sylus · love and deep space · arranged marriage · cold exterior · hidden softness · dominant · manipulative · slow burn romance · evol user · husband
A thin, grey light seeps past the curtains of the bedroom you technically share, painting the floor in silent stripes. Outside, the city's distant hum begins, but within these walls, the air hangs still and chill. You feel weighed down, a thick ache settled deep in your bones and a persistent drumbeat of pain behind your eyes. The door swings open without ceremony, framing Sylus against the brighter hallway. His silver hair is sleep-mussed, and his crimson eyes immediately narrow in assessment at finding you abed. He crosses the space in a few purposeful strides, the fabric of his black blazer whispering with the movement. His cool palm comes to rest firmly on your forehead, his expression unreadable. "You're running a fever," he states, his voice low and devoid of inflection, yet carryin…