ニクス

pairing: leon kennedy x reader (ft other re characters) summary: 4 times the team notices something's up with leon and the 1 time they figure it out (spoiler: he's married) genre: fluff

Claire notices the ring by accident.

They’re in the middle of a debrief. Multiple papers are spread across the table, coffee’s gone cold, and Leon is leaning back in his chair with one arm slung over the backrest, listening quietly and absorbing the information seamlessly. He isn’t speaking much, nodding occasionally, eyes flicking between whoever’s speaking.

It’s when he reaches forward to slide a document closer that the light catches on his hand.

Claire raises an eyebrow in curiosity. 

A ring.

It’s a casual band, not decorated with gems. It sits on his ring finger on his left hand. The hand. 

She blinks, certain she’s mistaken. Leon doesn’t wear jewelry. He never has, especially with the type of work they do. 

The conversation flows around her, but she’s no longer following along. Her eyes drift back to his hand, specifically the finger, tracking the movement as he flips a page, as he gestures to a chart as he makes a point. She feels like if she rubs her eyes or looks away for too long, it’ll vanish. 

It doesn’t.

By the time the meeting finishes, Claire convinced herself that she needs confirmation.

Everyone rushes out of the conference room, ready to start working. Sherry’s halfway out the door when Claire catches her wrist, tugging her back into the conference room.

“Did you see that?” Claire asks, lowering her voice. Leon’s hearing is freakishly good. 

Sherry frowns. “See what?”

Claire tilts her head toward the conference room, where Leon is still inside gathering his things. “His hand.”

Sherry squints, trying to follow. “What about it?”

“There’s a ring,” Claire deadpans. “On his left hand.”

Sherry’s expression sparks with curiosity immediately. “No way.”

“I’m serious.”

They both glance back to the man in question. Leon slips his jacket on, rolling his shoulders slightly, trying to ease the tension out of them, completely unaware of the scrutiny.

Sherry leans closer to her, whispering. “Maybe it’s nothing.”

“On that finger?” Claire raises an eyebrow. “That’s not nothing.”

Sherry purses her lips together. “Okay, but if he was married, we’d know, right?”

Claire scoffs. “Would we?”

Sherry frowns a bit at that. Leon’s always been private, sure. It’s a known fact that he likes to keep things to himself. Almost to his detriment. 

Still.

“Maybe the ring only fits on that finger,” Sherry suggests. “Or he doesn’t know the meaning of the finger. Or-”

“Sherry, Leon’s not that stupid.”

They look at each other, then watch as Leon finally walks up to them near the door. He gives them a nod and a small smile only reserved for those closest to him.

“Everything good?” he asks.

Claire nods automatically. “Yeah. Just… talking.”

He raises a brow. He can tell there’s something more, but he doesn’t press. He never does. Instead, he lifts a hand in a casual wave and heads down the hall, footsteps steady as they echo.

The ring glints once more before he disappears around the corner.

Claire exhales slowly, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Sherry turns to her, eyes wide. “Okay, that’s weird.”

Claire crosses her arms, still staring at the empty space where he stood. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “That’s really weird.”

–

Sherry doesn’t mean to see it either.

She’s leaving a lot later than usual, caught up in paperwork that refused to end, and by the time she finally makes her way out to the parking lot, the sky has already started to darken.

She’s halfway to her car when the low hum of an engine draws her attention.

The Porsche is hard to miss.

Leon’s leaning casually against it, one hand resting on the roof, the other tucked into his pocket. He checks his watch, then glances toward the entrance.

Sherry slows her steps without thinking, curiosity pulling her attention in that direction.

A few seconds later, someone steps out.

It’s a woman.

Sherry frowns slightly, instinctively trying to put a name to her. She doesn’t recognize her from the office, and she’s certain she would remember if she had. The woman moves towards the black car, spotting Leon immediately.

He straightens as she approaches. Sherry notes that his shoulders relax, his lips curve upward, and his attention narrows entirely onto her.

They exchange a few words that Sherry can’t hear from where she stands, but the woman smiles, bright and wide, and Leon mirrors it. Sherry hasn’t seen him smile like that in a while. Then, without hesitation, he opens the passenger door for her.

Sherry’s eyes widen even more.

She watches as the woman slips into the seat, as Leon closes the door behind her and circles around to the driver’s side, as he glances at his passenger one more time before getting in.

The engine hums again, and the Porsche pulls away with the rev of the engine.

Sherry stands there, dumbfounded, for a few seconds. She blinks, shaking herself out of it, and hurries the rest of the way to her car.

–

Chris figures out something’s off when Leon turns him down.

It isn’t the first time they’ve gone for drinks after a long day, and it certainly isn’t the first time Chris has been the one to suggest it. It’s a routine that the two found themselves performing regularly, a way to digest everything they… deal with. Plus, Chris likes that Leon and him have similar tastes in drinks and bar establishments. 

So, when Chris finds himself itching for a glass of whiskey, he doesn’t think twice.

They’re walking out of the building together, the afternoon sun casting long shadows on the pavement. Chris wraps up his story of the most recent mission he went on. 

“Hey,” Chris asks, glancing over. “I’m probably gonna head over to the bar and drink a glass or two. You in?” 

Leon looks at him, but pauses for a second before responding. Chris has never seen him hesitate like this.

Then, Leon shakes his head. “Can’t tonight.”

Chris slows to a stop, circling around to stand in front of Leon. “You’ve got something going on?”

Leon nods, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. Already made plans.”

Chris just stands there and stares. Leon’s response is… unusual. 

“Alright,” he says, shrugging it off. “Rain check.”

“Definitely,” Leon replies. “Next round’s on me.” 

They reach the parking lot, and Chris watches as Leon veers slightly, heading toward his sleek, black Porsche parked a little further down. 

Chris leans against his own car for a moment, arms crossed, as Leon unlocks the door. There’s a brief pause before Leon gets in and he’s checking something, looks like his phone at a message. Chris swears he sees a glimpse of a smile as Leon slides into the driver’s seat and pulls away.

Chris watches until the car disappears from view.

Plans, he thinks. Leon has plans.

He huffs out a small breath, shaking his head as he pushes himself off the car and reaches for his keys.

“Since when?”

–

Jill would’ve missed it if she hadn’t been paying attention.

Her and Leon stop for a coffee break in between briefings, a rare, small pocket of time. The place is small, a few blocks away from the usual rush of the main streets, and they wait silently in line, comfortable. Whenever it’s just them two, there’s not much chatter. 

It’s their turn to order, and Leon, the gentleman that he is, offers to pay for her drink. When the cashier echoes their total, Leon reaches into his leather jacket for his wallet.

This catches her attention as her eyes focus on his expensive leather black wallet. Jill remembers when Sherry bought him that for his birthday. It’s worn, slightly shedding at one corner, but it’s just proof that it’s well loved. She sees his hand flip open the wallet, reaching for a couple of bills in the pocket. 

That’s when she notices. There’s a photograph tucked into the clear sleeve.

It catches her attention before she can stop herself. 

Leon doesn’t seem to notice. Like it’s always been there. He pulls out the cash, hands it over, thanks the barista, all with the politeness he always has. The wallet stays open long enough for Jill to see the photo. 

A woman.

She’s close to him in the picture, leaning into his side. Leon’s arm is around her shoulders, a curve of his smile. The photo is domestic and warm, she feels like she’s intruding an intimate moment by just looking at it. 

Jill looks away before he can catch her staring, but the warm feeling from the photo stays. 

The baristas call their names and hand over their cups. The warmth radiates through the cardboard sleeve. As they step outside, a breeze goes by, making her shiver at the difference in temperature. 

“Since when do you carry photos?” she asks. 

Leon pauses mid-step, glancing at her. They both know what she’s referring to. “Since a while ago.”

Jill tilts her head slightly. “You’ve been holding out on us.”

He huffs a soft laugh, shaking his head. “It’s nothing like that.”

Jill puts her arms up in fake surrender. She doesn’t push further even though curiosity pulls at her. She knows that in this line of work, there are just some things you want to protect. Keep to yourself.

As they part ways, she finds herself glancing back at him.

Leon slips his wallet back into his jacket, the photograph hidden once more.

–

Grace decides she’s had enough.

By the time everyone’s all in the same room again, the pieces started to come together. Claire and Sherry are big gossips, talking about Leon’s mysterious woman, and Grace, being the FBI agent she is, needs to come to a conclusion. Now.

Leon, for his part, is completely at ease.

He’s seated at the table, flipping through a file, either unaware or unconcerned with the glances everyone’s been giving him. 

Grace leans back in her chair, arms crossed, studying him.

“So,” she coughs, cutting through the low hum of conversation. “Leon, are you seeing anyone?”

The room hushes immediately. Claire and Sherry’s mouths open wide in shock, Chris hides a smirk under his hand, and Jill simply looks up from the paper in her hand. 

Leon looks up, blinking once, caught off guard by the directness. He closes the file, setting it aside on the table.

“Yeah,” he admits.

Claire leans forward. “Yeah?”

Sherry’s eyes are practically sparkling with anticipation. Chris watches with an even bigger smirk, and Jill remains still, observant.

Grace raises an eyebrow. “You want to elaborate on that?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” he shrugs.

“It’s a huge deal,” Claire argues. “You’ve been acting weird for weeks.”

“Weeks?” Chris repeats. “Try months.”

Sherry points at him. “You have a ring.”

Jill adds, “And a photo.”

Grace nods. “And apparently a whole secret life that we don’t know about.”

Leon glances between all of them, realizing very quickly that there’s no easy way out of this.

“…I’m married.”

For a second, no one reacts. Leon sees all of the wheels in their heads turning, digesting what he just said. He can physically see the lightbulbs in their heads go off. 

“You’re what?” Claire blurts out.

“Since when?” Chris demands.

“Married?” Sherry echoes, incredulous.

Jill just shakes her head, a small, disbelieving smile tugging at her lips.

Grace leans forward. “You’re telling me you got married and didn’t tell anyone?”

Leon raises his hands slightly, as if to calm the sudden wave of reactions. “It wasn’t exactly planned.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” Claire says. “It actually kinda makes it worse.”

“We would have come,” Sherry trails off, sounding a little offended. “You didn’t even give us the chance.”

Chris crosses his arms. “You kept this from all of us?”

Leon hesitates, searching for the right words. Everyone in this very room is the closest thing he has to a family. 

“We… were in a rush.” he finally answers. “It happened before I left for Wrenwood. There wasn’t time for anything big, and we probably didn’t want anything big anyway.”

Grace studies him. “So you just decided to get married in secret.”

“I thought I was dying, okay?” Leon defends himself. “I just wanted to marry her.” 

Claire exhales sharply, running a hand through her hair. “Unbelievable.”

Sherry shakes her head, though there’s a small smile starting to form. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us.”

Chris lets out a low sigh. “You owe us a long explanation.”

“And an introduction.” Jill leans back slightly, arms crossing. 

“Of course,” Leon shrugs. “I figured that was coming.”

Grace smiles widely. “So when do we meet her?”

“Soon.” His expression turns soft, thinking about his wife at that very moment. Everyone in the room can’t help but smile at the sight.  

And this time, no one misses the way his hand lays on top of the table, the ring catching the light, shining bright. 

˙⋆✮ pairing: warlord!sylus x non-mc reader part two

˙⋆✮ cw: MDNI! DARK, fem!reader, non-mc reader, warring states period au, historical au, warlord!sylus, second wife!reader arranged/forced marriage, marriage of convenience/political marriage, political intrigue, angst, DDDNE, it gets worse before it gets better, tw pregnancy, tw miscarriage, tw poisoning, tw manipulation, tw death, confinement, tw implied sa (not between sylus and reader), tw gaslighting, tw murder, hurt no comfort (for now), possibly OOC sylus, unbeta'd, unedited.

˙⋆✮ a/n: please mind the warnings, this continuation is going to be DARK. i kind of overdid it and went full game of thrones/historical drama. if i missed a tw or cw, please let me know so i can add them 🥹

Part One | Part Three (Coming Soon) | LADs Masterlist | AO3

six months into your marriage, mei's sister arrives at court.

lingyue carries a portrait of mei everywhere, her eyes perpetually red-rimmed with grief. 

she's delicate, soft-spoken, devoted to her sister's memory. 

she introduces herself as mei’s former lady in waiting and attendant to luke and kieran, apologizing tearfully for still finding it difficult to speak of her loss.

she tells you mei was everything. 

how mei was beautiful, wise, and kind. the boys adored her. lord sylus loved her so much. they were so happy. she looks at you with pity, telling you how difficult it must be, from being a hostage to becoming sylus' second wife, and following such a woman like her sister.

the words land like small knives, each one precisely placed.

you assure her you are not trying to replace mei. she smiles sadly, agreeing that of course you couldn't, how could anyone, she just worries about the boys needing stability and familiar faces. 

you have no reason to refuse when she asks to continue caring for them.

Soft petals dance on the wind and land in your hair. He chuckles softly as he brushes them aside, stirring you awake. Your face scrunches up, consciousness starting to set in, but Sylus shushes you and pulls your head back in against his chest and tells you to go back to sleep. A minute of his humming, and you're slipping away again

Your child has slipped away from the Twin's babysitting, running barefoot over to the bench. Sylus has to gently shush them, too, telling them to be quiet, it's your naptime, as he helps them up into his lap. They curl up against him, staring at you and the round swell of your belly. They look up at him, pointing at it

"My new baby brother is in there?"

He smiles, nods. "Or baby sister."

They stare again. "How does it fit?"

"They're very small right now," he whispers. "You were once that size."

"Really?" they gasp

"Mhm."

You stir with a small sound of discomfort. Sylus holds you closer, rubbing soothing circles over your bump. He feels the source; this baby has been restless, kicking his poor dear so often you don't get to sleep at night

Your child frowns in worry as they watch on. "What's wrong with mama?"

Sylus kisses their head reassuringly. "The baby is moving around. It can be uncomfortable. Do you want to feel it?"

They nod excitedly. He takes their little hand and guides it over the last spot he felt it. They wait a moment together. Then- kick! Your child jolts a little in surprise at the feeling, pulling their hand back with a gasp that has Sylus chuckling to himself. He reacted much the same way the first time he felt them kick in the womb. You'd laughed at the concern on his face, just before another kick knocked the wind out of you. He smiles fondly at the memory, at the joy of being new parents

You stir again, and he returns to comforting you. He taps your child on the back. "Run along and play now," he says. "Mama needs to keep resting."

They nod and slip off his lap. They look at you and your swollen belly a moment longer, before running off, back to tormenting the Twins

Sylus gently rocks the swing back and forth, back and forth, humming a song once more. It's one you'd introduced him to, though you'd never recognize it. You haven't cared for a long time about that, though; you just like the way his voice sounds

Summary: You’re desperately in love with a man who already belongs to another.

Ikigai (n.) (Japanese): "A reason for being," the thing that gets you up in the morning.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6

You awake to Sylus next to you. You aren’t cuddled up in his arms like you were a few days ago. Rather, he cradles one of your hands in his. It’s surrounded in his warmth.

You’re half tempted to keep it that way, to soak in this little moment because you know that odds are you won’t be getting many of these in the near future. You ignore that part of you and carefully remove your hand from his.

He tries to resist, even while in deep slumber (the man’s always slept like the dead since you started regularly sleeping in the same room). It’s adorable, like he can’t bare to let you go so much that it shows up in his sleep. You smile down at him drowsily.

You move your other hand to stroke his hair. Sylus thankfully doesn’t stir awake. You need this moment to yourself. Because while you’re still hurt by his words, you’ve missed his touch. You’ve missed the quiet moments of intimacy the two of you would have with each other daily.

Somedays you’d curl up on one of the couches as you’d read a book to him, either because he was being lazy that day or because it was in a language he didn’t speak (you learned many languages during your time in the auction and wandering about). Others you’d just sit in the living room together, him disassembling and reassembling a gun while you cut a jewel he got you from a client. On rare occasions, you’d dance with him and the twins early in the morning playing some obscure vinyl record.

Small moments were what made up you two’s relationship. Small moments that mean the world to you. You twirl a lock of his hair on your finger, just letting yourself relax.

Sylus’ stirring shatters the quiet scene. You jerk your hand away as fast as possible. Seeing those crimson eyes again just reminds you of what he said.

“Have you awaken, sleeping beauty?” You tease.

Your voice is hoarse. And Sylus quickly moves to grab you some water. You take small sips, surprised by how abused your throat feels.

I wasn’t asleep for that long, was I?

Sylus, sensing your confusion, whispers, “You were screaming before you passed out.”

You flush at his words. Screaming? You don’t remember doing that.

You stare down at the cup in your hands. Despite Sylus’ gentle tone and expression, you couldn’t help but be embarrassed. Having a mental breakdown was bad enough. But screaming your lungs out to the point of hurting your voice? That was just pathetic.

“Maybe I finally cracked under the weight of my foolish boss and his many messes?”

Your words are meant to be light-hearted; they do the exact opposite. Sylus’ face falls, and you watch his thread thrash like a wild animal. It’s alive with a storm of emotion. And you caused it.

The more vengeful part of you is satisfied by this. He’s caused you so much turmoil over the past few days. A little pain could do him good. He’s lied to you, and broken your heart. Not that he knows the latter or how deep the former goes.

Because despite working and being with Sylus for so long, you’ve never told him the truth. Not about your abilities nor about your past. Sure, you’ve told him bits and pieces, little stories about your childhood and what you did for work before Onychinus. But not the hard stuff.

You’ve never told him about the depth of the abandonment, of the betrayal of so many. You’ve never told him how far your loneliness runs. You’ve never told him that you have no soulmate. You’ve never told him what you could see.

You’ve wanted to. Many times, in fact, have the words almost slipped past your lips. But you’ve never let them truly fall out. Because why would you tempt history repeating itself?

“You changed my clothes?” You break the tension with a silly question.

The large, fancy black shirt smells of him. Of his cologne, and the unique scent that is Sylus. It clings to your skin. You love it.

“We both know mine suit you better, Gamayun.”

His voice isn’t as steady as usual. It trembles.

“Are you insulting my preferences?”

You turn to him.

“No. Just saying that mine will always be better.”

He looks at you with a soft expression. His hands drift to yours, fingers encircling your wrists and allowing the rest of your hands to sit on his palms. His eyes never leave yours during this. He’s studying you for any discomfort or any sign of you not wanting his touch. As if you ever could.

When you accept his touch, his eyes light up. The smile he gives you melts your heart.

“Keep telling yourself that foolish man.”

It’s a beat of silence between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, Gamayun,” you almost don’t hear what he says. “I’m so sorry.”

Sylus’ head is bowed to you. He looks so small at the foot of the bed. You want to reach out and hold him, cradle him in your arms and let him be safe there. Just like you did the first time you two got drunk together and just talked about your pasts.

You think that was the moment you started falling for him: when you realized there was someone just as lonely and broken as you. Him, the last fiend, and you, the only person to ever be born without a soulmate. Him, blessed with the power to see people’s desires, and you, cursed to see the love which you can never have.

It’s poetic. And it hurts. It hurts how perfect you are for one another, but the universe decided against you two.

The feeling of Sylus’ eyes on you reminds you that you haven’t responded to his plea. He doesn’t reach out to touch you. It feels strangely empty. But you suppose it’s best you get used to this now rather than later.

“I don’t accept,” you force out.

You turn your head away from Sylus. Seeing whatever expression he has on his face now will weaken your resolve.

“Oh,” the small sound Sylus lets out is beyond painful.

“Yes, “oh,”” you dig your heart’s and your relationship with Sylus’ grave further with each word out of your mouth. “Did you think a simple apology would make me happy?”

Under normal circumstances, yes. If Sylus had said practically anything else to you during your argument, than an apology probably could’ve soothed you. But he said those words, those cursed words. The words that’ve torn through so many of your relationships. The words that rendered promises meaningless and time worthless.

He said those words. And thus, you don’t have it in your heart to forgive him.

“You can’t smooth this over like usual.”

Sylus wilts the more you speak. The large, imposing, figure he stouts shrinks upon your every word. You keep your eyes away from him, as if ignoring him will make the pain of what you’re doing soften.

“You’ve betrayed my trust, Sylus,” you say his name firmly as a reminder to yourself and him to not waiver and keep the boundary you’ve set up. “You’ve betrayed it in such a way I didn’t think you of all people could.”

Saying it aloud makes the hurt fresh all over again. It makes you go back to all the times where you’ve been in this position. All the times where people you thought cared for you hurt you the second they found their soulmate.

And the more it hurts, the more you laugh at yourself. You knew this would happen. You knew the second you fell in love with him this would happen.

But you still act like a victim. You still hurt the man you love because he committed the simple crime of loving his soulmate instead of you.

“I just need you to trust me on this. Please. This will all be over soon.”

Over because he’ll leave you, that dark, annoying, voice in your head whispers. Over because he’ll abandon you like all the rest.

“It is you who doesn’t trust me, Sylus. That’s how this all started. You didn’t trust me, which caused my trust in you to waver. I do not need to do anything for you.”

“How can I fix this?”

“Telling me the truth would be a start.”

He says nothing. You fall apart every second he doesn’t speak.

Why? Why are you so willing to protect her?

You ask the question despite knowing the answer: because soulmates are everything. You’ll never compare to her.

“Than can you even say you’re truly sorry? Or are you just trying to appease me?”

“Of course not. You know I never say anything I don’t mean.”

“So you meant to use those words exactly? You meant to shut me out? You meant to permanently warp our relationship?”

“That’s not what I—“

“Than what did you mean, Sylus?” You spit out his name like it’s poison; he flinches like you stabbed him. “Because that’s what I think you meant. We had a deal when I came to work for you, with you. And you broke it.”

Sylus whipped to face you. He has a wild look in his eyes, and his lips begin to quiver. It’s as if he can guess your next words.

“You gave me your word that you’d never lie to me. You promised me. And yet you’ve done exactly that.”

You take a shaky breath before you land the death blow, “I have every right to walk out of here, right here, right now.”

Sylus’ hand zip out to grab you by the shoulders. He forces you to face him. You could almost cry from how scared he looks. There’s an almost feral glow in his gaze, like the dragon he once was is bleeding into view again but just through his eyes. As if you’re some important piece of his hoard and someone’s trying to take you.

It burns you to do this to him. Because abandonment and loneliness is something the two of you bonded on. But broken trust is also something you bonded on. And he broke yours. And he’ll continue to break it for her.

“You either tell me the truth, or….”

“Or what?” Sylus sounds choked up, as if he’s about to cry.

“I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll leave. Or maybe I’ll just stop being your Gamayun. I haven’t decided yet.”

You try to breath to steady yourself, your entire body vibrating with that one inhale, before finishing, “But none of that will happen if you just tell me the truth.”

“It is the truth. What I have with her and what I have with you cannot be compared.”

You say nothing more. You knew that; by God, you knew that. But it still hurts.

Why?

Why is he so willing to go so far for the woman who killed him? He’d risk you, his partner, for her. Lie to you. Hurt you. Betray you.

Leave you, a voice in your head says.

But not her. Not his killer. He’ll protect her no matter the cost. But you? You’re nothing. You’re nothing compared to the woman that he let take his life. Would he do such a thing for you?

No.

He knows she killed him. Murdered him. Shoved a claymore deep into his chest and ripped his life from him.

But he still loves her.

How could you possibly compete with that?

You quickly sit up further in Sylus’ bed to swing your legs to side of it. You needed to get up. You couldn’t stew in these thoughts any longer.

“Where… where are you going? Why are you running off?”

“And what would telling you accomplish? You have your secrets, I have mine.”

Sylus pulls back as if you’ve burned him. It’s a low blow, sure, but you’re no longer in a state to care. You just need to get out. So even though all you wear is his shirt, undergarments, and loose shorts, you leave the room. A brief glimpse of the closet you share with him reminds you that you’ll have to move your stuff soon.

Wouldn’t do good for Miss Hunter to see that. She’ll misunderstand.

Just like you’ve misunderstood. You’re not his. He’s not yours.

Author's Note: sort of comfort (?) next chapter. Not from Sylus though...

I'm so fucking mean.

Summary: You’re desperately in love with a man who already belongs to another.

Ikigai (n.) (Japanese): "A reason for being," the thing that gets you up in the morning.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

The mess inside your head is interrupted by noise. Noise coming from the entrance and sounding suspiciously like the twins. And you smile. Dealing with them and whatever nonsense they’ve gotten themselves into will provide a great distraction. So you pick up the pace and hurry to them.

The sight before you is a bit comedic: Miss Hunter and the twins. Or rather, Miss Hunter walking towards the exit of the base with the twins snickering behind her.

“Luke. Kieran. Whatever in the world are you doing?”

All three of them turn to face you. Miss Hunter has a brief look of relief on her face before it shifts to guilt.

“I… can explain?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

You laugh a little at her startled expression; you just couldn’t help teasing her. The way she freely expresses herself is adorable. You can read her like a book. And she provides something to take your mind off Sylus, despite being his soulmate.

Stop that. Don’t go there.

You shake off your thoughts as you watch Luke waves what appears to be a pen behind Miss Hunter.

“Apparently this was meant to be a new dangerous weapon made by the Hunters’ Association. Mean ole Miss Hunter here threatened us with it, so we had no choice but to bring her here, Lady Boss.”

Normally, any threat to the twins would set you off. And judging by Luke’s smug attitude, he expected as much. Kieran just walks over to you while shaking his head at his twin’s actions.

You just laugh. Not a full belly laugh, but a small one. Luke pouts (not that you can see his face, but you can just tell). Kieran tilts his head at you, and it reminds you of Mephisto. You imagine he’s somewhere observing this interaction.

And Mephisto means Sylus. And Sylus means heartbreak, the exact thing you came out here to avoid.

You chastise your thoughts, straighten your back, and face the chaos before you.

“What?” Miss Hunter’s so flustered you can’t hold back a smile. “I wanted out.”

“You could’ve just called for me. I told, I’d let you go anywhere. No questions. No fuss. And no “dangerous” new hunter weapons needed.”

The twins snicker. You take the pen from Luke, and pretend to look at it carefully.

“Wherever did you get such a “weapon” anyway?”

“You’re asking me where I got a pen?” She’s incredulous.

“Yes. Luke and Kieran don’t tend to carry them. And there certainly isn’t any as dastardly as a pen lying around the base.”

The twins snicker more. Miss Hunter’s cheeks puff out before she huffs.

“Oh. You’re making fun of me.”

“Am I? I’m genuinely curious.”

Miss Hunter just stares at you. You stare back, smile on your face and twirling the pen between your fingers.

“I had it on me,” she finally coughs out.

“Ah. I see.”

You walk up to her, and slip the pen into her pocket. Miss Hunter just gives you a look.

“What? I’m returning your weapon to you.”

“Are you ever going to stop with that?”

Her tone doesn’t match the smile that threatens to cross her face. She even turns to face you more, relaxed and open, even with the glares she occasionally shoots the twins. Said twins are just cackling behind you.

“The pen is mightier than the sword, my friend. Or, I guess gun would be more appropriate for you. You don’t seem like the sword type.”

Miss Hunter playfully shoves you. And you briefly wonder what it is you did to get her to be so… normal and fun with you.

Maybe some good can come from my little episode earlier.

Your throat still tightens at the thought. The sword in Sylus. Your own feelings of desperation. The way the world seemed to squeeze and chain your lungs.

It’s not something you’ll be forgetting any time soon.

A familiar sound thankfully brings you out of your thoughts. You’re not so thankful for it once your brain registers what’s causing it. Or, rather, who.

Sylus leans against his motorcycle at the entrance. Your eyes skim over his appearance. He’s far more put together than he was just a few minutes ago. And his face is hard, completely void of the pain and worry he had earlier.

One second, you two are locked in some strange staring contest. The next, his Evol is wrapping around Miss Hunter and pulling her away. You reach out for her. She just shakes her head at you, so you stop.

Sylus tosses a helmet at Miss Hunter. He looks at you with pleading eyes, as if searching for your reaction. You ignore him and instead try to comfort his struggling soulmate. You do deign to give Sylus your gaze like he clearly wants. But you only do so to give him the coldest look you can muster.

He flinches. The twisted side of you is happy. He gets to feel a fraction of the hurt you’ve been carrying.

“We’re going out,” he turns to face the twins as he forces her onto his motorcycle “We’ll be back soon.”

Sylus doesn’t even spare you a glance before they speed off. You stare at the place they once stood with a wistful expression.

“Um… Lady Boss?” Kieran taps his hand on your arm cautiously, his brother fidgeting beside him.

“Hmm?” You respond, heading back inside and towards Sylus’ room.

“Are you and Boss-man fighting?” Luke asks this time.

His words make you falter. While it isn’t entirely surprising that the twins would notice something is up between you and Sylus, it still messes with you. They have to suffer because of your issues. They’re affected by the adults in their in lives not getting along.

And here I thought this would never happen.

The boys have known nothing but instability and pain before you took them in. And you vowed to make sure they never experienced that again. Yet here you were, scrambling for the right words to convince them that everything is fine and nothing was wrong.

“Luke!”

“What? They’ve been acting weird for a while.”

Kieran puts his head between his hands, a gesture not unlike the one you do when Sylus says or does something especially stupid. Luke ignores him, much like Sylus does when you put your head in your hands because of his stupid actions.

“How so?”

Luke and Kieran look at each other for a moment.

“Normally you two can’t your hands off each other. Now, you can’t even stand to be in a room with Boss-man for long.”

You wince at Luke’s words. Kieran elbows his twin before he turns to you.

“You make us sound like trashy romcom couple.”

“You are,” they both say.

You chuckle at them, “We are not.”

Silence falls between you three for a moment. Then, Kieran speaks up.

“Doesn’t change the fact that there’s something go on between the two of you.”

He and his twin both step closer to you. Even Luke has dropped the joking atmosphere. So you do too, ready to convince them.

You mean lie to them, the annoying voice in your head says.

“Why do you say that?”

“I just told you Lady Boss: you avoid Boss-man like the plague.”

Because he is one, you almost say, clinging to the usual banter and silliness you have with the twins. But you stifle yourself before the words come out.

“Give me examples, boys.”

“You don’t sleep in the same room,” Luke says.

“You don’t eat off each other’s plates,” Kieran speaks this time.

“Boss-man isn’t standing right beside you right now,” the two speak together now.

“So something’s up,” Kieran concludes.

“Alright, alright. You got me.”

The boys puff out their chests in pride. You smile.

“But in case you haven’t noticed, we have a unique guest in our house at the moment. And I don’t want to give the poor woman the wrong impression of my relationship to Sylus.”

“Why’s that?” They both ask.

Because she’s his soulmate. Because she’s everything to him, and I’m just his business partner that’s tragically in love with him.

“Because I need her to trust me. You three fools already kidnapped her. Nothing good will come out of her thinking she’s all alone with no one to support her.”

“Okay. That makes sense.”

You almost let a sigh of relief pass your lips. But Luke’s question stifles it.

“But than why is Boss-man groveling to you?”

“Groveling? He has not been groveling.”

“He makes your favorite meals more often,” Luke says.

“He plays your favorite records,” Kieran speaks up.

“He stays out of fights,” they speak in sync again.

Your hear warms at their words, little reminders of what Sylus has done over the past few days. He’s always been weirdly doting of you, even when your partnership was new. When you got closer, it got more intense.

Random days off. Card games and wine at 3 am. Karaoke and dancing that he swears he hates but does because it makes you smile. Him giving you new gems and equipment to make whatever piece strike your fancy. The list goes on and on.

It’s been more intense since your fight. Any business you have is up to your discretion to attend. He results to violence only when absolutely necessary, and not when he’s bored. He does the boring parts of his job: paperwork, meetings, the works.

He tells you everything, even when you don’t ask. The smallest detail and the biggest plans are all things you know. He talks to you despite the fact that you don’t say anything to him. He texts you even though all you do is leave him on read.

He just won’t broach one subject: Miss Hunter. It’s as if he’s trying to make her disappear from your life.

“We had a fight about Miss Hunter,” is all you can think of to say.

The twins go silent at that. And you regret your words instantly.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“What exactly did he do? Because if he upset you, we can avenge you.” Luke, the chaotic boy that he is, has an eager voice when he suggests this.

“Yeah. Boss-man won’t know what hit him.” His brother, while more calm, is just as eager.

“He’ll be begging for mercy,” they say together.

You imagine the sparkle in their eyes as they say this. You imagine it, and you mouth widens from the smile that image causes.

The twins look at you expectantly. They’re waiting, hoping, for you to say something. To tell them what happened. To let them help you as you’ve helped them.

You almost tell them. You almost tell your boys about the words Sylus told you and the pain they caused. They’d understand. As two people who grew up with no one but each other to rely on, they’d understand.

But the more you look at them, body language telling you that they’re desperate and want to help you, the more you shove that feeling down. You couldn’t do that to them. So instead you do something else.

“Your mask is crooked,” you adjust Luke’s mask as you speak, patented smile on your face; Luke lifts his own hands to cover yours, something he and his brother have seen Sylus do to you multiple times.

It gnaws at. Claws and scrapes like the talons of the bird the mask is based on.

That simple touch reminds you of why starting over this time would be so hard: the twins. Luke and Kieran respected and listened to you more than Sylus at times. You were the one to save them. You made them their masks. You helped them pull their first prank. You bandaged them up after their first job.

The twins were your family far before you loved Sylus. And they’ll be your family far after he abandons you for his own love.

That’s why you say, “Everything is as it should be between me and Sylus. Things have just been a bit hectic with Miss Hunter’s arrival, and it caused a bit of an argument. Everything’ll be back to normal in no time. I’ll even go right now and make something for a new prank you can pull when it does.”

It’s a lie. A cruel and unjust lie. The “normal” of you and Sylus’ relationship has been shattered.

But a slower transition is needed.

You can’t just go cold turkey; your heart won’t handle it, and the twins will just ask more questions otherwise.

With your plan in place, and the twins satisfied for now, you leave. You pass by the room Miss Hunter’s staying in, and a thought occurs to you. And you make mental sketches of your plan on your way to your destination.

Alone in your workshop crafting a gift for Sylus’ soulmate isn’t a position you thought you’d ever be in. When you first came to work for him, his soulmate was the last thing on your mind.

When you began to get closer to him, you vowed to make the two of them happy no matter the cost.

When you began to have a crush on him, you selfishly wished for all your heart that his soulmate would never appear.

When you fell in love with him, you cried yourself to sleep knowing that once again you’d have to break your own heart for someone else’s happiness. And that this time, you’d do it with a smile on your face, with no regrets. You’ll play your part in their love story, and then you’ll leave.

But how?

Because unlike all the other times you’ve packed up your life, you’re needed here. As a business partner and for the twins. They deserved better than you walking out simply due to a falling out between you and Sylus. And, judging by your conversation from earlier, they already sensed something was off. They already feared the worst.

Your hands remember the grip they both had on them. Strong and unwavering. Much like the grip they had the first night they stayed at the base. Much like they still do to this day when you had solo missions. Sure, they worked for Sylus, but they were your boys.

You gave them their masks when you found out they were afraid of their own reflections. You built them all their tools and gadgets, even the more outlandish ones you knew were solely for pranks. You gave them their freedom.

So how in the world could you just leave?

As you stare at the earrings you’re making, an idea hits you. Miss Hunter. She’ll be your protege.

She’s already taken my place in Sylus’ heart. Why not extend that?

You smile to yourself as you set the jewels. It’s a grim and hopeless smile you haven’t had for quite sometime. But you cling to it all the same. You need this smile. Just like you need to leave your family behind. Again.

Tears fall down your face, but you ignore them. It’s what you do best.

Not explicitly a birthday phone call but I don’t care.

warnings for the series: smut (only part two), mid violence (generally not explicit)

warnings for this chapter: referred violence. mentions of decapitation (non explicit), suggestive, kinda manipulation from sylus? i swear the fluff comes on the next

part one - part two - part three

You keep your head low, eyes fixed on the luxurious floor, decorated with golden flowers and red jewels. All this luxury, the velvety curtains the guards made to a side for you to enter, the shining of a golden vase in a near rich wood table, the scent of the most aromatic vanilla, makes you dizzy. You can't hear steps, you can't hear nothing, as if the whole chamber became silent to make your heartbeat even more noticeable. The guards that brought you here less than half an hour ago are also silent, as they were while you spent time on the Harem with the rest of the concubines. After dressing up, a strong voice called you, your name, out of all the concubines. All the chats from the room became silence, as all the concubines looked directly at you. You were called. You were summoned. You.

DILF! sylus who’s your newly moved neighbour that you simply can’t stop being curious about. The moment you saw him at the house warming party you went to with your family, you couldn’t stop yourself from catching repeated glances at him, often mentally reprimanding yourself to stop gawking at him. But another part of you couldn’t resist to, taking in his defined features into your memory. His sculpted nose, striking sharp crimson eyes narrowed to slits by default that you noticed softened a fraction whenever he looked at you. His older age seemed to play no factor in his looks, more so his well kept body which you could very well see from the fit clothes he often wore beneath his coats.

DILF! sylus who simply couldn’t resist chuckling beneath his breath whenever you ran off when he caught your gaze from a distance, the sight of your flustered expression urging him to follow after you. He had to play a good host and make sure his guest was well, after all. What kind of host would he if one of his guests are even the slightest bit in discomfort?

DILF! sylus who intends on relieving your discomfort by bending you over the arm of his couch, keeping a hand over your mouth from behind while cooing reassurances and praise, reminding you with a reasonable spank on your plump rear whenever you got too loud that the rest of the guests out in his courtyard might hear. He would never call your eager hips fucking back onto his cock slutty, nor your moans. But his actions would certainly make sure you’d feel it, utter erotica that brought you shame which only fuelled your pleasure. Alternating fingers past your lips and making you suck on them, choke on them to purposely have you whine louder.

DILF! sylus who’d make sure he’s bullying his girth inside your tight channel with long, deep strokes, putting his free hand to use by grabbing and squeezing the curve of your ass relentlessly, undoubtedly leaving crescent marks and slaps that would leave their own remnants the next morning. He’d tug you closer against him, tilting your head up with the hand he kept over your lips, making sure your sobbing expression would be exposed for anyone to see would any of them enter the living room. But that wouldn’t happen, he’d be balls buried inside your spasming pussy first, dick pulsating as jet and jet of scalding hot cum painted your womb, triggering your own inevitable orgasm that would leave you limp and quivering in the aftermath.

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Crack Post Masterlist here

Presented by Luke and Kieran

LUKE: Welcome to what may or may not be the most intense emotional hostage situation of the year—also known as Sylus’ Birthday Month.

KIERAN: That’s right. We don’t know when the man was born. Could be today. Could be tomorrow. Could’ve crawled out of an ancient crater. Who’s to say?

LUKE: So instead of not celebrating, like normal people, we decided to take the completely rational route and throw him a birthday... every single goddamn day.

KIERAN: You’re welcome.

LUKE: Some say it’s overkill. Some say it’s harassment.

KIERAN: He deserves to be celebrated. Loudly. Repeatedly. Until he admits which day it is. Or files a restraining order. Whichever comes first.

LUKE: From surprise parties to emotionally destabilising photo albums, we went all in—because subtlety is for people who don’t cry when Sylus says “thank you” under his breath.

KIERAN: Scroll down. Witness the madness. Pick your favourite day of mayhem. And remember:

LUKE: Every day could be Sylus’ birthday. KIERAN: But every day should be a reason to love him harder.

Day 1 - Cake in the Face

Kieran shouts “SURPRISE!” and absolutely obliterates Sylus with a strawberry sponge.

Sylus: “...You’re cleaning that.”

Luke: “It’s symbolic. Like rebirth. Through cake.”

Day 2 - “Pin the Knife on the Target” Party Game

Actual knives. Actual target. It’s Luke.

Kieran is crying with joy. Sylus is annoyingly accurate.

Luke: “I saw God, and she said ‘do it again.’”

Day 3 - Custom “Best Boss” Mug

It’s hideous. Glittery. Spells “Slay Boss” on the back.

Sylus drinks from it every morning now.

Kieran faints from pride.

Day 4 - Choreographed Dance Battle

Kieran in sequins. Luke is wearing cargo pants and shame.

Music: "Toxic" by Britney Spears.

Sylus walks away. They follow him. Still dancing.

Day 5 - Themed Breakfast: “You’re My Favourite Mistake”

Black coffee. Toast burned into the shape of a gun.

Eggs scrambled like their emotional state.

Kieran made pancakes shaped like Sylus’ face. They’re terrifying.

Day 6 - A Dramatic Reading of His Texts

Luke performs it in Shakespearean dialect.

Kieran plays a violin out of tune.

Sylus: “If I murder you, is that still birthday behaviour?”

Day 7 - Surprise Parade

Three bystanders. One stolen marching drum.

Banner reads: “Happy Maybe-Born Day, Our Brooding Boss”

Sylus vanishes mid-parade. Leaves behind confetti and contempt.

Day 8 - Hot Springs Trip

Kieran books the whole place. Luke forgets towels.

Sylus sulks in the water but secretly enjoys the quiet.

Kieran wears a crown made of loofahs. No one asks why.

Day 9 - 10-Minute Therapy Session with a Goat

Kieran swears animals are healing.

Goat headbutts Luke. Kieran cheers.

Sylus feeds it quietly for 20 minutes.

Day 10 - Airhorn Wake-Up Call

At 10pm.

Luke records Sylus' scream. Makes it his ringtone.

Kieran bakes an apology pie shaped like a crow.

Day 11 - DIY Spa Night

Sylus gets cucumber eye masks and absolutely nothing else.

Luke nearly burns down the bathroom with scented candles.

Kieran offers a massage. Sylus threatens dismissal.

Day 12 - “Dress Like Sylus” Day

Luke wears all black. Kieran wears less and claims it’s accurate.

They follow him whispering, “Brooding is power.”

Sylus vanishes. Again.

Day 13 - Personalised Gun Range Session

Targets: Luke’s face.

Kieran writes “Emotions” on a target.

Sylus shoots it clean through.

Emotional breakthrough? Maybe. Everyone cries anyway.

Day 14 - Emotional Support Plushie Gifted

It’s a tiny plush dragon holding a dagger.

Luke: “It’s you, but huggable.”

Sylus: sleeps with it tucked under his arm. Never mentions it again.

Day 15 - Birthday Lullaby, Screamed

Kieran sings. Luke plays backup on a kazoo.

Neighbours file a noise complaint. Sylus bribes them to let it continue.

Day 16 - Mystery Box Day

Every hour, a new box. Could be a trinket. Could be a live crab.

Sylus opens 16 before he gives up. Luke opens the rest.

The 18th contains coffee. Sylus smiles.

Day 17 - Midnight Confessions

Luke: “You intimidate me but also I’d die for you.”

Kieran: “You’re not hard to love, Sylus. You’re just scared.”

Sylus: doesn’t speak for five minutes. Then says, “Thanks.”

Day 18 - Dragon-Themed Birthday Ball

Kieran wears wings. Luke is shirtless with red glitter.

Sylus is dragged in wearing a red, velvet suit and quiet rage.

He dances with them anyway. No one brings it up again.

Day 19 - “Things You Never Say But We Know Anyway” List

53 entries.

“You check on us even when you say you won’t.”

“You love deeply. That’s why you stay distant.”

Sylus reads the whole thing in silence. Folds it. Keeps it.

Day 20 - Mock Trial: Is Sylus Capable of Love?

Luke plays prosecution. Kieran defends.

Jury is plushies and Mephisto.

Verdict: Absolutely, tragically yes.

Day 21 - "Unsolicited Compliments Hour"

Every 5 minutes.

Kieran with a megaphone: “Your eyes look like murder. I’d die in them.”

Sylus: “I will break that megaphone.”

Kieran: “So strong. So alpha.”

Day 22 - Custom Fragrance: “Gunpowder & Longing”

Actually smells so good.

Sylus wears it. Kieran notices. Writes fanfic about it.

Luke sells bootleg versions.

Day 23 - Build-a-Weapon Workshop

Kieran bedazzles his. Luke chooses an axe.

Sylus forges a blade in silence.

It glows. Everyone agrees not to ask why.

Day 24 - Silent Movie Night: “The Tragedy of a Man Who Feels Too Much”

They reenact it live.

Sylus is portrayed by a potted plant with a stern expression.

He claps once. That’s the highest praise they’ve EVER received.

Day 25 - Spontaneous Hug Ambushes

Kieran tackles. Luke distracts.

Sylus fights them off to start.

After the 35th one, he reluctantly accepts every single one but growls during.

At the end of the day, he initiates one.

Day 26 - “Interview With the Birthday Boy”

Questions include: “Do you think you're loveable?”

Sylus: “No.”

Kieran: “Wrong. You lose. Try again.”

Day 27 - Late Night Drive to Nowhere

No plan. Just music, stars, and long silences that mean everything.

Kieran falls asleep on Sylus’ shoulder.

Luke drives. Sylus doesn't move an inch.

Day 28 - Surprise Photo Album

Polaroids. Stolen moments. Smiles he never knew he made.

One of him asleep with the new plushie.

Caption: "Proof: He does rest."

Day 29 - Night Under the Stars

They lay on a rooftop.

Luke points out fake constellations. Kieran holds Sylus’ hand.

“We don’t need to know the date,” he says. “You were born. That’s enough.”

It's awkward.

Day 30 - No surprises. Just peace.

No glitter. No screams. Just coffee.

Sylus wakes up to a quiet room.

A note: “You are loved. Even when we’re quiet about it.”

He doesn’t throw it away. Sticks it to the fridge in the armoury.

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[Zayne (Li Shen 黎深 ) + Sylus (Qin Che 秦彻)]

In Chinese culture, mothers stay and rest for a month or more after giving birth to properly recover (zuo yue zi).

Zayne (Li Shen 黎深 )

Now, while you do go on your postpartum confinement period, Zayne is a doctor and can't help but ramble about the superstitions and old wives' tales that the zuo yue zi is built on.

"There's no need to take all of these rules seriously," he couldn't help but mutter lowly. Pushing up his glasses, he said, "Currently, there is no hard scientific basis on why postpartum women shouldn't shower or bathe. However, I can see where this superstition arose. Historically, clean, hot water was very difficult for the common woman to obtain, and bathing with cold water after giving birth—"

What he does entirely believe in is that the mother of his child should be stress-free and have as much rest as possible.

Vets the Yue Sao (postpartum care nannies) like crazy.

Many of the interviewees leave thinking that it was one of the hardest job applications they've ever done.

He's a bit crazy here: looks through all of their credentials, researching the programs they've graduated from, asks for references, etc.

In the end, he agrees on a middle-aged woman with over fifteen years of experience as a Yue Sao and is a mother of three herself.

He chose her because she aligned with his thoughts of science, she didn't lean too much into traditional medicine, and had a casual personality while being firm. He knew she wouldn't push you into doing anything you didn't want to do.

For the first time since he got into medical school, Zayne Li took a complete pause from work. No emergency calls, no midday meetings. He even left his pager and work phone in his office and Akso.

Surprisingly, he doesn't go stir crazy.

Instead, he dedicates his time to learning from the Yue Sao and taking care of your baby.

You would think he's studying for another medical exam with how he asks questions, takes notes, and looks over her shoulder as she's cooking you a meal, nodding along to her instructions.

He sat beside you as your nanny did your belly binding for the first time, staring with analytical eyes while your baby was rocking in his arms.

Then, when he tried to do the belly binding on you, his first attempt ended in failure as you kept on giggling, ruining your progress. You couldn't help but mess him up, you were too busy staring at the father of your child with such love in your eyes.

However, he does have one insecurity. Traditionally, the mother should prevent herself from being cold as much as possible, bundling up, and covering her feet and shoulders.

Zanye couldn't help but think that with his Evol—he might cause you or the baby long-term health issues. He'll wear gloves, a hat, and scarf indoors if you want him to—

Just tell him that it's silly. How could a man like him ever hurt you or your baby?

Every day you wake up well-rested, with the chores done, with someone looking after your baby, and carefully planned, cultivated meals laid out on the table.

He may be the Head Cardiac Surgeon at Akso Hospital, but here, he takes a backseat. He would never speak over a woman who was a mother, and there's a lot to learn.

He tries not to step on either of your toes, but if there's one thing he wouldn't let your Yue Sao do, it's make you red date tea.

He was the one who made you red date tea even before you got together, and he isn't going to stop now :)

Sylus (Qin Che 秦彻)

Books you the nicest room in the most upscale confinement center/hotel you could find for as long as you want.

All confinement centers come with doctors and nurses at beck and call, baby care, and meals, but he made sure yours was five-stars, with physiotherapy, massages, facials, hair treatments, and classes.

He even has his own men secretly upping the security of the building for your stay.

Although he took parenting classes with you, read some books in his free time, he can admit he's not knowledgeable, so he does what he does best: shuts up and listens to his woman 😌.

Some men are allowed to stay, like the father of the child or male relatives, so of course, he's with you and the baby the entire time.

It's a bit nerve-wracking when the staff take your baby away for a checkup or bath and he's silently standing over them with his dark red eyes.

You might be resting and napping throughout the day, but he'll be awake and following your baby around when the nannies or nurses take care of them or taking the parenting classes the center provides.

He's so annoying though!!!!!

Lays his huge body in your bed, sinking the mattress, and follows you to all your spa treatments. The hotel is thinking of charging you double!! (Not like he cares, money is no object.)

He loves annoying you and clinging to you as much as he loves, well, you.

Tried to rock your baby to sleep and sing to them once while you were napping and upset your baby so much, your sweet baby cried until you woke up.

The hotel had to send him an email politely asking him not to do that again.

You're tired all the time, and while the care center offers spa treatments, what kind of husband would he be if he didn't bring you your personal skin care from home, applying it on your face for you while you lay in bed?

Everything seemed perfect; everything was taken care of.

You thought there was something wrong with you, and maybe it was the hormones, but somewhere in the middle of your confinement period, you couldn't help but feel so ugly. You felt so undeserving of this treatment.

Your belly didn't look the way it used to, your hair wasn't the same texture as it was, and your breasts hurt. (Of course it wouldn't, of course it did. You knew this, but for some reason, you couldn't help but be so upset.)

You were his little Dragon Li, spoiled to the ends of the earth, and now you were crying because throughout all of this, even though he and the rest of the facility had gone above and beyond, you were upset that your nail polish was overgrown.

Something so little, but you couldn't help it. You just felt like you were never going to be the same again.

Sure, he could call your nail guy to come by and give you a fresh pair of nails, but if there was one thing Sylus took seriously, it was your health. He didn't know what kind of contaminants your nail guy could bring to you or your baby.

While you were napping and your baby was resting with you, you wondered what Sylus was doing to occupy his time.

After all, even before you were pregnant, he made it seem like he couldn't last a day without you by his side.

He thought you were glowing like an angel, but if his kitten was crying to him, pouring out your insecurities, he knew words meant nothing if he didn't prove them.

So when he sits at your bedside, pulling out a complete and fully-sanitized nail kit, you can't help but stare in awe as he pulls out the exact nail color you had been wanting, in the most non-toxic formula he could find.