[Sylus watches Gen with that same unwavering, amused expression as the man jerks down his underwear in a decidedly non-sensual motion. The lack of ceremony doesn’t bother him; it seems only to entertain him more. He catches the scowl on Gen’s face and the barely contained frustration in his movements, and a smirk tugs at the corner of Sylus’s lips.]
So bossy, aren’t you? [As if this whole situation is just a game to him. As if the snappiness is entertainment itself.
When Gen gestures with a flick of his hand for Sylus to step out of the underwear, Sylus obliges without hesitation. He steps out of them smoothly, kicking them aside like they’re nothing more than a discarded accessory.
Then, with languid grace, Sylus moves back to the daybed and reclines, stretching out in a pose that could easily belong in an art studio. Instead, he seems to relish the attention—no, perhaps the power he holds in being so completely unbothered by it all.
He props his head up with one hand, the other draped casually over his hip, his posture relaxed and confident, hand casually resting on a mere semblance of modesty.]
no subject
So bossy, aren’t you? [As if this whole situation is just a game to him. As if the snappiness is entertainment itself.
When Gen gestures with a flick of his hand for Sylus to step out of the underwear, Sylus obliges without hesitation. He steps out of them smoothly, kicking them aside like they’re nothing more than a discarded accessory.
Then, with languid grace, Sylus moves back to the daybed and reclines, stretching out in a pose that could easily belong in an art studio. Instead, he seems to relish the attention—no, perhaps the power he holds in being so completely unbothered by it all.
He props his head up with one hand, the other draped casually over his hip, his posture relaxed and confident, hand casually resting on a mere semblance of modesty.]