[Sylus lets the word 'prick' roll off him like a shared joke, his lips curling into a small, almost fond smile. It's a familiarity they’ve earned, this back-and-forth, the kind of banter that exists only between two people who have already drawn blood in one way or another. The insult feels less like an attack now, more like a private language.
Ross’s raw confession hits him harder than expected. For all the wealth, power, and luxury this place offers, Sylus knows the hollowness that remains when you’re denied what matters most.
Without the gleam of his red right eye, without the sharp edges of his Evol that could easily pry deeper into Ross’s soul, Sylus understands. He knows what it feels like to want something that this place, for all its opulence, cannot provide. To be surrounded by excess and yet starve for the one thing that’s just out of reach.
They're similar. No wonder they butt heads like this.
His thumb stills for the first time, a deliberate pause in the silence between them. Then, with a quiet, measured intent, Sylus’s hand slips further beneath the barely-there fabric of Ross’s robe, fingertips grazing over the smooth skin of his thigh. His touch is softer now, intimate in a way that isn't just physical but grounded in something deeper. He traces the fold where Ross’s thigh meets the rest of his body, his fingers lingering just at the edge, knowing but not rushing.
His gaze softens, studying Ross’s face for any sign of fear or doubt, but what he sees is the same raw want mirrored in his own. Sylus leans in slightly, his voice a quiet murmur, no longer taunting, but filled with a rare kind of sincerity.
Sylus tilts his head, his lips brushing lightly against Ross’s ear as he speaks, the heat of the moment finally spilling over into something more tender.]
I’ll give you what you want, [he whispers, his hand slipping higher, pressing into the warmth of his body.] Just let me take care of the rest.
ty ;; I'm sorry I'm so slow
Ross’s raw confession hits him harder than expected. For all the wealth, power, and luxury this place offers, Sylus knows the hollowness that remains when you’re denied what matters most.
Without the gleam of his red right eye, without the sharp edges of his Evol that could easily pry deeper into Ross’s soul, Sylus understands. He knows what it feels like to want something that this place, for all its opulence, cannot provide. To be surrounded by excess and yet starve for the one thing that’s just out of reach.
They're similar. No wonder they butt heads like this.
His thumb stills for the first time, a deliberate pause in the silence between them. Then, with a quiet, measured intent, Sylus’s hand slips further beneath the barely-there fabric of Ross’s robe, fingertips grazing over the smooth skin of his thigh. His touch is softer now, intimate in a way that isn't just physical but grounded in something deeper. He traces the fold where Ross’s thigh meets the rest of his body, his fingers lingering just at the edge, knowing but not rushing.
His gaze softens, studying Ross’s face for any sign of fear or doubt, but what he sees is the same raw want mirrored in his own. Sylus leans in slightly, his voice a quiet murmur, no longer taunting, but filled with a rare kind of sincerity.
Sylus tilts his head, his lips brushing lightly against Ross’s ear as he speaks, the heat of the moment finally spilling over into something more tender.]
I’ll give you what you want, [he whispers, his hand slipping higher, pressing into the warmth of his body.] Just let me take care of the rest.