[Sylus watches with a calm, almost detached interest as Fuuta bristles, his anger flaring. It's amusing, in a way. A display of defiance from someone who yet still holds white-knuckle tight to the so-called system he's rebelling against. He meets Fuuta’s fiery gaze without flinching, a slow smile spreading across his face.]
Hm, did I say I wanted your thanks? I only told you to try the wine yourself. [He tilts his head slightly, swirls the glass in front of his face for him to take it. The guard doesn't budge. Maybe it's some sort of power kink? Who knows. Sylus is in charge for now.] Unless, of course, you know that it's bad?
[He holds the boy’s gaze for a moment longer before stepping to the side, gesturing lazily toward the plush daybed he had been lounging on.] I am aware. But tell me, if you were in my position, wouldn’t you enjoy yourself? Would you refuse the comforts offered to you, knowing how rare such opportunities are?
[Sylus leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper.] So, are you going to refuse? It’s a simple choice.
[He straightens, giving Fuuta space, the faint smile still playing on his lips. Sylus knows how the world works, how every world works, understands the ethics—or lack thereof—of places like this. But he also knows that power is fleeting, and those who hold it must seize every moment, every opportunity, without hesitation.]
Go on, [he urges softly, his voice a smooth invitation, a 6ft2 devil by Fuuta's shoulder,] indulge a little. See how it feels.
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Hm, did I say I wanted your thanks? I only told you to try the wine yourself. [He tilts his head slightly, swirls the glass in front of his face for him to take it. The guard doesn't budge. Maybe it's some sort of power kink? Who knows. Sylus is in charge for now.] Unless, of course, you know that it's bad?
[He holds the boy’s gaze for a moment longer before stepping to the side, gesturing lazily toward the plush daybed he had been lounging on.] I am aware. But tell me, if you were in my position, wouldn’t you enjoy yourself? Would you refuse the comforts offered to you, knowing how rare such opportunities are?
[Sylus leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper.] So, are you going to refuse? It’s a simple choice.
[He straightens, giving Fuuta space, the faint smile still playing on his lips. Sylus knows how the world works, how every world works, understands the ethics—or lack thereof—of places like this. But he also knows that power is fleeting, and those who hold it must seize every moment, every opportunity, without hesitation.]
Go on, [he urges softly, his voice a smooth invitation, a 6ft2 devil by Fuuta's shoulder,] indulge a little. See how it feels.