what it seems. There is a magnetic pull between you two, but can it withstand his desire for his past?
characters: Sylus, non!mc, mc, the shop owner(Philip), Luke and Kieran, other minor characters
Where did the inspiration come from? I actually did the cold water and ice trick and it works, but I looked insane. Hope y'all enjoy it❤️ Also the nickname is partly because my name translates to 'duckling' and partly to one drabble from another writer that used the nickname 'duck' and i found it cute. (Small self insert)
The apartment was silent, silent enough for Simon to start feeling subtly unsettled. Nowadays, he is used to you walking around, watching something in the living room or just talking to him about whatever uni drama happened recently. When these things started, the military man answered things almost mechanically, not exactly interested in the lives of people he doesn't know; however he liked when you started spewing random facts in random moments. With time though, Simon got used to the sound and energy of you - you would call it 'vibe', he called it a comforting presence, even if these words would never get past his lips.
So, it was fair to say that when the exam season came and you started to leave your room less, the apartment felt empty, pressing down on his hyper aware and stressed mind. It wasn't the first exam season, far from it, yet he still felt uneasy without you in his proximity. All Simon could hear from behind your door was the sound of turning pages, scrolling and clicking on your laptop, sometimes typing or cursing.
Today, when Simon came into the kitchen to eat whatever was left from last night's dinner, he stopped dead in his tracks. There you were, face down into a red bowl of water and ice, bubbles surfacing. He expected many things, being used to your shenanigans fueled by stress and frustration, but... This was new.
"Didn' expect ya new copin' mechanism to be goddamn waterboardin' y'self", his voice startled you when your head lifted from under the water. The lieutenant always spooked you because of how light his steps were, though he always mumbles something about listening to less music with your headphones on.
"My head hurts and I heard this actually helps. Pills didn't work", you sigh putting your hands in the ice cold water.
"An' actual torture was the next option?", Simon said pulling the corner of his lips into a slight smirk. "Could've asked for help."
"I actually tried eating ice before this. Wasn't cutting it."
"Tha' school of yours is slowly fryin' y'brain, kid. Take a pause and hydrate", he throws you a bottle of water from the fridge as he looks for something to eat.
Simon, the same man who pushed rookies to their limits, making them train until some of them threw up, wasn't exactly content seeing you overwork yourself. You didn't need anyone to push you to your limit, it was an instinct to do it. While he could appreciate your determination, enough is enough and brains need a break.
The leftovers from last night weren't exactly appealing to him. An idea bloomed in his mind.
"How 'bout y'take a break and we get some take out and watch somethin', duckling?"
The nickname starts a fuzzy feeling to spread throughout your body. You ponder the proposal. These days have been actual hell and, truthfully, you missed hanging out with your roommate watching silly things only for him to be dead serious, playing cards and listening to his horrible dad jokes, anything regarding his presence really.
"Fine, but it's my time to pick."
"It's not, but since y'look like a wet dog, I'll allow it."
Simon won't tell you that for the first night in a few weeks he finally felt at home and at peace. Looking at you laugh warmed something in his chest that he thought to be long dead. He even slept better.
It's hard to say which one of you actually wants more for your exams to be done and over with.
Imagine tf141 x medic!reader (platonic/romantic) in a war set up. She's almost done with her med school, only one year to go, but war means needing more hands to keep soldiers alive.
While the first times the men meet her, no one really cares more than to give short, mumbled 'thank you's or 'have a good day's, her easygoing exterior kind of grows on them. They see her as someone who just got thrown into chaos and pain, yet still tries her best to smile and hope for the better. She adapts and prevails, always trying to do more, learn more, keep more people alive.
Yet, war runs people down and they know this. No matter how calm she tries to be, Price notices her trembling hands. Gaz sees her when tears almost slide over after every loss. Soap jokes harder when she lets out forced laughs, hoping his words might cheer her up. Ghost just passes her a cigarette every time he sees her mentally clocked out, outside, in the back of the med bay, after trying to revive a soldier younger than her. They know that it's a matter of time until she breaks down.
But when it happens it still makes their heart drop to their stomach.
She was doing her round, going by the room that holds all the pills and meds that everyone knew were close to being gone in short time if no supplies will arrive soon. Something falls behind the door and a 'fuck' gets her attention. She gets close, silently opening the door. The sight before her finally breaks down a dam holding all the emotions from the past months - a fellow colleague, needle in hand, almost piercing his skin just above a vein and an opened vial of morphine.
Things happen so fast her mind can't catch up, her legs carry her towards him slapping the back of her hand across his face. Her hands grip the collar of his shirt as she shoves him out the door. It doesn't matter how hard he tries to escape her, anger fuels force that no one would expect of a young woman that almost never eats enough to leave more supplies for the people who need it. While he tries to make a run for it, her fingers gather a handful of hair and starts stomping out of the med bay, into the scorching sun.
Her skin gets under his fingernails, but she doesn't feel anything. His screams and curses don't reach her ears. She just keeps dragging him towards anyone of authority to deliver the justice her bleeding heart craves.
The task force just came back from a mission, moving through the courtyard towards their barracks when they see it. The small woman, dragging a man by the hair. She also sees them and starts walking towards them with the determination of a hurricane.
Her hand shoves the man by the hair, the man stumbling and falling right in front of the lieutenant and captain. Price looks at the man begging for forgiveness, not understanding what happened. Ghost is tense, waiting for an explanation for this situation. Gaz and Soap side eye each other not sure what to say.
'Found him shooting up morphine. Send him to the frontline to see what it means to be cut open and have nothing to settle the pain just like the dozens of men that I had to treat while they screamed for their mother.'
Cold shivers run down their spines, not only by realizing the gravity, but hearing her plea.
As she leaves, abandoning the crying man, they realize that she's maturing into a place that most don't survive and cruelty is needed to protect lives.
She won't make compromises and she'll never be the same.
Hello there sorry for not writing anything in quite some time, uni is hard and I've been hit with ff writer's curse. I promise I'll come back with good things maybe after exam season is done.
I have a thing for roomate/neighbors au with Simon Reily (can be romantic or platonic). I'm also exploring the character. I didn't really intend for the relationship between ghost and reader to be sexual, quite the opposite, but whatever floats y'all's boat.
Not proofread.
Tw: abuse mentioned, torture mentioned
No matter how bad his life has been, we can't deny that Simon is , or at least tries to be, a good person. Not in the usual sense like being a fluff ball of sunshine, but in the way that he noticed when the granny from the first floor had trouble carrying her groceries, so he helped her; when the single mother from the third floor needed a ride to the hospital during a storm because her son's fever wouldn't go down, he made sure they got there safe. Once, a young man almost fell down the stairs, luckily Simon was there to catch him by the shirt and pull him back.
He doesn't do this out of the savior's complex, we can almost say that he dislikes the attention that gets stuck on him at every step just because of acts of human decency - as he deems them. No, Simon does this based on instincts ingrained by his mother's soft voice, gentle hands and warm eyes, instincts that prevail, while in safety, over the rough and violent means equally pushed into his being by his dad and the army and even more so, by the torture that battered his body as it maimed his mind.
So, Simon just keeps his distance, yet helps the ones around him. The need for community is human, even if he denies it.
That's why the moment he sees you, bags under your eyes, cussing at everything, trying to move boxes into your new home, both his natures clashed - violence and fear fighting curiosity, the need to nurture. Simon ends up moving most of your things inside, the only words thrown at you being 'matchbox' when he looked around your apartment and a muttered "G' night" before leaving without looking back.
His shadows were darker than the unseen side of the moon, his nightmares were built on repressed anger towards abusers that chipped away at his mind and soul. Simon Reily hated himself for the things he did in his dreams, atrocious things done to women, because of the one from Mexico. He couldn't look you in the eyes after such nights, no matter how close you two got.
You were just a student, trying to make something of yourself, working, fighting for your future life. The fire in you, even when it was dimmed, warmed the cold graveyard he lived in. Yet, fear consumed him.
How welcoming could he be with you when all his repressed anger needed an outlet? Vicious thoughts stabbed at his mind, stealing every bit of warmth out of you, turning your image into something that didn't resemble reality. Simon knew you posed no danger, that you cared for him, however on nights like these, fear and anger were not such different emotions, turning into a full blown hurricane.
It was late when you heard the glass breaking from the other side of the wall. Books were scattered across your floor, exams haunting in the back of your mind - it didn't matter. Simon needed you. Somehow you can't remember when you got to be in his living room trying to calm him down, his eyes running around panicked. You could recognize that kind of fear anywhere, it was familiar. It hit close.
Somehow, sitting with him, talking to him, giving space for his emotions, awakened a sense of security almost long forgotten. He still didn't want to be touched, your hands were kept far away from him, but he needed your presence and sleep.
That's how, you two end up in the same bed, far away from each other, but you are talking to Simon calmly about whatever, while his mind finally found some way to keep still.
And for the first time in so long, Simon feels love. Feels the words you always say, "We don't have to do anything you don't want". Your love for him means keeping him safe for once, allowing him to be the one that needs help, human and flawed and scattered. And his love for you means he gets through his nightmares only to wake up and allow you around him, because your smile makes everything fade away.
A/N: Hello, hello! I'm back again. We are getting closer to the end of this story. I think that the next chapter might be the last one, but it depends on what the characters want (i have little choice when writing). Hope you'll enjoy it!
warnings: allusion to intimate acts
characters: Sylus, non!mc, minor characters
word count: 3785
Turning into a ghost wasn’t a whim, if anything, it was the second part of your plan. What happened into that forest was just a setback you used to your advantage. The underworld most likely will think you are dead, which makes it easier for you to carry out everything in peace.
At first, you were nothing but a young student thrown into chaos, a target. Then, you slowly started to ascend in rank inside Onychinus. Being in charge of everything regarding protocores and what not was a hassle when high grade items weren’t always easy to procure be it because of high prices or scarcity and other people keeping them to themselves. This is how Elytra was born – your personal project that you made sure no one could track back to you. It was a small exchange enterprise. Through it you could make it easier to get things for Onychinus by assuring a neutral ground for exchanging luxury items, high grade weapons, wanderers and protocores.
Originally, auctions were supposed to do that, but they were turned into a show of power and only the extra-rich could actually hope to get what they needed. Also, there were many scams starting to take place there – wanted or not. Elytra however, was a place where you said what you needed and it was given to you, no questions asked on either part. It was designed to make you win more and others less, but in a way that everyone went back home happy, because even when you couldn’t offer what they wanted, you found the second best thing and some liked it even more.
This project also helped you see through the lines, understanding through purchases what everyone’s plans were before they made any extra moves. With this knowledge you knew what to advise Sylus to do and which way to go regarding investments. Every time, with no mistake, Onychinus won more.
Of course, at first you were paranoid that he’ll find out eventually, so you took many measures to prevent that, having a feeling that this project of yours will come in handy at some point. Through business relations and your help, you ended up with quite loyal people around you – especially, Lady M. She was your proxy, your right hand. She was the one that did your bidding – meetings, interviews with clients, paperwork and who made sure that no one knows anything other than the name of the enterprise.
Lady M. has been a spy for most of her life, not owning her life, being a pawn for everyone. At some point she was sent to infiltrate into N109 Zone. You knew she will end up dead if she kept up – you needed a proxy and she needed her life back under her own reigns. That’s how your friendship started – she was the first and many others followed. In a short time, with spies under your belt, Elytra also started to exchange information. This made your job even easier.
Slowly, uncovering truths about Ever you realized that even if you take them down, something has to come in the empty space left by them. Elytra became your best weapon. You started to widen your horizons, getting politicians, generals, scientists by your side. You started building research centers, weapon factories, energy facilities. It was a bridge between the illegal and legal that was protected by a solid wall. It was what Onychinus could not be.
Once the Deepspace Tunnel showed signs of being unstable, you knew that the time to focus on your plans was coming closer. Now, with this new power coursing through your body, ideas were flooding in.
Your Evol was a blessing and a curse. It was similar in many ways to Sylus’s, yet much more volatile. Energy manipulation had many forms. It opened many doors from seeing glimpses of the future to feeling the shifts of energy around yourself. However, using it came with debilitating pain and fatigue. With time, you got used to it, but also consequences scared you less.
You had nothing to lose and everything to win.
Happiness is a word Sylus doesn’t understand anymore. It was crossed out of his vocabulary the day you left.
Not even the cameras in the hospital’s halls caught any glimpse of you. Sylus tried to run the videos for tests, see if the images were manipulated in anyway. Nothing came back. There was radio silence on your part. No one knew anything about you.
The only place he feels almost at peace is in your home – or rather what was at some point your home. When he first came here, everything was just the way you left it, even your coffee mug was half full. There was clutter on your desk and tables, your trash wasn’t taken out, clothes were waiting beside the washing machine. It was like the house was waiting like him for you to come back.
He took out the trash, washed what was left in your sink and your clothes. Sylus even took time to care for your flowers himself. But the placement of most things was left the same. It was as if he didn’t want to taint whatever was left of your presence. Your bed was far from the luxury of his own, yet it felt more comfortable being surrounded by your smell. Sometimes he spent most of his day in your dressing room. The clothes were not really in disarray, still they weren’t following the order of his own. Yet, he found it endearing. Your smell felt more powerful here, his fingers absently touching every piece of clothing, feeling the texture. Sylus could see which colors and textures you preferred by the small signs – worn out places, subtle stitches. There were times when he couldn’t sleep so he would spray your favorite perfume on an old t-shirt and embrace it, only then would his eyelids close.
Everyone other than the ones close to both of you thought you died. Sylus didn’t expect to see N109 so gloomy, people took a few days to mourn you, adversaries and associates as well, giving him a break. Also, some projects were halted, as you were the one that used to decide what had to be done. This made things harder for many people, not only Onychinus.
Sylus had to decide who should take your place as the director, but he couldn’t see anyone other than you there. There was no person alive that could compete with you.
Over months, things got somewhat easier. But something got his attention. There were some deals done recently that were more than advantageous towards him. Other times, after searching for a certain item, by complete coincidence, he got it with almost no need for a deal. Also, there were deals that seemed constructed only for him, to the disadvantage of any other.
After a year, his suspicions became more present as he looked at the papers resuming the activity of his empire – the numbers were at least just as good as when you worked for him, if not better. Following data that seemed tied together by a red string he discovered the name of Elytra. It was as if this organization put whatever he needed into his palm.
Sylus tried to search about this Elytra, but everything was only general information, nothing that could rise suspicions. It was too clean, too little information. This meant that someone important kept everything hidden, not only that, but they had strong backup. Elytra seemed involved in many deals, auctions, research, underground or not.
For the first time, Sylus had a lead as there was only one person capable of such thing – you.
What he couldn’t understand was why. You had everything at your disposal here, at his side. Why go through all this elaborate plan?
Sylus went through every public appearance of Elytra that took place recently, still, no sign of you. Every time there was someone different. Someone who had no information tied to them.
Elytra seemed like an organization of ghosts.
Looking more carefully at reports regarding the last year’s numbers, he got half an answer – Elytra was openly competing with Ever. Everything Ever did, Elytra was also doing, better. This showed in the way that more and more investors left Ever in the last trimester to invest into Elytra.
Even if he was confused and unsure, Sylus felt proud that you were biting Ever worse than anyone ever did.
All he has to do now is wait for you to show yourself, while he clung to your image in his dreams.
Skyheaven is a beautiful city. Sometimes you wish it wasn’t enemy territory just so you could buy a house here without having to sleep with one eye open. Perhaps if the meeting goes well, you’ll get closer to this idea. Yet for now, the general is swaying on your nerves on a rhythm. The Farspace Fleet is so full of people with their head up their ass, that for a second you ask yourself why did you even think you need their part.
The veil hanging off your hat hides the look of boredom etched on your features, while the general goes on and on about how basically he needs your weapons without being useful to you. Money holds no importance to you. Your pockets are getting full by just breathing. However, you need the stats about the Deepspace Tunnel form them. The only impediment is that currently, they are given to Ever and they would hate for you to get your hands on them.
You lift your hand, stopping the elder man from spewing more nonsense.
“You need my weapons or not?”
“O-of course- “
“Then? I give you the weapons and you give me the files.”
“But they are sent to- “
“Yeah, yeah, yeah whatever. What, you don’t know how to use a printer nor an external memory? Don’t have one? Do you want me to also put a printer into the deal? Is that what you want?”
The old man’s face gets flushed by the remark of his incapacity. He almost opens his mouth to comment back, but bites his tongue.
“Listen very carefully, I know you are out of money actually, ‘cause of what shady business the minister is doing here. Ever also knows this so they will keep you as lap dogs and lab rats for the most basic needs you have. However, I can give you whatever you need with no money, just some goddamn files. In your opinion, what sounds better?”
Silence falls over the meeting room for a few second. Sweat appears on the hairline of the general. He sighs and reaches into his briefcase. He puts the documents into the colonel’s hands for him to give them to you.
“Brilliant decision! You are free now”, your smirk can be felt through your words. “You however, colonel, stay.”
His violet eyes widen in surprise, but nods. You motion for him to sit down next to you, which he does.
“Do you remember what I asked of you, Caleb?”
“Yes.”
“Where did I mention that you have to drug her?”, you ask bending his hand into a painful position, for a second you feel gravity trying to grab at you, but your Evol quickly suppresses his. “I thought you learned not to pull tricks on me, boy. Now, listen carefully, you touch her – you die, you drug her a second time – you die, you do anything that hurts her directly or indirectly, guess what? You die, boy.”, he grunts in pain when you press on his hand further. “I don’t care what stew Ever made out of your brain, but this is no excuse. Understood?”
Caleb nods.
“Words”, you growl.
“Yes, ma’am.”
You release him and leave, heels clicking.
The maroon sofa is soft and comfortable, helping your body relax as you compare the data you have from the ground and what the Farspace Fleet gave you. The differences are subtle, yet their importance is vital. The instability of the energy levels is rising every single day. In this pace, a catastrophe can happen in the blink of an eye. One that you can’t control as you want to. It is time to measure your steps very carefully.
The door opens and your good friend throws her shoes somewhere. Lady M. sits down next to you sighing from the depth of her chest. Her dark eyes see a cocktail waiting for her and she takes a sip. Her short hair sticks slightly to her neck from sweat.
“I take it that everything went well in Skyheaven”, she says looking at the colorful notes around the coffee table.
“When did it ever go bad? How did it go with the future prime minister?”
“Everything is set, in a week he will be elected and then he will make sure every puppet of Ever is taken out. We also got the help of Linkon’s mayor to ensure no disturbances will happen during the elections.”
You hum at the pleasant news.
“After this ordeal is done, we have to start the evacuation plans. The Tunnel is too unstable lately. Tell the mayor to verify the bunkers and protocols for the citizens. Ever will surely try to stop us so they can blame it on us for any major deaths.”
She nods.
“What I don’t understand is how do you plan to attack Ever with it.”
You rise your eyes towards her. The truth is that at first, you wanted to slowly run their resources dry. That’s why you made sure the last mayor was replaced with one for the people, why you made sure the prime minister was the same, ready to protect the citizens first and shared a deep hatred towards anyone who tried to hurt innocent lives for power. You made sure their facilities were closed one by one for whatever reasons, countless of legal processes open against them.
These things were soft blows, momentarily solutions. However, if you could frame them for endangering the population, no one could save them. If the Deepspace Tunnel blew up because of them it was a game over. And since there is proof for reckless experiments in the Tunnel, it should be easy.
“Well, you will find out soon enough. The less you know the safer you are.”
Which was true. The first time you met her, you promised that you will keep her safe. The more you dig, the more dirt you know, the bigger the danger – she already knows enough.
Lady M. just shrugs, before going to change in her own room.
“Oh, he also said that he awaits you at the party after the election, Sunday. You kind of have to go to this one.”
This stops you from reading. Sylus’s eyes appear in your mind like a never dying reminder to what expects you. It’s been a long time since you last seen him, most memories came back from the past. You are not stupid, you know he’s been looking for you, still you are doing this for him. This is a sacrifice willing to do for him to love someone not tied to his past – if not Mrs. Hunter, someone else entirely. Just not you. Your heart burns for him, your skin yearns for him, yet this selfish desire has to die with you.
This party will be the first you attend since everything happened almost two years ago. You know he’ll be there.
No matter what you tell yourself, your heart is still racing.
The elections went just as you wanted. This brings you to the packed ballroom. Crystal chandeliers hang over the giant room; the walls are made out of shining white marble sculpted into flowers and statues that seem to hold the ceiling. Everyone is dancing and laughing, celebrating the win. The prime minister holds you close to him, proving his respect and consideration for you. The whole room flows around you.
From far away you can feel eyes on you – his eyes, red like blood. They analyze you down to every detail. You don’t dare to search them, fearing your composure will be lost.
Sylus has been another shadow that made sure the election won’t be hijacked. It wasn’t necessarily an advantage to him, but he saw that you moved your pieces to facilitate this. Who was he not to oblige? Now, seeing you in that golden dress clinging to your body, the veil hiding your face being kept into place by a delicate tiara of diamond flowers, he felt that his efforts were not in vain. Your presence was more than royal; you were the sun and everyone else gravitated towards your light.
You were a brilliant razor-sharp blade that not a single person could yield. He tried to grip you, keep you close to him, only to get cut deeply. Sylus didn’t regret it. He welcomed the pain if it was caused by you.
Sylus watches as you begin dancing with the new prime minister, spinning in circles, your laughter echoing over the music and that’s all he hears. A boiling feeling arises within Sylus and his feet start moving without his command. He walks slowly as you dance, changing partners as the dance requests it, until strong arms rest on your waist and breath gets stuck in throat.
Your eyes meet his in surprise. Even if after the next spin Sylus should let you go, he doesn’t. He keeps moving you around while holding your body stuck to his. His eye is starting to glow, your body responds sending goosebumps all over your skin. The air gets hotter; your body does too. Something deep inside yourself answers to him, even if you don’t want it to.
“I see you’ve built quite something here, sweetheart. All while we’ve been losing our minds back home”, his words hit a soft spot in your heart that you’ve kept hidden for a long time, not daring to acknowledge it.
Home.
You look at him and there are signs of stress and longing etched on his beautiful face. His eyes are surrounded by dark circles, while his skin lost some of its glow. Sylus’s hair got longer. His body felt sturdier, somewhat bigger – there’s no doubt that his pent-up frustrations were dealt with in the boxing ring.
“I’m sorry”, are the only words you can muster to say.
There are too many things fighting for your attention, from your evol to the feeling of him against you. His glowing eye awakens the power deep inside you, pain slowly coming up in waves. Deep hunger starts to take control of your mind and heart. There’s no doubt that he feels it too, for he comes closer to your ear.
“Don’t you crave a closer look at this eye you’ve dreamed of? To satisfy a desire insatiable? I, myself, am on the brink of devouring this body of yours; enduring this searing pain is the price of wielding incomparable power. Don’t you already know?”, he says, breath tickling the burning skin of your neck.
You try to keep your composure, but he continues.
“I can make the pain go, I can satiate every desire you have. Just let me… please.”
He strings you along somewhere private. The way is blurred by the need inside you. Every moment spent away from him, every wish to see him one more time numbs every thought about how bad this is. Inside the hotel room you can’t think anymore about how you are destroying any chance for him to get with someone else – not when his hands caress your skin so reverently, not when his lips feel so good on yours. There’s no way you can resist the temptation that he is.
Your hands grab restlessly at his shirt, trying to open it, while he lets your dress fall to the floor beside your veil. The image before him is one he’s been dreaming about for so long. The need to just touch you is nearly painful, his mind swaying on the edge of madness.
“We are so perfect together, we are the same, we need eachother… Never leave again, I can’t go through that again…” is all he can say between kisses. His hands grab at your body as if he’s trying to merge your bodies.
The bed is soft beneath you. Your hands feel around every dip and muscle on Sylus’s body, trying to get him closer. His hair is soft under your touch and he moans when you tug gently on the silver locks. You aren’t strong enough to resist. He feels too much like home, his warmth makes you feel like you’ve been forever cold until now. The threads uniting the two of you don’t hurt anymore. For the first time, you let go, knowing he’ll catch you.
He’s yours, you are his and you two are the same.
The pain in your bladder gets worse with every passing moment, you swear you’ll end up peeing yourself if this giant doesn’t let go soon. His arms are holding on your waist for dear life. Every time you move a scowl appears on his sleeping face. You start kicking your feet and patting his arms hoping he will wake up – no reaction.
“Sylus!”, you whisper scream.
He hums.
“Let me go!”
Sylus grumbles and just puts his leg over you, making any resistance futile.
“Please, c’mon big man, I’m going to pee myself if you don’t move and I’ll make you wash the bedding!”
Sylus opens one eye slightly and let’s you go before starting to snore again while holding your pillow.
Your meeting with the toilet is divine, you didn’t even bother to get the light on. You brush your teeth and prepare to go back in bed.
The image that welcomes you is unexpected – Sylus half up in the bad, squinting at you accusatory for getting up, hands between his legs. His silver locks are a mess, falling in countless directions, looking like small antennas connecting him to the mothership. When you start laughing, his lips form a pout.
“You left me”, his deep morning voice has an effect on you, but your heart almost bursts at his disheveled look.
“Yeah, for two minutes to go to the bathroom”, you say climbing into the bed, taking him in your arms.
He obliges, settling with his head on your chest, arms taking their place around you. Your legs are intertwined. In this room, you two built some kind of heaven for a while, until the outside world calls again for you. For now, the warmth lulls both of you back to sleep.
