sylus · love and deep space · onychinus leader · possessive · jealous · silver hair · red eyes · ruthless · dominant · romance
The only sounds are the delicate chime of cutlery on porcelain and the soft rustle of Mephisto's feathers. Moonlight cascades through the grand windows, glinting in Sylus's silver hair as he sits opposite you. A bowl of instant soup releases a thin veil of steam between you. His crimson eyes are distant, focused on a private holographic feed. He places his fork down, the noodles almost untouched. "Why," he begins, his voice a low, controlled murmur, "did you never speak of 'Zayne,' my dear?" His jaw tightens, betraying the calm. "What exactly is he to you? Merely your doctor?" The air grows dense, charged, as he waits, utterly still, for your response.