When Basilisk Sylphid find himself too exhausted to watch his mouth.
A pair of footsteps thundered through the hallways before a voice can be heard cussing gods knows what. The figure slammed the door to the specters' lounge room open, breathing heavily. It was none other than Basilisk Sylphid, a celestial star specter and one of the most powerful and well respected one amongst his peers.
"Gods I fucking hate this job–" Sylphid cursed out.
... And he immediately regretted it as soon as his silver hues landed on a particular figure on the couch. The girl looked up from the book she was reading, raising an eyebrow at him. His body froze underneath a pair of obsidian eyes, words caught in his throat.
There on the couch was the daughter of death, his higher-up and commander, the heiress herself.
Lady Lynxadea.
"Uh- C-Commander! Fancy seeing you here.. heh." The specter fumbled, trying to play it cool.
From the way Lynxadea only lifted her eyebrow higher, it's clear that she heard him cussing out about his job. Sylphid pursed his lips and looked at the ground, readying himself for an earful. He might have to grovel in front of her after this, hoping she won't place him in the cleaning duty after his unsavory words.
"I'm a damn idiot..." he cursed in his head, "Should've kept my mouth shut. Damn Queen and his influence."
But instead of scolding him or interrogating him, Lynxadea simply smiled softly. Her familiarly rough voice called, telling him to lift his head. So he did.
The commander shifted on the couch, patting the spot next to her and encouraging him to sit down. Sylphid was hesitant, still a bit tense in worry. But eventually he relented and walked over, slumping next to the brown haired girl.
"What's troubling you my specter?" Came Lynxadea's question, her voice filled with worry.
"Mhm..." Sylphid looked away, sighing. "Just... A tough day. Some souls keep tryin' to escape and shit, barely slept."
Keey let out a small 'ooh' in understanding. She turned back to the book in hand– it was about cosmos, he noticed– and stayed quiet. The silence was beginning to bother Sylphid, and he was about to let out an excuse, but her hand settled on his shoulder and squeezed gently.
"I'm sorry about that. I'll tell someone else to take your shift for now, you should rest." Lynxadea suggested.
Sylphid immediately straightened up. His silver eyes returned to the girl, chest puffed in disapproval as he argued,
"What– No, it's fine. This is my job. I need to do it properly–"
"Which you can't do unless you're well rested." she cut him off, her tone firm. "You will rest. And I'll make sure someone else cover for you. If there's no one to do so, I'll do it myself."
"But–"
"My decision is final."
Obsidian met silver. Both were aware of how stubborn the girl can be, how unwilling she is to back down, especially when it comes to stuff like this. Ever since she became a commander, she took a lot of matter into her own hands.
Everyone knows that the commander cares too much about their well-being. They're not complaining, but sometimes her actions seemed hypocritical, as she often overworks herself too. It's not rare for the specters to find Lynxadea asleep on her desk, paperworks and blueprints scattered around.
"... Fine." Sylphid eventually sighed, giving up on arguing.
"Good." Lynxadea smiled, triumphant and glad.
The hand on his shoulder pulled, almost shoving Sylphid's back onto the couch. He'd complain, but was interrupted by his own yawn, exhaustion finally catching up to him. Great gods, looks like he actually needed some sleep. How embarrassing.
But his commander didn't seem to mind. Instead, her hand moved along his arm, rubbing and massaging slowly. The feeling almost lulled him to sleep, another yawn escaping.
Sylphid flickered his gaze from the ceiling to Lynxadea, finding her gaze on him, a small smile on her lips. Embarrassed, he wished he could tell her to look away, but his eyelids grew heavy. So, as the world around him blurred and his senses fell into the dullness of sleep, he simply murmured what last came to his mind.
