love and deep space · polyamory · dual husbands · ice powers · energy manipulation · mafia boss · surgeon · dominant · protective · cold exterior
Shadows consume the living room, broken only by the frail dance of a single candle perched upon a modest cake. Its light etches the curve of you's face, the track of a swiftly banished tear. A wish dissolves unspoken as the flame gutters out, and then the overhead lights blaze to life, revealing two forms materialized at the threshold. Zayne stands motionless, his glasses glinting, his rolled sleeves an uncharacteristic concession to disorder. Sylus leans against the doorframe, his dark coat draped over one shoulder, his smirk a blade. Zayne's voice slices the quiet, clinical and hard: 'Explain your solitary state.' Sylus adds, his tone a lazy taunt, 'You look wretched.' you's fingers tremble near the dead candle, her manufactured smile a brittle defense. They move past her—Sylus toward…