#aceecee

MC - ‘Wife’ 

“Hey [Name]?” the woman clinging to your back while you wake up asks. You turn around and greet her with a sleepy smile that grows bigger when she places a kiss on your cheek. You give her a sleepy nod.

“I was wondering what you have me saved as on your phone.”

It’s an odd question to be asked first thing in the morning but as always you indulge her. You reach for your nightstand where your phone resides, unlocking it and passing it over to her. You don’t pay attention to what she does next, sleep catching on the corner of your eyes. So, it’s a surprise when she throws her full weight on you. She plants numerous kisses on you, each one too fast for you, before getting off and tugging on your arms in an attempt to get you off the bed.

“Let’s go.”

You stare at her in confusion.

“Let’s go get married. We can plan a proper wedding later but let’s make it real right now.”

Caleb - ‘Dude’

“DUDE?!?”

Ah, there goes your peace. Shattered so easily by one man. 

Two arms reach for your shoulders and shake you awake. You swat at the arms as roughly as possible, already aware of the menace who’s doing it. 

“Shortcake,” he whines. 

With a sign, you finally crack your eyes open, glaring at the man child. The one who disturbed your precious sleep. 

“Why do you have me saved as Dude?” he pouts at you.

[“It’s what you deserve.”] 

You turn around and try to go back to sleep.

A heavy weight collapses on top of you. “I’m not getting up until you change it.”

Jokes on him, his weight on you is comforting and before you know it you’re fast asleep.

Caleb whines a little, even poking your cheek in hopes you’ll wake up but it does nothing. Your peaceful expression wins him over and soon soft snores are leaving him.

He’ll just continue in the morning.

Zayne - ‘zayniee’

“I overheard a conversation between two nurses today,” the man speaks into your neck. He’s currently holding you in his lap, in a tight grip. It’s common for him to seek comfort in you particularly after a long day. You rub the skin on his hand that’s on your hip, telling him to continue. “They were discussing what name their partner’s had them saved as. I don’t know why but it stuck with me…”

His unspoken question doesn’t go unnoticed. 

You press a kiss to his cheek, it delights you when he gets like this. You reach into your pants pocket, unlocking your phone and finding his contact. You feel his hair tickle you as he moves his head to see better.

“Of course,” he chuckles. You feel his grip tighten on you. “Only you can call me that.” He’s silent for a few seconds before continuing. “It’s a privilege only granted to you. Don’t I deserve a reward?” 

You roll your eyes playfully at his childish behaviour before getting up and tugging him into the bedroom.

The man has the audacity to sport a bright grin. 

Sylus - ‘Boss’

You love a night routine, especially after a long day.

Taking a warm bath or shower, scrubbing yourself clean of any dirt then drying yourself off and changing into comfortable sleeping clothes. You follow it by your skincare, all while thinking of your nice comfortable bed that you’ve missed. 

So, when you’re greeted by Sylus lazing on your bed like it’s his (you don’t care if he paid for it), scrolling through your phone, frustration rings through you at an alarming speed. The towel around your neck goes flying at him only to be stopped in the air by a red mist holding it in place.

“Now, that’s just rude,” he teases. “Here I was hoping to cuddle and instead I’m under attack,” he clutches the area where his heart is.

You roll your eyes at him. [“Give me my phone, you ass.”]

“What? This little thing?” He holds the phone up, smirking when you nod. “Only if you explain why I’m saved as Boss?” You know the close-eyed smile he gives you is not meant to be as carefree as it looks. 

[“Well…you are my boss, are you not?”]

The man blinks at you.

“I’ve been inside you.”

Xavier - ‘Sleepyhead’

His arms are wrapped tightly around you. 

The two of you are currently at your place. It’s your monthly cooking class for him. It all started when he made (and failed…spectacularly) you some pancakes. He proposed that you teach him after but due to your hectic schedules you can only do it once a month. To you it was an opportunity to better his cooking but to the sly fucker, it was all an excuse to have you to himself. 

An entire day, with no else around? Just you and him. It was heaven for him.

The rice dish you prepared together is on the stove, on low. It’ll need an hour more to cook so to pass the time, Xavier demanded cuddles and you wanted to watch your show. He flashed you those dumb blue eyes and so, you reached a compromise. 

That leads you to now, sitting on his lap on the couch while watching the new episode of your show. “So, it was the stepmother all along,” Xavier whispers into your neck. You nod, [“I told you so.”] You offer him the bowl of popcorn, stuffing some into his mouth when he just opens it in response. He should know better than to doubt your knowledge of shitty dramas. 

Your phone pings with a notification. You reach for the coffee table and pick it up. It’s a message from Mara confirming about your lunch date tomorrow. You think nothing of it as you respond, not realising Xavier’s focused look on your screen.

“If she’s Wife then what am I saved as?” he asks. No answer other than Husband will suffice but you don’t know that. You show him. 

“Sleepyhead? Why am I Sleepyhead? Why not ‘Love of my life’, or ‘Only one for me’?”

You laugh at the offended look on his face, completely unaware of the danger you’ve placed yourself in. Suddenly, you’re thrown back on the couch with him hovering above you.

“I’m angry now,” he leans in to kiss you. “Since it’s your fault, fix it.”

Rafayel - ‘Public Nuisance’ 

You had been curious about Rafayel’s process of using items like seashells in his works. As a result of your ask, you had spent the entire day together. First, gathering seashells on the beach. You should’ve gone back to his house after but he insisted on eating first, stating you’ll need it for energy. 

And he was right. You’ve collapsed on his couch, your arms are about to fall off. If you knew the process involved grinding the seashells over and over again until they became powder, you would have never signed on in the first place. But you had to admit, it was cute how excited he was to tell you all about it. It’s your favourite thing in the world, watching those you love tell you about things that bring them joy. 

He laughs when you let out a groan. “I never said it would be easy, pretty.” You can only pick your head up and glare in response. “Will you forgive me if I order some food?” he sports an amused expression as you eagerly nod. “Where’s your phone then?” You point your leg in the direction of your bag.

Rafayel digs through your bag as you close your eyes and rest. It shouldn’t excite him that you trust him around your things. He easily unlocks your things since you never kept your password a secret. On the screen, he comes across a notification of an old message. 

Ha! What poor sucker did she name Pu…

Concerned with how quiet he’s being, you open your eyes, only to stare right into your screen. “Explain this to me, brat,” he huffs. You raise an eyebrow in question. He leans his face right into yours. “Who names their lover that?”

[“Maybe you shouldn’t perfectly embody that name, then?”] You give him a smirk.

You swear his eye twitches, his reactions are exactly why you love teasing him. 

“You’re on a Rafayel ban from now on, pretty. No more of me until you apologize and change the name,” he storms off, dramatically closing his bedroom door with a loud thud.

The doorbell still rings though, ten minutes later, as a delivery man drops off food.

AN: Should I stop making Caleb so puppy-like? Probably. Will I though? Nope.

It only exists in those moments he feels pain.

When he has angered his god and must suffer in return.

As the ice pierces his chest, adjusting its pain so he can never get used to it.

It’ll appear then.

But it never reaches out. It never comforts him. 

For some reason he knows it's because it can’t. It can’t interfere. It can’t make it all better, no matter how much it wants to.

But in those moments, he feels it’s grief, it’s guilt and sometimes he can see it cry and it’s enough. To know that someone cares for him, that someone is crying for him. It’s all he needs.

Until one day, it’s gone. 

He cries then. The pain he felt unlike any other, not even the punishments from his god could compare. It died and it left him behind.

Many years pass.

Though he no longer remembers it all, his curse still follows him. Though he no longer remembers, his presence comes back to life.

This time it’s in a warm body, blood pumping through its veins. 

He wastes no time in claiming her.

You can’t play a fool any longer.

You’ve tried for years to be apathetic to it all and you had succeeded. But you can’t do it anymore. You can’t pretend you don’t notice how they look at you, the way they touch you and the hidden meaning their words hold. You have many words to describe yourself and oblivious was never one of them.

Mara’s possessive streak had been a constant through your entire childhood with every adult around you dismissing it and even though you pretend otherwise, you knew. When she would sneak into your room in the middle of the night, making herself comfortable next to you and spending hours just watching you, you knew. When her gentle hold would tighten into a bruising grip as your attention slipped elsewhere, you knew the reasons why. You ignored it all and you never told her that you liked when she left those bruises on you, you liked that she was marking you as hers and that you felt safe in those nights as she watched over you.

You took care of Caleb because you thought he would be safe. He wasn’t a love interest and he hated you yet he too changed just as quick. When he had kissed you that day, you didn’t ignore him after because you thought he was simply confused, no you were aware of his feelings. Telling him not to do it again might just be one of the hardest things you’ve ever done. You noticed every time he held himself back from touching you, the way his eyes would dim when he would call you a friend. Now, he’s gone and you can’t take those words back. You can’t tell him that you still think about the kiss, that you remember how it felt and that you dream about a future with him that’ll never come to pass. 

Zayne was different. He deemed you only as a friend. Maybe, that's why you let go around him, thinking you could indulge in his presence without worry. Then you saved him from himself and he wasn’t just a friend anymore. The look in his eyes was mesmerising when he visited you in the hospital the next day. Like it was the first time he saw you, in a way he’d never considered before. You didn’t have to delve on it much since he left after. Now, he’s back and you don’t tell him how much you missed him, how you remember every detail of that night with him and how much you want to do it again.

Sylus was confusing to understand. One week he would treat you like you meant nothing and the next like you were everything, sometimes you find him watching you, like he didn’t know the answer either. It took you nearly slipping out his fingers for him to conclude and the marks on your neck speak of his choice. He’s softer now, hands reaching to you whenever you’re close, kisses placed lightly on your head all with his gaze electric from the storms brewing inside. You lose yourself in these little moments, only to regret them in the next as you remember the hurt he has pressed deep into you. It stings more than your scars ever did.

You could brush them all off. Rationalise their odd behaviours and reason to yourself. Of course things are different, you’ve known them for years now, relationships are bound to change and develop! 

So, then why did Xavier have to look at you like that?

As if you’d hung the night stars yourself, so the moon wouldn’t be lonely. Like the colours of the night had been personally chosen and painted by you. 

What did you do to deserve this? You’re a disgrace of a human being. The epitome of the word selfish. You knew of their yearning and happily indulged in their affections while making them think otherwise. Caleb… 

He died thinking the girl he loved was also gone and she’d never see him that way.

How could you even begin to atone for such a sin?

You tell Zayne you don’t want anything more but you never stop him from stealing a kiss. You tell Sylus you can’t forgive him yet you sang his name on command. You tell yourself over and over again that it’s the last time, that things will be different next time. It never is.

You’ve become addicted to them. You can no longer let them go. But have they ever been yours? How selfish can you be to want all of them? How much more until you’re satisfied?

Your heavy thoughts lead you to the beach. The sand digs into you, it’ll be a pain to clean up but the sounds of the waves clashing are too peaceful to pass up. In your first life, you had a raging fear of the ocean, particularly the undiscovered parts of it. Yet for some reason, it calls to you here. It’s soothing and paired with the rays of the sun hitting your face, it ends up being heaven. 

Several noises ring around you. You watch as kids run around, happy and smiling, they build their sandcastles and get into competitions. Their parents watch them, the smiles on their faces so serene that you can’t help the tiny one you’re growing. You’re so lost in other people, you don’t realise the set of eyes staring at you.

I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream.

I know you, the look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. 

Miss Bodyguard:

Something came up. I’m so sorry Rafayel :(  I promise I’ll make it up to you!

Rafayel:

dun worry about it cutie needed some time to paint anyway

A sick part of him doesn’t want to be understanding. She feels bad about ditching him, it’s the perfect opportunity to make her feel worse but he stops himself. To her, their friendship is new but to him…it’s been too long. He has to be careful. He can always pout a little in their next meeting, it’ll get the message across.

He could also tell her that he’s already at the beach, that he’s set out a cute picnic for them and he’s about to but a smell stops him. It has too many notes for him to decipher but there’s an underlying one that’s strong. It smells like the aftereffects of rain, when the soil has soaked in all the liquid, as little droplets fall off leaves and the sky grows a rainbow. Nature at its best. 

It’s enticing. The smell is so tempting that he’s already making his way towards it, picnic long forgotten. 

He wishes he could say he doesn’t know what he’s feeling but he’s all too familiar with how his heart starts beating so fast, his fingers twitching with the need to touch, his face flushing when he sees the small smile on her face. 

Rafayel doesn’t know you. He’s never seen you before, he’s sure because he would never forget a face like yours.

So, then why does it feel like he does?

Why do his fingers remember the sensation of your threading through them? Why has he memorised the feel of your lips against his? Why does every fibre of his being want to sit next to you and ask why you’re so sad? Because even with that smile on your face, he can’t ignore the years of pain your eyes have accumulated. 

He’s so consumed by his confusion that by the time his eyes sweep over yours, you’re already walking away.

And his heart burns at the image, like you’ve done it before.

Like you’ve left him before. 

Forever. 

But if I know you. I know what you’ll do.

You’ll love me at once.

The way you did once upon a dream.

Sylus has been different.

It should come with no surprise to the twins. His personality changes recently come as a result from you. Yet, they can’t shake off this new one.

It occurred the day after he took you into his bedroom. The twins don’t know what happened, they don’t want to know what happened. But whatever it was had left the man dejected. They’ve never seen him so depressed.

He’s had his moments, the twins are thankful for it even, it’s a reminder that he’s human. But Sylus never shows it on his face. It’ll show through his hands, if he’s angry then he’ll tear enemies apart, if he’s sad then his fingers will rub the rims of whatever glass he’s holding, if he’s distracted then his hands twitch and he usually goes on a long ride to clear his head.

This time, he shows it all through his eyes. They follow you whenever you’re around, twinged with regret and yearning. Sulking, they realise, he’s sulking. And he’s certainly not telling them why, so they’ll just have to go straight to the source.

You’re suspicious when the twins surprise you with a chocolate lava cake one day, made by them - they had claimed - way too happy and eager for you to eat. [“What’s the occasion?”] you eye them. You’re sure they grin at you behind their masks. “Things have been so entertaining with you here, [Name],” Luke slides the plate towards you. “You deserve something sweet in return,” Kieran finishes off. 

With a sigh, you pick up the spoon and taste the cake. It’s slightly undercooked but for a first attempt, it’s amazing. Your hum of approval has them patting the other on the back. 

“Say [Name]. What have you done to the boss?”

[“I don’t know what you mean.”]

“He’s been moping about for a couple of days now. C’mon just tell us,” Luke whines, shaking you slightly.

You swat his hands away but their question has you thinking back on that day.

You wake up and even with your eyes bleary, you can tell you were sleeping on someone’s chest.

Then the remnants of last night make their way back to you. Your body flushes as you remember Sylus hovering above you, attacking you with kisses. That you initiated. The feeling of his body pressed atop yours had brought an odd sense of comfort, not at all suffocating like you thought it would be.

He didn’t take it any further than that. “This is enough, for now,” he had said, pressing one last deep kiss against your mouth before disappearing to change. He wasted no time pulling you on top of him and settling down in the bed, his eyes already closed as he dozed off. And even though you had just gotten up, you found yourself following as you breathed in his scent and relished in his arms around you. 

You tilt your head up and watch the man sleep. It’s a rare moment to examine his features closely. You never realised how white his eyelashes were, you want to trace the shape of his lips but the man looks so peaceful and you don’t want to ruin it. A dopey smile makes itself on your face.

For now, he had said. Which meant he wanted more.

Your gaze moves around his room, your eyes meet purple ones.

Caleb is sitting in an armchair. He’s wearing his school uniform. Just like he had been the last time you saw him.

He looks so heartbroken. So disappointed. In you.

“You’ll accept his kisses but not mine?” he whispers, eyes glazing with tears. “The man who caused you so much pain? Have you forgotten it already [Name]?”

You open your mouth to speak but you can’t do that anymore. No! You panic, Caleb has no idea about this.

Thinking your silence is your answer, Caleb starts to disappear but not before tearing your heart out. “I wish I had been enough for you,” he gives you a broken smile and he’s gone. Again. 

You pull yourself off Sylus, making your way to the balcony. The tears fall then, your mouth opening as you gasp in as much as you can. You can’t rely on yourself to breathe. Caleb was right. How could you forget the suffering you had endured at the hands of the man you laid with last night?

“Name?”

The way he speaks your name with so much concern has you gripping tightly on the railings. Your hand raises in a stop motion when he tries to come near you. He listens but the worry in his eyes makes you nauseous. 

[“Do you remember that time you tried to teach me sparring?”]

The man looks confused at your sudden question or why you’re bringing it up in the first place. “Yes,” he responds.

[“Did you know I couldn’t handle your touch in those moments? But I was so sure you’d dispose of me that I kept it to myself?”]

Sylus breaks. You want to stop it there but neither of you can move on until you let him know everything.

[“You scared me so much at that time, that I wished I was back in my cage. It felt like the safer choice.”] You blink away the tears. You’re still not finished. 

[“You left me on that mat and I was so desperate for your approval that I thought of ending it all since in your eyes I was a failure.”]

“You…I have never seen you as a failure,” Sylus tries to desperately explain.

[“I thought I would be okay with it. Just being a pawn, a tool to you. But did you have to be so cruel? I planned to leave. No, I desperately wanted to leave. I was counting down the days until two years would pass and then I would pack my bags and just go. I didn’t even care what you would have done if you found out.”] Now you’re finished. When you finally get the courage to look at him, your jaw nearly drops.

Sylus is crying. In a way that seems just like him.

His eyes are filled with tears but only two roll down.

You can’t let it break your resolve. 

[“I’m not saying this to hurt you nor do I regret what happened yesterday but you need to know the part you have played in my anguish. We needed to have this conversation and it’s better to do it before anything else happens.”]

You walk past him. He makes no move to stop you.

That had been three days ago.

The ball was in Sylus’s court now. He hasn’t tried to hide how his eyes follow you but you don’t do a thing. It’ll have to be him who makes the first move.

As the twins stare at you in hopes you’ll spill, you give them a teasing smile. 

[“$500,000 and I’ll tell you.”]

They simultaneously groan at your response. “You’re too cruel, [Name]”, Kieran fake cries into Luke’s shoulder. Said man rubs Kieran’s back, “There, there, [Name]’s just a big meanie.”

You just laugh and walk to your room.

An hour later, a knock interrupts the silence.

You don’t even get up from your bed. He’ll have to make himself known first.

“It’s Sylus.”

Sylus tries to calm his heart which is adamant on furiously beating itself out of his chest. His hands are shaking from nerves. Nerves! He can’t even remember the last time he has ever felt this nervous.

When you open the door, you steal his breath away. It’s been years living with you yet the sight of your face never fails to catch him off guard. He searches your eyes and face for anything to tell how you’re feeling but you give nothing away. You step aside and give him space to enter. He’s hit with your scent and he contemplates turning it into a perfume, one he’ll spray into his clothes, pillows and anything else he can come up with. The roles have reversed, he thinks, now it’s his first time in your room.

He’s seen it plenty through the cameras that used to be put in your room but he has never entered it. 

You walk to the fireplace and sit down in front of it. Not in the chair but on the floor, you pat the space next to you and he listens to the silent command.

“I…,” he tries to speak but his throat feels so dry. He licks his lips and calms down. “I wanted to punish you. Because of the way you made me feel.”

The baffled look on your face should not be that cute. You raise an eyebrow, as if saying ‘Really? That’s your explanation?’

He chuckles. “Do you believe in past lives?” 

You nod.

Then he tells you. Of his past and you listen to each word he speaks and every expression he wears. You should feel jealousy at how softly he speaks of his sorceress, of Mara but you don’t. You mimic that softness when it comes to her. It’s the first you’ve heard of their history together, it must have come out after you stopped playing the game. 

Your heart clenches at their end. Why must each story end in tragedy? Why won’t fate let them, let her be happy? 

I tried…

I’m still trying.

You’re my last hope.

“It doesn’t justify me treating you in that way or does it excuse it,” Sylus stares at you with such intensity. 

You look away. Your mind trails off as you try to put yourself in Sylus’s position. If you had such a beautiful love story crafted out and found yourself falling for a stranger in the same way, how would you have reacted?

Worse, you think, I would’ve been worse. The guilt and the realisation that I was betraying the one I love would kill me. It would have slowly eaten me up inside. 

He’s right, it doesn’t excuse anything but it does explain a lot. He’s a lot like you in that regard. Neither of you are normal, your lives have shaped you into the disasters you’ve become and as a result no one around you is truly safe. You think of all the people you’ve hurt and you don’t doubt that the list will continue to get longer. 

For the first time in all the years you’ve known him, you think you’re finally starting to understand him. When you look back, he’s still staring at you.

[“What’ll you do when you see her again?”] He hears the silent question, will you still feel the same for me?

“I want you both,” he answers. “But it’s different with you. With you I’m more selfish,” his hand comes up to cup your cheek. “I want to keep you chained here with me, I never want you to leave. I love her, yes, but I would be fine if she didn’t want me.” His forehead rests against yours. “I’ll die if you no longer want me. I’m nothing without you.”

Oh. 

It’s the first someone has been so raw with you. You buzz at the exhilaration. It should be the normal thing to be jealous that he loves her too, right? Except your mind flashes with scenarios of all the three of you together. Then it shifts until four others join and it feels so right.

Sylus pulls his forehead away. He doesn’t meet your gaze. “Nothing I do or say will make up for what I’ve done,” he closes his eyes. He does not want to finish what he’s saying, you can tell and looking at you won’t help. “Tell me you want to leave and I won’t do a thing. I’ll continue to investigate those scum but you don’t have to stay here anymore. After you get your revenge, we can go our separate ways. I won’t seek you out, I promise. You’ll never see me again. It’s all your choice, now. The choices you should have had from the beginning.” 

You think of his earlier confession. In other words, he’ll die. He’s willing to die to atone.

You reach for his hand. Sylus opens his eyes at the contact and he’s greeted by the sight of you playing with his long fingers as you gently smile. It’s not the reaction he was expecting but it’s a small domestic bliss you’ve gifted him. When you notice the awe on his face, you let go of the hand.

[“I’m not leaving. Not now or ever.”]

You don’t get to continue signing when he hunches over in relief. “I could kiss the ground right now,” he mutters. A laugh escapes you, this time it’s actually heard. Red eyes stare in wonder at the noise. It’s everything he wanted and more. Would it be weird for him to save it as a ringtone? No, he thinks, then others will hear it. That can’t happen.

[“I had no idea you could be such an idiot,”] you smile at him. [“I’m not ready to kiss you again. I need some time to process.”] Sylus looks slightly on edge and you think of this conversation, of the honesty shared with you. You can’t deny that he’s trying, which is better than anything you’ve ever done. [“But I don’t think it’ll be long. Just stay like this, let’s be honest with each other.”] 

“You the girl?” The man before asks in a gruff voice.

You nod.

He gestures for you to follow him. You can practically see the gears shifting in his head. The deal is taking place in some abandoned warehouse in the outskirts of Linkon City. No one else is around for miles. To him, you’re just some weak girl. To him it’s an opportunity. 

There are two other men waiting inside when you enter. Your ears pick up the sounds of two others, in another room, sounds of camera whirring, they’re watching you through them.

Another mission was assigned to you. This was a team of thieves. They were known to cater to a wide variety of the needs that one might have. In other words, they deal with black market goods. Why are you here? Turns out they’ve been using Onychinus’ name to close deals. Considering so much of their “goods” are fakes or in the words Sylus had given you “utterly distasteful”, it wasn’t what he wanted linked to him. You don’t blame him as you look over in barely concealed disgust at the item for sale.

You recognise the odd shape, it closely resembled what you had first thought was a statue in the beginning of the main story. The one in Raymond’s mansion. The man who went insane. At first you had been so confused but as you read online theories and why it happened to him, he deserved it all. 

A skeleton of a Lemurian. That was what lay before you. You remember how large the one in Raymond’s mansion had been. This one wasn’t as big. A child. This is a child. They have a child’s dead body crudely crushed into a box. 

Even in different worlds, humanities evil will always be constant. Rafayel was right to do what he did. 

The man who escorted you scoffs at the look on your face. “You knew what you were getting into,” his hand flicks at your head. “What gives you the right to judge us, missy?”

He falters a little at the deadpan expression you give in response but he looks around and sees that you’re outnumbered and gains the confidence back. He slams down the lid back on the box. “Deals off. But we’ll still collect payment,” he gives you a smile and his eyes flicker down to your chest. You know exactly where he’s going and you’re never going to entertain this. 

Blood spatters on your face as the man chokes at the vines around his throat, as numerous pierce right out of him. You don’t even bat an eye as he drops dead. The other two men react surprisingly quickly and rush at you but are stopped in place by vines around their legs. You contemplate on how to end their lives but ultimately decide they don’t deserve your genius and you kill them just like you killed their friend.

A loud clap rings through the now silent room.

You had heard him a while ago. He had been waiting outside with you. Watching your every move.

He looks even more beautiful in person. You understand why he was labelled the face of the game. Wavy indigo hair framing his face, his eyes a mix of blue and pink, unblemished face and skin just begging to be marked. 

The developers had done such a good job of making him harmless that you along with many others had fallen for it. Even now as he stands before you, you know you should be a little afraid but all you see is his carefree nature. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here?” he asks. His hand comes up to gently wipe the blood on your face. The heat from the contact has you both gasping, eyes simultaneously widening. 

The hold on your face seems to tighten. “Who are you?” his voice deepens in a way you didn’t know was possible. His eyes furrow. “Have we met before?”

You shake your head at him. To be truthful, you don’t know how you should behave around him. 

He seems to consider you for a moment but then his eyes flicker around the room, to all the dead bodies. “Seems like you’ve done my job for me, pretty.” They narrow at you. “Why is that?”

You lick your lips, unsure how to respond. Rafayel watches it with an intensity. He was implied to be very old in the game, having lived countless lives you think. But would he know how to sign? 

Your hand reaches to clutch the fabric of his sleeve, careful to not touch the skin there. You don’t want a repeat of the earlier electrifying reaction. You tug him towards the box not sure why he follows.

You open the box and show him the contents. He tries to hide his expression but it’s a child. The realisation alone had the contents of your lunch resurfacing, you can’t even begin to think what it must be like for him, to see his people hunted. “I didn’t think it would be this bad,” he whispers. “Did you know?”

You shake your head. Taking a gamble, you sign.

[“I’m just here to kill them.”]

“Can’t speak, huh?” he asks. His eyes narrow at your neck. His hands reach out to grab your neck and even though his face is filled with anger, his touch on your scar is ever so gentle. “I suppose this is the cause.” 

Of all people, Rafayel hadn’t been expecting you to be the buyer. He couldn’t even begin to explain the devastation he felt. He went unnoticed as he oversaw the exchange. He won’t admit it but relief flooded his system at the shock on your face at the item for sale, the disgust that followed left him with a sense of elation. 

The sight of you covered in the blood of the men you had slaughtered should not be so ethereal. He wants nothing more than to paint it. A painting just for him.

He’s so lost in the anger at the scar around your neck, he fails to notice the bullet heading for him but you do. 

You easily manoeuvre yourself so it’ll hit you because you’ll survive but he won’t. It lodges itself right into your abdomen. Rafayel is quick to move towards the assailants, ending the last two men in an instant.

When he returns to your figure, you’ve collapsed on the floor. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to how much blood the human body can store. It’s painting the entire floor red. Rafayel places a hand to your pale face, he’s just found and he’s already losing you. “Shit!,” he curses, pulling out his phone, no doubt phoning an ambulance. “Just hold on for me, okay? You still need to tell me your name.”

Given how panicked he is, it’s easy to grasp the phone in his hands and throw it at the wall, shattering it to pieces. You raise a hand to stop his questions. You can feel yourself paralysing, the bullet never made its way out of you, so you’ll have to find it yourself. You reach for the knife tugged into your boot and stab into the gunshot wound. There's no time to inform the man before you, you hold him down with your evol.

Rafayel watches helplessly as you practically tear open your stomach. Every synapse in his brain is screaming to do something. You dig your hand into the wound, looking everywhere for the bullet but you don’t even flinch. He doesn’t know that the pain is excruciating, that even after years of torture you’ve never gotten used to it, you’ve just learnt to live with it. 

With a sense of triumph, you finally dig it out. It was stuck inside your intestines, a fatal wound. For anyone not you. But it’ll be a bitch to heal. You’ll be out for a couple of days. Your eyes meet his horror stricken ones. This was not how you wanted a first meeting with him. God, did you traumatise the poor man? He’s the only one who can help you. Black spots have already made their way into your vision, you’re not going to hold on much longer.

[“No hospital. Will heal on…own.”]

As you slump over, your hold on him disappears. He moves quickly and picks you up, not caring as your blood coats him. 

He’s going to believe you, just this once.

You can heal at his place.

On his bed.

AN: Hehe, forgive me for the late update. I was going through writer's block for this fic and then my brain came up with two other fic ideas and I couldn't function until I wrote them. Speaking of which please check them out, I'll give you my love in return. Please do not expect me to be reliable when it comes to updates, I try for once a week but I can go weeks without an ounce of creativity :(

I was listening to Once Upon a Dream and the lyrics seemed perfect for the lore I have planned so I had to include them.

I have yet to finish the new story update so please no spoilers! Are we ready for MC reunion next chapter?

There’s something in the corner of the room.

It’s always around.

He’s not sure when it had become a comfort.

Most days it’s stagnant, not moving an inch from the position it had assigned itself. 

But then comes the moments where he cries and cries and cries.

What else can a weak child do?

Too weak to protect the one he loves, too weak to save her every time she’s carried in the arms of scientists, wailing out his name in hopes he’ll save her.

A hope he wishes will die out for it will never come true. He’ll never be her hero.

It moves when the first tear drops down his face. Its steps are always slow - cautious. 

Arms encircle his frame, his head pushed into a chest, held in a soothing grip.

It disappears with the last tear, back the next day in the corner of the room.

Years pass and he brushes it off as a result of a traumatised mind.

Until his fingers twitch uncontrollably around his new neighbour. Who he claims to hate yet burns with the need to touch.

To feel the sensation of those familiar arms wrap around him again.

“Don’t laugh!” the girl pouts at you.

You try to hold it in but it’s impossible. Her scowl deepens and you didn’t think it was possible for her to get even more red. Eiden’s stronger than you, he’s holding it in and looks not at all affected but you take notice of the way he’s clenching his hand and the smile he’s trying to bite down. Caleb is standing by her side, just as red and looking away. He’s sort of to blame for this, just a little.

But you would never tell him that.

You and Eiden had been waiting by your front door for the two of them, so you could commence your daily routine to walk to school when the other two joined. The reason for your laughter is the mess atop Mara’s head. “Gran is out,” she had tried to explain, “Caleb thought he could do my hair.”

Your laughter dies down when you see tears in her eyes, now you feel bad. “Oh, Mara, I’m sorry. Don’t feel bad,” you rush at the girl, dropping your school bag on the floor so you could comfort her. Eiden picks it up for you.

The feeling inside you when she pushes your arms away is indescribable. It’s the first time she’s ever denied your attention and you don’t know how to feel. Your fingers twitch at your side as your insecurities run wild.

You’d fucked up and now she doesn’t want you anymore, your voice screams in your head. How many times until you learn that you’re a failure meant to be discarded?

You take a step back and quickly throw on a mask, unbeknownst to you, your brother notices the blank face you had tried to cover up. His lips straighten but he doesn’t say a word. He quietly watches the flash of anger in your eyes when Caleb comforts Mara instead. 

You take a deep breath and try again. “I am sorry, Mara. I didn’t realise you were serious,” you gesture to your house. “Let me fix your hair.”

That has her attention on you again. “But…we’ll be late to school then,” she whispers. “Then we’re late,” you shrug. It would be a first for the four of you so you’re confident they’ll let you off easily. 

You feel a sense of relief when the tears in her eyes are gone, replaced by a bright grin. She turns to Caleb, “You go on then, I’ll see you later.” Caleb tries to disagree but his words fall on deaf ears, you step in for him instead.

“Let him stay, I’ll teach him some styles so this,” you point at her hair, “doesn’t happen again.”

The aforementioned boy just watches you silently in that regular way that makes you uncomfortable. You don’t know what his deal is but every time his eyes fall on you, it’s like he’s dissecting you, almost analysing you in a way that makes you afraid he’ll see the real you. More often than not you keep your guard up around him, just in case.

It takes you almost thirty minutes just to untangle her hair from the mess on her head, it’s not made easy by the fact that she has curly hair. The same hair that had been on Gia-

You offer her tips on how to take care of her hair. Another thirty minutes is spent on showing a variety of hairstyles she can do, Caleb who had taken his seat on your bed inched forward every hairstyle until he was practically falling off the bed just so he can memorise it all. You nearly laugh at the focused look he adorns, moments like these remind you that he’s just a child trying his best for the girl he cares about. 

“You shouldn’t feel bad,” you whisper to him, hoping no one else hears. He looks at you confused but you just send him a smile and go back to the task on hand.

Caleb isn’t sure why he feels his face heating up. 

You decide it’s best to not let a single soul know what destiny befallen on Finn. Maybe it would’ve been a good idea to let someone know that an entity of sorts lives inside you and can control you. But you have yet to wrap your mind around the thought itself. It’s too much.

Has this been the result of whatever was done to you?

You try to talk to it inside your head but it’s been two days now and still no response. You tell yourself that perhaps you’ve just remembered the situation wrong and if it responds, you’ll change your thinking. But for now, it’s all thrown to the back of your mind.

You’re back in the N109 zone. No other missions await you. You receive no congratulations from anyone either. 

Good.

Mary had texted you that the renovations had been completed. You let her know that you’ll be by today to see them. And see the kids. You missed them.

Is it wrong to use the comfort that little kids provide by being dumb and cute? Probably but you’re in desperate need for them to ask you stupid questions while clinging to you with sticky hands. 

You stop by the base, changing into a simple hoodie and sweatpants. You’ve learnt that no matter what you wear, you will be leaving with it in stains. It’s something you’ve long accepted.

“Going somewhere?”

Sylus’s voice doesn’t shock you. You had heard him moving around, slowly towards you. 

[“Orphanage.”] 

“Let’s go then,” the man waves his keys at you, walking by while leaving you standing in the middle of the hallway. You stare at his back, it would be just like him to invite himself into your plans as he pleases. 

And yet you continue to let him.

You’re jumped on the second you enter, bright smiles all around. Sylus watches on the sidelines, amused.

He watches the warm look in your eye, the gentle way in which you handle the kids, the way you try to communicate without your words. Something ignites in him, seeing you like this. It’s a new side of you he’s never seen. So patient and understanding. 

You’d make a good mother.

You feel a shiver up your spine, looking at the direction of the white-haired man. The look in his eyes makes you pause.

You’re in danger. 

“You wake her up,” whispers Kieran to Luke.

“No, you do it!” whispers Luke back.

“You’re older!”

“Says who?”

“Wake who up?”

The two masked men jump and scream at the sudden voice behind them. “Boss-man, shhhh,” Luke puts a finger to his mouth, “you’ll wake her up.”

Sylus glares at them, almost offended. “I’m whispering. You’re the ones shrieking.” 

The twins glance at each other and he sighs, it’s never good when they mentally communicate with the other. “Out with it.” 

He’s starting to think he should have just turned around and left when he saw them standing outside their own bedroom. He should know better than to be involved in anything they do. He should have stayed curious because explain to him why he’s being pushed into the bedroom, being used as a shield while the twins hide behind him.

“Look,” points Kieran at his side of the room, right at his bed. 

Now in too deep, Sylus has no choice but to go investigate. He immediately notices the lump on his sheets but stops as he gets closer. He can’t stop the look of shock (and jealousy) on his face.

Why the hell are you sleeping on their bed?

He looks back at the two nuisances who just usher with their hands for him to get closer. They’re not going to be any help.

He moves towards you, lips quirked up as he takes you in. You’re normally a composed person, the only time he can recall seeing you otherwise when he first met you. You had made sure since then to never appear a “mess” again. Sylus never said a word, he understood better than most your need to never show weakness. 

But not even you can control how you look when asleep. Your hair is a mess, covering your face. He had watched you enough on those cameras to know that there’s drool either on your face or on the pillows. You’re sleeping at such an odd angle, he’s sure your body is going to ache when you wake up. 

How cute.

He walks closer and gently nudges you on the shoulder. It’s barely a pat but it’s all you need. His little bird blinks slowly at him before glaring at the man who woke her up. Jealousy settles deep inside him, no one else deserves to see you like this. Only him.

Sylus moves himself so his body hides you from the two other pairs of eyes in the room, he sits down on the bed. “I hope you’re aware that you’re sleeping on Kieran’s bed?” 

You just nod and fall asleep. 

He’s left staring at your body, envious that you felt comfortable sleeping in the twins room and not his.

This won’t do.

He’s quick to scoop you up in his arms, the twins watch with no words as he leaves their room and walks right into his. They have the sense to not ask questions. Sylus places you gently on his bed and watches with satisfaction as you settle in. 

A groan stays stuck in your throat as you feel sleep leave despite your wishes. After so many years of insomnia, waking up after a good night’s sleep is even more torture than what you had gone through. Furthermore, there’s a comforting smell soaked into the pillowcases and bed sheets around you. The scent doesn’t belong to the twins, you know exactly who it does belong to. 

You had slept each night you had been with Zayne. After experiencing being so well-rested in years, you’d rather die than go back to your original state. So, you had come up with a theory that the smell of a person you trusted might help. And it did. 

You slowly open your eyes, taking in the room. It’s the first time you've been in here. Everything in it screams Sylus, the man has excellent taste. You look around for said man until your ears pick up the shower running. The perfect time to snoop. 

Ten minutes later, you’ve been nearly through the entire room with nothing to show for it. Sylus has nothing interesting in his room, you pick up the water turning off and rush back into the bed just as the bathroom door opens. 

Your eyes don’t leave his body, all he has is a towel around his waist. You shamelessly watch the water run down his body. Your fingers twitch as you see his muscles, you’ve always been one to appreciate fine art. 

Sylus smirks as he notices your eyes on him. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

[“No. You’re boring.”] 

He lets out a laugh at your statement, moving closer to you. “Or…I’m smart enough to not keep secrets in my room.”

[‘So, you do have secrets?”] your eyebrows raise.

“Want me to tell you one?”

[“Yes.”]

“Then say my name.”

The request gives you pause. You tilt your head in confusion. 

“You said that doctor’s name,” his voice is deeper when he lets out ‘doctor’. “Say my name,” it comes almost as a plea, he gives you a look that almost seems like desperation. You can’t tell if it’s like him or unlike him. 

You clear your throat. He perks up, it reminds you of a puppy waiting for a treat.

“Sylus,” it comes out much better than when you had said ‘Zayne’, no stutter too.

Before you can move, you’re thrown back on the bed, a heavy figure looming above you.

“Again,” his eyes don’t leave yours. You think you might have just done something that has changed the trajectory of your relationship.

You swallow.

“Sylus.” 

You say it so quietly that if you hadn’t spoken the words you don’t think it could even be heard. But, it seems to be enough for him. His head moves dangerously close to yours. Lips almost touching. He doesn’t move further than that. With the way he’s looking at you, you know the next move is yours.

You don’t hesitate. 

Your lips move desperately together. He’s devouring you in a way that you’re sure he’ll never be satisfied and will take. Again and again. Never stopping.

You break apart but he’s determined to take even your breath as he moves down to your neck, leaving soft kisses and as many marks as possible in his way. 

A hand gently grabs her wrist.

“No more,” Xavier softly commands. He takes the hunter watch off her wrist and pockets it. “You need rest.”

She doesn’t even have it in her to fight. The exhaustion has won. Neither of them say a word as he leads her into her apartment. They settle down on her couch. 

She fidgets with the ugly beaded bracelet on her wrist. In times of emotional crisis, it had become a clutch for her. The orange colour on one of the beads had become so faded in these last few months. 

“What does it mean to you?” his soft voice snaps her out of it. She looks in his direction to see him eyeing the bracelet. She finds herself wanting to answer. It’s shocking how close they’ve become in such a short time. Mara has no idea when Xavier stopped being a co-worker and became a friend. 

“My angel gave it to me.”

His eyebrows furrow a little in confusion. She understands, she’s never muttered the words ‘my angel’ out loud since you disappeared. It feels refreshing. It feels right.

She answers his question before he can even ask it. 

“She left me too.”

The watch on his arm beeps.

He’s not working today but a metaflux has been detected nearby and if he’s received the message then it’s just him alone. He’s informed that backup is twenty minutes away. A message that would give most hunters pause but he’s been alone for a long time, he can rely on himself. He knows he’s capable. 

The wanderers that appear before him are weak but strong in their numbers. One manages to slash him across his back. He grunts in pain but pushes through. His evol works with him to incinerate as many as it can. The fatigue settles in quicker now that he has activated it. How much sleep will he need after this? He’s too caught up in fighting to notice the wanderer that sneaks up on him, it’s too late for him to even teleport when he does. He waits for a pain that never comes up.

It’s then he notices the vines surrounding the wanderer’s body, holding it tightly in their grip. Before his eyes, the wanderer is ripped apart. Every other wanderer he can notice is in a similar predicament.

He’s not alone anymore. There’s a woman standing a few metres before him. She’s far enough that he can’t notice any distinct features. He makes his move.

From a distance, it looks like the sword he throws is meant for her but the woman doesn’t even flinch as it embeds itself into the wanderer behind her. With a loud thud, it falls before disappearing. Numerous protocores flop on the ground around them but neither party cares, too focused on the other.

The green shield around her disappears when he’s confirmed that there’s no longer a threat. The woman gives him a nod and turns to leave. Only for him to move much closer to her.

He doesn’t say anything, just taking her in. His heart beats fast as he looks her over, her hair, complexion, her clothes. He memorises everything. 

His throat suddenly feels dry as he notices the deep scar around her neck. That sense of peace and comfort he had given up crashes into him.

It can’t be…

After what feels like forever, he opens his mouth to speak. “Who are you?”

Why do you look like it? 

How do you exist?

He doesn’t ask those questions, too scared of the answers he might receive. 

The woman taps her mouth and then crosses her arm in an ‘x’ in an attempt to get her message across. It works. 

“You…” he takes a step forward, confused until realising. “You can’t speak?” 

The woman nods in confirmation.

The both of them stare at the other in awkward silence before the woman throws up a goodbye wave and runs away.

Xavier is too baffled by the situation to remember he can teleport. 

Throughout all his life, he finds himself before the statue.

As a kid when being a royal would get too much, after a gruelling training session and recently when he learnt the truth of his world…of his family.

The statue isn’t much to look at. One of the many in his family’s vast collection. Tucked away in the corner of a store room. He had stumbled upon it as a child, when he had tried to run away from his future as a King. 

It was covered in a white sheet but it called to him. With bated breath he had removed the sheet, eyes wide at what he saw.

It resembles a woman. One unlike any he’s come across. She’s beautiful.

No…

It’s too little a word to describe her. She’s a type of beauty that can’t be described for it would only limit her. 

He tried to ask around for any knowledge on who sculpted her, in hopes that maybe she exists and he could find her?

But no one knows anything.

“That statue? I don’t really know, your highness. It just appeared one day.”

“I’ve never seen a statue like that.”

“I have no idea, your highness.”

Even his father is no help. Neither are any texts they have. The mystery of the statue keeps him intrigued. It becomes a sort of comfort over time. He finds himself before her whenever life gets to him, ranting about it all. Anyone else would think him crazy but sometimes it feels like it’s listening.

Above all, one thing about the statue always stood out. The only crack on such old stone.

It was across her neck.

AN: I have to keep reader's interactions with Xavier and Rafayel short cause we need MC for more. Sylus has a breeding kink and you can't tell me otherwise, actually they all do. What nasty freaks.

Sorry for the late chapter, not only do I have three assignments due, I'm also sick!

The presence is always there.

Throughout all the constant sounds in this place.

Scribbling on paper. Clacking of the keys on the computer. Beeping from whatever machines they use.

Most of the words spoken and actions taken by the scientists around her are too complex for her child mind to understand. All she knows is that they hurt her.

They hurt her a lot.

That’s what 02 told her. 

Caleb, she informs herself, his name is Caleb. Remember it.

Her mind is too unreliable. She never remembers anything. She relies on 0-Caleb to let her know but as young as she is, she can still tell that he omits information from her. She’s too tired to care.

Her mind may not remember but her body does.

Phantom aches and pain that will pop up out of nowhere. The sensation of being cut open.

The sensation of feeling her heart stop.

Surrounded by bleak walls, lab equipment, being labelled as a test subject and she’s confident that whoever decorated this hell was simply told “White. Make it all white.”, it doesn’t take long for her to put it all together. 

What they’re doing to her.

She’s glad she doesn’t remember any of it.

Other than Caleb, there’s always someone with her. Or something.

A comforting presence. 

Invisible to everyone. Even Caleb.

Or maybe not.

It’s around her at all times but it only reaches out in her last moments, before she forgets everything and her personal hell starts all over again.

The presence only reaches out when she’s about to fade, a soothing sensation of a hand caressing her head, cool to the touch. 

Sometimes she swears she can hear a voice, a voice that’s sobbing,

It repeats, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”, over and over again.

The next time she awakens, it’s in a nice house. She has a grandma and a brother(?) of sorts. He tells her to call him Caleb. 

She forgets all about the presence. She doesn’t feel it again.

Until the eyes of her new neighbour bore into her and she’s smitten.

Completely unaware that her presence has made its way back to her.

All she knows is her mind is screaming to never let her go.

Sylus knew he shouldn’t have let you go.

But he always finds himself caving in when you plead.

It wasn’t even like this was new to him, he’d always let you get away with things. The mercy he granted to you had yet to be given to anyone else. He should’ve ended your suffering all those years ago instead he fought against fate to keep you alive. He had thought of you as the most beautiful unpolished gem in his collection. His . 

Yet it had been that exact thinking that flowed into his attitude towards you that had driven you away. Something he shouldn’t care about yet it’s constantly present in the back of his mind.

His mind that has been struck by a disease, one named after you. Selfish desires ignite in him - thoughts of keeping you locked up, chained to him - something that should disgust him. 

It doesn’t. 

It’s unlike him. He’d walk away from Mara if she asked but Sylus can’t do it for you. It’s not fair, not to you. He’s aware of it, of how morally wrong his behaviour is. You deserve better, you deserve stability. 

It’s okay. He’s learnt now, he can give you that. After he personally delivers the heads of every single person involved in your suffering. After he builds you so strong that no one can hurt you again. Not even him.

His thoughts have become erratic in your absence. On day one alone, not a single person could escape his wrath. He checked his phone, there were no messages from you. He can’t even remember the last time he had lost control over himself like this.

On day two, he sent Mephisto after you.

No messages.

On day three, the crow returned.

No messages.

Red and black mist destroy everything in the room as he watches you cling to another man. You smile and look at the man so fondly. You give him your affection so freely when it took you two years to even touch Sylus.

The doctor had gotten further with you in two days than Sylus had in two years.

The revelation breaks him. The anger coursing through his veins is not directed at you but himself. He doesn’t blame you for seeking comfort you desperately needed, comfort Sylus had failed to give you.

He’ll fix it.

Please let him fix it. 

You feel your heart drop as you look at the latest message from Sylus. 

You look at the bedroom door in horror. He’s outside. Why the fuck is he outside!

No , you shake your head, he doesn’t deserve my fear . With a new found resolve, you grab your bag and leave but not before stopping to look at the figure sleeping on the bed. He looks so serene. So beautiful. 

You’ve already broken your promise to Zayne, you’re leaving him in the dead of the night. It’s cruel but that is what you’ve always been. You try to comfort yourself that it’s better this way, that he learns the girl from his childhood was a fake. Remember your place , you tell yourself, you’re nothing but a selfish bitch , but the trembling off your lips gives it all away.

With a heavy heart, you walk away from the man that had brought you peace even if it had been just for a little while.

Sylus clenches his hand as he takes in your approaching figure.

He’s parked right outside Zayne’s house, leaning against his car.

His jaw locks as he takes in your dishevelled state, the shirt that does nothing to hide the marks on your neck, your bruised lips and the way you’re walking with a slight limp.

He had not expected this. 

You still at his expression, watching him with a wary look. He sighs, taking in a deep breath, forcing himself to look nonchalant. Getting angry and losing control would deliver the opposite results he was looking for. He walks over to the passenger seat and opens it.

“Get in.”

You don’t move. After a little more silence, you bring your hands up.

[“You’re not mad?”]

He closes the door and walks towards you. His steps are at a normal pace to not spook you. You don’t do a thing as he comes into your space, fingers gently grazing at the marks that should’ve been from him.

“I’d rather we talk about this in a warm lit room than out here in the dead of the night,” the man smiles at you. It doesn’t match the look in his eyes. “It would be more ideal, don’t you think?”

The air around you suddenly becomes colder. Ice encases the hand Sylus was touching you with, an arm pushes you away from him and into someone else’s back.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Zayne asks him, an eyebrow raised.

“ Oh? What’s this?” Sylus smirks at the black-haired man. Not at all intimidated, he leans right into Zayne’s face. “A hero to the rescue, is that how you see yourself?” he finishes. 

Zayne doesn’t even flinch as he stares right back into Sylus’s gaze. “What gives you the right to touch her?”

You watch the exchange in slight amusement. 

Honestly it looks like they’re about to kiss. You take in the scene again, there’s a spark between them that they don’t realise. It’s chemistry if you’ve ever seen it. Ignited by mutual hatred. You try to bite down the smirk rising within you, this will be entertaining. 

“I’m her boss,” the man answers simply. “The one who’s been taking care of her this entire time. Where were you while she was suffering?” 

The hairs on the back of your neck rise, goosebumps are all over your body and when you exhale you can see your breath in the air. All of it as a result as the temperature around you becomes even chillier as Zayne takes in Sylus’s jab. 

His lips curl into a snarl and unfortunately you have to ignore how it turns you on because these two idiots will kill each other if this keeps up. Luckily, you have just the weapon to disarm them both.

“Z-zayne.”

The two men freeze as they stare at you in awe. Your voice is scratchy, hoarse from years of unuse. Yet they drink it up like it’s nectar.

It had been a gamble but you figured after two years of resting, you could at least say one word. Thankfully, it worked.

Your hand wraps around his upper arm as you guide him away from Sylus. The man watches the two of you with steel eyes. At your touch, Zayne’s evol melts away.

[“He’s right. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be here. I owe him my life.”] you explain.

“I can tell he’s not a normal man,” Zayne cups your cheek. “Just what have you involved yourself in,” there’s only worry in his eyes as he gazes at you. You smile as you lean into his touch.

[“Nothing I can’t handle.”] you reassure him. 

“You promised you weren’t going to leave,” he doesn’t say it like an accusation but it still stabs you like one. The two of you ignore the scoff from a certain man.

[“I wasn’t lying,”] you say as you lie. [“I have your number, remember? I’ll visit. We need to talk anyways.”] 

You take in his demeanour and just like that, he easily crumbles down your walls. It had been so easy for you to walk away from people once but despite your earlier bravado you don’t think you have it in you to do it again. Not as he looks so afraid you’ll disappear again. You can’t tell if it’s supposed to be a good change or not.

[“If I could stay I would,”] your eyes plead with him. Please let me go . 

[“And if memory serves correct, I still owe you three deserts.”]

He looks at you in confusion until you literally see the lightbulb in his head turn on. 

“But I lost the coupon,” he pouts. You can’t help the smile on your face. [“I’ll make an exception just this once, okay?”] 

Zayne sighs, looking away in contemplation. “Okay,” he says, letting go of you. He takes a step back and your insecurity wonders if it’s one from you.

Sylus has the sense not to say a word but it doesn’t stop him from putting his hand on your lower back as he guides you into your seat. 

Zayne watches as the car speeds down the road. He continues to watch as it escapes his sight.

Zayne is left alone. 

He walks mindlessly into his bedroom, collapsing on the bed, staring at the ceiling with a blank look on his face.

The house already feels so empty without you, how is he supposed to go back to normal?

You had told him that you were going to leave Linkon, he knew your visit wasn’t a permanent one but three days after over a decade without you wasn’t enough. He didn’t need more, he needed forever.

He repeats in his mind the way you had spoken his name. Your voice is deeper since you were no longer a child. His cheeks flush as he realises that the first word you had said after years of silence was his name. His breath becomes heavier as your voice repeats. His dick stands to attention.

Even after so many rounds he still wasn’t satiated.

He stares at the imprint around his wrist. He brings it closer to his mouth, his lips just ghosting over it.

It’ll have to do.

His other hand goes down to his pyjama pants.

It’s okay. He can play the long game. He waited this many years, he can wait even more for you. The company he had given you was priceless, he’ll remind you every step of the way why he’s the better choice. The only choice.

The silence has you on edge.

You were expecting more from Sylus. Threats or yelling maybe even both, anything over the silence. It feels like torture. 

You watch his body language. His grip is tight on the steering wheel. He hasn’t even looked at you once, gaze locked onto the road before him. It’s clear he’s angry but you don’t understand why he hasn’t done something about it. 

Sylus takes notice of the way you grip onto your pants, you’re trying to pretend otherwise but he can tell some part of you is afraid. Nothing out of his mouth will calm you down, he’s sure of it.

There are two cowards in the car and not a single one of them makes a move. 

The twins don’t ambush you when you return.

“They’re out,” Sylus walks into his office, he doesn’t have to say it for you to know to follow him. 

You close the door behind you as you enter his space making sure to give Mephisto a stink eye. The bird squawks at the action before cooing softly at you. 

Traitor , you narrow your eyes at him. 

You’ve already forgiven him, he has no choice to do what Sylus tells him to but where’s the fun in letting the bird know that?  

[“Okay out with it. What’s my punishment?”] you struggle to look him in the eyes. You don’t want to concede but in an unreliable world you’ve learnt to pick your battles. Truth is you need him more than he needs you. You thought you’d be okay being a pawn but reality had settled in and you want the freedom you’ve been desperately seeking in your lives.

His heart twists as he takes in the dejected look on your face. He had really screwed things up.

“I’m sorry.”

What?

Your head snaps up at him. Of all the things you had imagined in your head, those two words had never even made the list, no they had never even been considered. Sylus doesn’t do apologies. Right? 

He gives you a sad smile at your expression. What a hole he had dug himself into.

“You’re thinking that I’m lying right now.”

You don’t respond but your silence speaks.

He doesn’t let it deter him. “I don’t blame you,” he continues. “I kept you at a distance because I thought it would be best,” he chuckles. “What a fool I’ve been, hmm?”

Your nails dig into your skin, an attempt to ground yourself. His apology hadn’t moved you.

[“Why did you lie?”]

He looks at you in confusion. “You’re going to have to give me more details than that. After all, I lie for a living, little bird.” 

[“You said you’d give me information about my brother when you had it but you kept it from me. You only gave it when I proved myself useful again.”] you glare at the man before you. 

Sylus takes in your words as he realises his mistake. “Is that why you’ve been so distant?” his voice is quieter. He accepts he won’t get an answer when you raise an eyebrow at him. He walks towards you until he’s right in front.

“I have no excuse,” he admits.

Tears run down your face as you shake from anger. Fucking bastard , you scream in your head as you rush at him. He does nothing to stop the hits on his chest, only making a move when you wince in pain from a hit. His hands grab your wrists, halting them in the air. You try to struggle out of his grip but he’s much stronger.

He says nothing as you try to calm yourself, only watching. Then he brings one hand right over his heart, pressing his down on top so you can’t remove it. You hear the thumping of his chest.

“Take it.”

Huh? 

“If I give my heart to your brother, will it suffice? Will you forgive me then? Ask me for it and it’s yours,” he raises the same hand to his lips, kissing the middle of your palm.

You can only stare in astonishment at the man in front of you. One had to be a little insane to be head of a criminal organisation, you knew that, but wasn’t this too much?

He finally lets you yank your hands away.

[“Are you stupid?”]

“For you? Yes,” he smirks.

You scowl at him. [“I need you alive, remember?”] you poke his chest. [“You’re not allowed to die while I still need you.”]

“Noted.”

He tries to not let it show how elated he was to see you admit that you need him.

What an infuriating asshole. 

“Then what will it take for you to forgive me?” 

[“I can’t forgive you. Not yet or maybe never.”]

He nods. “Okay.”

[“No more lying. Tell me everything related to my brother and the people we’re hunting. Don’t keep things from me. I can’t forgive you but I can learn to trust you.”]

“No more lying. I promise.”

Suddenly exhausted from the conversation, you turn to leave but he’s still not done.

“You wanted your own space, right?”

You look back at him, nodding so he can continue.

“You don’t have to worry about asking for permission anymore. Just let me know in advance.”

The last thing Sylus wants is for you to make a home somewhere else but seeing some light return to your eye, he knows he’s made the right decision. He can’t be selfish anymore.

Not if he wants to lose you.

Hazel eyes gaze at you in wonder as you enter the café. His tablet he had previously been on is now turned off and forgotten. 

“You’re here,” the man says as you sit down in front of him.

[“Why wouldn’t I be?”] 

The tips of his ears turn red. “I didn’t think you would come back,” he admits. 

You feel surprisingly numb at his words. You owe him the truth. [“I was going to leave that night so you’re not wrong to feel that way.”]

Zayne gazes down at his lap. It’s uncharacteristic of him to be so hesitant and you hate yourself even more for reducing him to this. 

“Is it because you regret-”

You don’t let him finish, your hands reach for his and you squeeze the flesh as you vehemently shake your head no.

[“No. Not for one bit do I regret anything from those three days.”]

He meets your eyes. “Then why…” he trails off.

[“Because that girl you remember? She was a façade. I thought if I acted like a good person then I would become one. But my nature will never change. I’m selfish, that’s why I stayed. I’m also a coward, that’s why I tried to run.”] you feel your hands tremble as you explain.

Zayne keeps his eyes on them even when you bring them under the table as an attempt to hide it. “What made you change your mind? You didn’t have to respond to my text and meet me here.”

You take a while to answer, unsure how to respond. 

[“I don’t know.”]

“Okay,” he nods. “I’ve already ordered something for us, you’ll like it.”

[“Zayne about that night when we…”] you trail off.

“When we had sex?” he finishes for you.

You feel yourself fluster at his bold words, looking around to see if anyone overheard.

[“Be more quiet!”] 

“No,” he crosses his arms, looking away. “Consider it your punishment.” His childish act makes you smile. You don’t notice him slightly peeking at you, body relaxing at your happiness. He likes making you smile.

Heat rushes through him as he remembers that night, each detail ingrained in his mind. All of it perfect except for one thing. He really wants to hear your moans. 

A squeeze to his cheeks pulls him out his thoughts. It’s his fault, you reason with yourself, for being too cute. 

[“I don’t regret that it happened but I can’t give you anything more than that. Not right now at least,”] you eyes are downcast. What if he thinks you just used him?

Hands grab yours. “I know.”

You try to remove your hands to sign but he tightens his hold. “I know,” he repeats. “I’ll wait. Take however long you need, just don’t disappear again.”

You nod and the two of you smile at the other. You feel more at ease now that you’ve been honest with him.

And Zayne? He doesn’t care if you’re selfish. You can take and take from him, he’ll happily give you whatever you desire.

For now, he’ll settle on keeping these thoughts to himself.

He slides the tablet towards you. You look at the screen. It’s a listing of an apartment, one of the many on the list you had given him.

“It’s the only one I thought you’d like.”

You look through the photos of the place, ending on a map of where it is. The address has you grin at him mischievously.  

[“And it has nothing to do with the fact that it’s a five minute walk from your place?”]

His cheeks burn. “A mere coincidence.” 

You silently laugh. Throwing your hands up to let him know you won’t fight him on it.

[“Then let’s go see it now, there’s an inspection today,”] you get up to leave but a hand on your shirt stops you.

“Our food is still being prepared. It would be a shame to leave, no?”

You sit back down. [“A shame indeed.”] 

The apartment has everything you’re looking for.

It’s a two bedroom, containing all the necessities you need. But the number one thing you like is the open concept. The place feels spacious, the large windows add to it as well. Too many walls freak you out but it won’t be a problem here.

Zayne watches in satisfaction as you look around in awe. He can’t help but feel prideful that you approve of his choice.

The realtor is more than happy to give you the place when you agree to pay more than twice the original price. You give her your fake documents, ones Sylus had gotten made for you. 

You leave the building with a beaming smile. Zayne simply watches.

“And here I thought your name was [Name].” 

You look at him in slight confusion before you see the subtle smirk on his face. 

Ah, I see.

[“Forgive me, I’ve lied to you once again.”] you clasp your hands together.

He can’t keep the smile off his face as you play along. “Maybe if you make me a dessert, I could find it in my heart to forgive you.”

You waste no time in holding his hand and dragging him away. 

Sylus stares at the apartment door in front of him.

It had been a few days since you left to get settled into your new place. The agreement was for you to spend a week in N109 and the next in Linkon. He had stayed away because he didn’t want to intrude. He’s only here because he needs payment for his favour.

He rings the doorbell.

Sylus is very grateful to your parents for bringing you into his world. Your hair is wet, a small towel around your neck. He looks all over your body, what a delicious sight.

You tilt your head at him. Your week isn't over so why is he here?

He holds up the fruit basket in his hands. “Housewarming gift.”

You take it and let him in.

[“I bought this place with your money, you didn’t need to.”]

“But I did,” he looks all over the place, committing the floorplan to memory. “You could’ve chosen a nicer house, you know? I’m not poor,” he looks offended.

You roll your eyes at him. [“I don’t want to stand out.”]

“All you do is stand out, little bird,” he makes himself at home on your couch. Your annoyance shoots up when he smiles at you. It’s obvious he’s here for something else. [“What do you need?”] you sit in front of him. 

“Check your phone, you’ll find a photo of a man. He’s hiding here in Linkon. Kill him,” he says it like he’s not asking you to endl someone. But you suppose to him this is nothing.

He senses your thoughts. “You need to get used to taking lives if you want to exact revenge,” he’s not gentle about it and you’re thankful, it’s the reminder you need. 

[“Am I going alone?”]

“You can handle it, of that I have no doubt,” he gets up from the couch. “All the details you need have been sent. It shouldn’t take you long.” 

He leaves without another word.

For a man that’s supposed to be in hiding, your target sure loves leaving himself open.

You’ve been watching him for an entire day now and he still hasn’t realised. You mentally add ‘stupid’ into his list of attributes.

Thirty-four year old Finn Lewis had done a few odd jobs for Sylus and thought he could turn around and sell information about the boss. Of course, it had been intercepted before it could go through and Finn at least had the sense to run.

There’s not much more to say about him. Your ordinary drunk that beats his wife and daughter.

Unfortunately for him he had underestimated your boss, evident with the way he’s prancing about in the street with no care. You shiver thinking of being on the run from Sylus. If it had been you in Finn’s position, you would have dug your grave yourself and gotten in.

There’s an empty warehouse nearby where you’ve set up, you don’t know how but the report knew he would be in this area around this time. It’s the perfect spot to complete your job, there are no cameras around and not that many people either.

Which is what makes it easy to get him to spot you. You’ve seduced many people before, all it takes is a simple smile from you and he’s frothing at the mouth. You turn to the direction of your destination before making a gesture for him to follow. And the fool does.

You feel insulted at how easy this is. 

You wait for him to enter the warehouse, he doesn’t sense you sneak up on him and in no time, he’s collapsed on the floor in front of you.

When Finn awakens, his head hurts. His eyesight is blurry and he feels something drip down his face. He goes to touch it but finds he can’t, the rope around him constricting his every movement. Panic settles in and he screams.

They die in his throat as he realises he’s not alone. Someone is sitting right in front of him. As his eyes focus on the figure, he recognises her. It’s the girl who had lured him in here. She has her legs crossed, resting her hand on her palm as she watches him. Her gaze is scary, she looks at him like he’s worthless.

He doesn’t have control.

He hasn’t had it for a lot of his life. Finn has always been under the thumb of someone else, forced to humiliate himself on a daily basis for the entertainment of others. It’s easy for him to beg.

“P-please, I meant no harm,” the girl tilts her head at him.

“You work for Onychinus, r-right?”

She nods.

He licks his lips, his throat is parched. “T-then you know what it’s like! It’s all a misunderstanding! I’m just a weak nobody,” his voice picks up as he realises she’s listening intently, filled with hope that he might get out of this alive.

The girl instead smiles, like he had said something amusing.

He gets angry at how easily she brushes him off. “You fucking bitch! I’m gonna kill you with bare hands.”

You had been so wrong.

You’re filled with amusement, relishing in the fact that this pathetic excuse of a human was going to die by your hands. His rant goes ignored as you think of the numerous ways you could do this. What would be a befitting end for a man like this?

Let me.

A voice speaks in your head.

Let me teach you.

It wraps itself around you. It’s hand slowly traces up your back before landing on your shoulder. The other grasps your chin until you’re looking back at the man in front of you. The hand on your shoulder lets go and plunges into the deep depths of your mind, moulding it to do its bidding.

Ruin him , it whispers.

Change him , it screams.

But keep him alive , it cackles. 

You suddenly stand up, shocking the man who freezes when he notices your changed deamour. Your eyes are blank as you stare at him, your moves robotic - like you’re being controlled - as you step towards him. 

You have your orders.

“W-wait!”

Ruin him. Ruin him. Ruin him. 

Your hand reaches for him.

“No!”

Change him. Change him. Change him.

He lets out an excruciating scream when you touch him.

You wake up with a gasp on a cold stone floor. Your mind is a mess as you try to remember what happened. All you can remember is your mission.

Your head snaps to where the man should be. But he’s gone. The chair he was sitting on is toppled over, ropes on the floor. You don’t even feel panic, too busy gaping in shock at something else.

It stands proud in the same spot the man had been in. Its leaves are a vibrant green. How it managed to grow so strong without any sun or dirt you don’t know. You step forward.

It calls to you.

It’s hauntingly beautiful.

It’s your creation.

Your fingers trace over the bark, not rough to touch but soft and firm instead. When you remove your hand, red coats your fingertips. You step back, the ridges of the bark seem to make a picture.

Like a face in agony.

But keep him alive…

Zayne: I’m going to kill you. Sylus: Not if I kill you first. Reader: Kiss, kiss, fall in love~

On a more serious note, I'm expanding more on reader's lore. Any theories on who this mystery voice that can control her is?

You know why he’s here. You can feel your heart breaking at the realisation but you hide it all. Nothing on you gives away any feeling. It’s not fair to the man, he’d been honest to you from the start that nothing real would ever form between you two. He told you all about the woman he truly loved, the one he was waiting for. You don’t feel any malice for her, from the way he had described her, she was an astonishing person, someone who deserved a man like him by her side.

“I’m guessing you found her,” your smile is soft because even though it hurts, his happiness wins over your desires. 

“Yes.”

“Okay,” you know what’s coming. The two of you had discussed this. “I guess that's it,” you follow up. 

“This is goodbye then, Sylus.”

“Goodbye.”

Sylus doesn’t know what to feel as he walks away from you.

He shouldn’t be this conflicted. It was never meant to be difficult. 

He was never meant to get attached.

Whatever the two of you had was always transactional. He had sought you out - a hacker with excellent capabilities - you had a reputation around the N109 zone. At first the both of you kept a clear distance, your help made his operations a lot easier. As time progressed so did whatever it was between the both of you. He made sure to keep his intentions clear, it wouldn’t be fair otherwise.

It was just sex, he told himself as he held you in his arms.

It was just sex, he told himself as he kissed you.

It was just sex, he told himself as he caressed you.

He repeats those same words now as he walks away.

Six months pass and not a day goes by when he doesn’t think of you.

Things with Miss Hunter never take off. Her heart now belongs with someone else and Sylus doesn’t even care. He’s the only one who remembers their past together, there’s no need to burden her with the memories. Instead, the two become fast friends. 

One night, he finds himself telling her about you. She offers no kind words as she berates him for leaving you. 

“You idiot! You’re clearly in love with her. What are you still doing here?”

He’s back at your apartment. He found himself here a lot these last months, simply standing outside but never knocking. For he had left you, what right does he have to come back in your life?

He knocks this time.

No response.

“[Name]?”

Nothing. 

Sylus has been in the game for a long time, one thing he’s learnt is to never avoid his instincts. They had helped him with never making deals with the wrong people, and helped him with finding the right person to trust.

And right now, those instincts were screaming that something was wrong.

He easily bypasses the electric lock on your door. What greets him inside is nothing. All the walls are devoid of any decorations, the photos you had up of your deceased family and current friends are gone. There’s no furniture anywhere. The entire place has been swept clean, not a speck of dirt left behind.

If someone figured out how to leave the N109 zone, it would be you.

Five years and six more months have gone by. Not a single trace of you has been found, you haven’t made it easy with your capabilities. None of your friends know where you are. You’ve left everyone behind.

He still hasn’t given up, no matter how long it takes, he will find you. Mephisto misses you. The twins miss you. 

Sylus misses you.

The little girl stares back at him.

“Are you Stylus? Mummy said to give this to you,” she pronounces his name wrong. With red eyes and white hair, it doesn’t take a genius to know who this kid is. She hands him a letter. 

“It’s Sylus,” he explains. The kid blinks at him, clearly not expecting such a deep voice. As he rips the letter open, the kid repeats his name over and over again.

Sylus,

If it is you reading this letter then I suppose you’ve met Ruby.

He looks back into those red eyes that mirror his. His daughter’s name is Ruby…how fitting.

“What is your favourite gem?” he asked as the both of you perused the collection.

He watches as you pick you out a gem and hold it next to his eye. “Perfect match,” you grin at him. 

“Right now it’s rubies.”

He brings the kid inside, get’s her situated while he reads the rest.

I would have told you but I only figured out I was pregnant when I had already left. I tried to get in touch but the number you gave me no longer worked and I was not going into that area while pregnant or with a child in my arms.

I’ll admit a part of me didn’t want to, I was afraid you wouldn’t accept our child. That I would ruin your future with your hunter.

I know deep down that you’re not that kind of man but even I get insecure sometimes.

I don’t know how but some shady organisation discovered she’s your child. I have a theory that one of them must have met you and if you’ve seen Ruby, then it’s obvious. I did some digging on this organisation and it’s not good. At first I thought they were some small fry but I’ve discovered transactions that go deep, they have a lot of rich people in their pockets which means they’re very powerful. What they have against you, I have no idea. They’re good at covering their tracks.

It’s why I sent Ruby to you, you’ll be able to protect her. 

I made them think that I was running away with her while I sent her alone to you. I led them away so she could get to you.

Don’t come looking for me. If I’m successful in tricking them then I’ll come to you and we can finally have the conversation we should have had years ago. If I don’t come back, then I’m dead. I offer no leverage to these people so they’ll kill me.

I’ve attached a hard drive containing all the information I have on them, with your resources it should be easy to end them.

Take care of Ruby for me, okay? She’s all I have. Tell her I love her so much.

P.S. she’s allergic to nuts, her bag has epipens but make sure to keep many around the house! She also needs a story every night or she’s not going to sleep. She has a lot of energy (I blame you for that) so make sure to burn it out of her every day. She has a sweet tooth but don’t give in! She’ll flash you puppy eyes but you have to stay strong, she’s a menace and she knows it.

You don’t sign it with your name but you don’t have to. It’s clear the letter is from you.

The familiar sensation of regret wraps its arms around him. You had been pregnant when he left you. All this time, you had dealt with it all on your own. You might die on your own too.

He can’t have that happen.

A small hand tugs at his pants. 

“Are you my dad? You look like me,” Ruby asks.

He leans down and pokes her cheek. “You look like me, I’m older,” he says softly. 

It’s the confirmation the girl needs, her walls crumble around her father. Tears gather in her eyes. “Will mummy be okay? I want her back.”

Without thinking, he cradles the girl into his arms. His shirt becomes wet with her tears. 

He’s already failed you twice. There won’t be a third time.

“I’ll bring her back.”

He doesn’t really care much for birthdays. 

But his family does. Many find it funny how such a stoic kid can belong to outgoing and extroverted parents. He wonders the same. 

The party is in their backyard, his parents wanted something extravagant but his wishes won in the end. It was easy to pull the ‘it’s my birthday’ card, he doesn’t ask for much often so he gets what he wants on the rare occasions he does.

Banners are strung up everywhere. His mother’s work. She’s also put balloons everywhere and decorated everything. Despite his wishes she had gotten a bouncy castle. He felt he was too old for it but his classmates seemed to enjoy it. He wasn’t close with the people in his year level, he didn’t know how to be friends with them and they saw him as cold. 

He doesn’t have to be a genius - though he is - to see that none of them want to be here. They give him strained smiles while their parents stand behind them, the reason as to why his classmates have been forced to attend. He almost feels bad for them.

They all disperse into their own groups after telling him a half-assed ‘Happy birthday’ and thrusting their gifts into his hand. He tosses the gifts to the pile, not interested in the contents. He’s more than happy to stay at the side, book in hand. It’s on the reading list for an upcoming subject and he likes to be prepared.

Besides, the actual people he wanted couldn’t make it. Caleb had a school trip and Mara was down with food poisoning. She had called him in tears, letting him know she couldn’t make it this morning with promises to make it up to him. Though a little disappointed, he wished her a well recovery and told her not to worry. That just left-

“Happy birthday, zayniee.” 

You. 

It left you.

You’re wearing a cute jumper, blue ombre in colour. He remembers when you had started knitting it. You’ve paired it with a black skirt and black tights. You’re wearing earrings in the shape of blue ribbons. You look cute. You’re smiling at him softly and there’s a rectangle box in your hands. It’s wrapped in brown paper with an ice blue ribbon and a card on the box. He’s intrigued. 

You hand him the box and he takes it. Instead of tossing it like the rest, he keeps it on his lap. 

You take the seat next to him, your legs don’t reach the floor so you settle for swinging them. “I’m sorry the others couldn’t make it. They felt bad.” He can’t imagine Caleb feeling sad for missing his birthday. He has no idea why the rascal didn’t like him. “It’s fine. It can’t be helped.” You just give another soft smile.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence as he continues reading his book.

“Oh, is that Monomania?”

He glances at you. “You’ve read it?”

“Yeah, I got bored one day. I liked it, the author did well balancing the themes of obsession and going too far but it also fell flat in many areas.”

He hums, an invitation to continue. “You want a small spoiler about the ending?” you ask. He turns to you and contemplates for a second before agreeing. 

“You won’t like it.”

“Like what?”

“The ending.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s more of a fairytale ending than the one even I anticipated.” 

“Is that what you think of me? Cold?”

“Not at all. But even you can’t deny that you can be a little…logical.”

“Hmm.” 

Of course you end up being right when he finishes the book the next day, a happy ending was not needed for a book like this. It ruined his morning a little. His parents didn’t notice the subtle pout on his face.

His mother calls everyone over to cut the cake. It’s ice-themed. He doesn’t like it. He feels you lean in towards him, touching each other’s shoulders. “At least it’s not a carrot cake,” you comfort him. 

At least it’s not a carrot cake, he repeats in his head. It’s weird how you always seemed to know the right thing to say. You seem to understand him a lot. He doesn’t know how to feel about it.

The both of you enjoy the cake together. Your love for sweets was the biggest thing you had in common.

After, it’s time to unwrap the gifts. He doesn’t mean to be unappreciative but it's clear his classmates don’t know him all too well. He’s left with unimaginative gifts like socks or simple clothing. He’ll just donate them.

A familiar brown wrapped box sits in front of him. He unconsciously saved it for last. He’s careful with unwrapping it, you’re watching him with anticipation and the last thing needed is for him to disappoint you with his reaction. The card on the box doesn’t say the stereotypical ‘Happy Birthday Zayne’ like the rest had. 

You’ve given him a coupon instead. ‘Ask [Name] to make you whatever sweet you desire’ is on it. Towards the bottom are five punch holes. He’ll have to be careful with his decisions. Your sweets are on a whole other world on their own, he’ll have to savour them. 

He removes the wrapping, it’s a vintage record player still in mint condition. You beam at the awed look in his eyes. There’s two vinyl records underneath. “They work, don’t worry. I wasn’t sure about your music taste so I picked at random. The shop I found had many more, I’ll take you there.” 

He flashes you a small smile. “Thank you,” he says softly. He’s never mentioned liking music around you or even talked about record players but the gift screams him in a shocking way.

You stare at him frozen for a second. He doesn’t realise you’re flustered when you avoid eye contact.

Maybe birthdays aren’t so bad. 

“I’m surprised [Name] isn’t with you. The two of you are always attached at the hip.” When leaving for the new cafe that had opened up, the last thing he expected to happen was meeting his childhood friend again. 

Mara was taller now. A hunter, he thinks feeling annoyed. She has a heart condition and chose one of the most extraneous jobs. It’s just like her. He remembers how [Name] had supported her in this endeavor. Zayne had missed you all these years. To everyone’s surprise, the two of you had become fast friends. He doesn’t understand how a warm person like you sought friendship in him but he’s glad you did. He regrets not keeping in touch.

He’s taken aback at the tears that gather in Mara’s dark brown eyes at his question. She’s grown to be a beautiful woman but his heart remains unaffected. He tries to imagine what you look like now.

Did they fight? He brushes the thought off. There’s no way the two of you would end up not friends. No the only reason he can come with for a separation is-

His eyes widened. 

No. No. No. 

“She’s dead.”

Mara had shown him where your grave was, right next to your parents. She’s waiting in the car while he visits you.

In his mind you had achieved your dream of being a bakery owner and were happy. It’s what you deserved.

He’s disgusted in himself. He’d run away like a coward in his childhood. He missed the extra years with you the others got. While he was busy with med school and then becoming a doctor, you were dead. You’d been dead this whole time and he had no idea.

He’ll spend the next few years just thinking. Thinking of you, of everything about you he can commit to memory. The only place you exist is in the minds of those you’ve left behind. He’ll think of missed chances and regrets. Sometimes he allows himself to fall into the what ifs, imagining a future with you that would never come to pass. These moments were rare, he only indulged in them at his weakest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to your grave.

It’s all he can say.

You had decided it would be best to keep your wishes to disappear to yourself. The twins would never break their allegiance to Sylus, not that you ever wanted them to. No, in the N109 zone, the only person you can fully trust is you. 

You had stayed up that night and came up with a mental checklist for escape. 

1. Find your own place. Not in the N109 zone. 

“No,” Sylus tells you. You’re standing before him in his office. He’s not even looking at you, too busy with the paperwork in front of him. His words bring a pout to your face.

[Why not?] 

“Because I said so. You’re not getting your own place. You have everything you need right here. You’re not leaving.” You glare at him and a hint of amusement flickers in his eyes. You hate that he never takes you seriously. “End of discussion.”

Taking in a deep breath - to calm the need to strangle him, it doesn’t work - you reluctantly relent. Instead you ask for something else. 

[Can I go visit my brother?]

It bruises your ego to ask for permission to do anything. You’re not a child, you’re nearly the age you were when you died the first time. But the N109 zone isn’t one you can just enter and leave when you want, unless you’re someone like Sylus. 

Your words stop him, he pushes away from the work on his desk. His attention is now fixed on you, his gaze leaves you on edge. Nearly two years have been spent with him and you still have no idea how to read him. It's frustrating, being able to read people has always been your strong suit, it helped with the constant manipulation you would pull. You had been happy to do his bidding without question before and now you regret the amount of control he has on you. 

“Why would I do that?” he crosses his arms. 

[Because it’s my brother…?]

He narrows his eyes at you.

“Why would I do that?” he repeats. 

[Because I just found out he’s alive and I want to see him. Not to meet him, I’ll watch from a distance. I just have to see him with my own eyes.] You give him a pleading look. He sighs and looks away, taking a few seconds to agree before looking at you again.

“Fine,” he reluctantly agrees. “But you know the ordeal by now. Do something for me in return.”

Ugh everything is always a business deal with him. 

“Sit,” he commands, gesturing at the chairs in front of him. You do.

He takes the glasses off his face. A shame. He looked very sophisticated in them. “That doctor you mentioned, there’s still nothing on her,” every month the two of you would meet and he’d relay the information he had found out and in the last year, not even a sentence could be written down. It left the both of you frustrated.

[Do you think..]

“That we have a traitor amongst us? Yes I’m sure of it now,” he finishes the thought for you. There’s a tick in his jaw. You don’t blame him, moles are annoying to deal with normally. But here in the N109 zone finding one is like finding a needle in a haystack. Everyone is a mole here. Finding the right one will be hard.

“Don’t worry, I already have a trap settled for our little rat. We’ll find them.”

His words don’t comfort you. They meant he’d known about the mole for a while, at least long enough to come up with a plan. Before your mind can go on a tirade at your developing distaste for your boss, he interrupts you. 

“Moving on, I’m sending you on your first mission.” You keep his stare. “After you come back from seeing your brother. Make sure to have no contact with anyone. No one can know you’re alive. Also remember to take your phone this time. Got it?”

Ah right. The phone he’d given you was rarely used. There was no point, all the people you communicated with lived under one roof and you all used Meph as a phone anyways. 

You nod. 

[Cross my heart and hope to die.]

He glares at you, not impressed.

That’s how you find yourself, staring at the mirror in your bathroom. 

Sylus had given you three days to visit Ei.

The weather in Linkon will be cold so you make sure to dress up in a nice wool coat. You have a small bag with you, there’s a few outfits in there and way too many pairs of undergarments. You’re not taking any chances. There’s a key to the hotel room Sylus had booked for you in there. The problem is the very large and very visible scar across your throat. You lift your head up a little to check it out. It’s still bright red. Your finger’s trail over it. The scar doesn’t feel as thick as it used to be but it’ll draw attention. You decide to take a scarf with you. 

You still haven’t decided on how to feel about it. On one hand, it’s frustrating not being able to talk. It gets in the way of your everyday life. Even if you can sign now, many people don’t understand it so you have to carry a tablet around. Your torturers/killers had taken so much from you that it doesn’t hurt emotionally that they’ve taken your ability to talk as well. On the other hand, you’ve gotten used to not speaking. No longer do you remember what you sound like.

Ah, well. No point dwelling on it.

Sylus will show you how to leave the N109 zone. The way he does. 

You feel like an imposter being back.

You had once built a life here but that’s been gone for a long time. You no longer have a place here.

First order of business is to visit the library, after you check into your hotel of course. The looks you receive all go ignored. You’re not humble about them, you’re aware of your beauty. 

You peruse the selection of books but none of them interest you. Sylus already had a vast collection and you weren’t interested to add to them. You weren’t here for the books either. No, you were here for the computers. 

You walk over to one and set your bag on the table. Sitting down, you turn it on. A book and a pen are retrieved from the bag. The purpose of your visit is to look for places available. A simple one bed will do. Hell, you’ll even take - you shudder at the thought - a studio. You browse through all the available properties, noting their addresses down.

Maybe if Sylus hadn’t proven time and time again he can’t be trusted then you would have accepted his ‘no’ without fighting. But, you have to look after yourself first. Besides, the small act of rebellion soothes you, you had grown a bit too complacent. He’ll find out, Sylus has too many ways of tracking you. The very phone he had given you which was currently in your bag for one. Mephisto for another, the city was loud and filled with people, everything is noisy so you have to really concentrate to hear the bird. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to be following you. 

Second order of business is the graveyard, flagging down a taxi, you show the driver the address written on your book.

You walk by your own gravestone and you try your best not to register your parents’. You’re not ready. You stand before the gravestone you’re here for.

Caleb Xia.

He really died. 

You hadn’t been there.

He was dead.

And you weren’t there. 

Some friend you were. Your mind remains oddly blank as you stand in front of him. It’s not like you can even say anything to him. Not even the lies that easily roll off your tongue. You turn to leave.

Third order of business.

Akso Hospital. 

Zayne doesn’t believe in ghosts.

Not when his coworkers tell each other stories of those that took their last breath in the hospital, now doomed to forever roam the grounds. Not when Mara would tell him “spooky” stories to try and freak him out (it never works, he has no idea why she hasn’t given up). 

So then, why is there a ghost standing in front of him? 

The woman standing before him looks just like you - a grown up version of you. The rational part of him tries to answer, it’s just a coincidence that they look similar. It’s just a coincidence that the lady is standing right in front of the hospital room where your brother currently resides.

Just a coincidence. 

There’s no way you’re alive. There’s no way its you wearing that long black winter coat with the black scarf around your neck. The coat practically swallows the woman up, nothing about her body can be seen. It’s not you because you hated keeping your hair long. It’s not you because you'd never sport that dead emotionless look on your eyes. It’s not you because you loved sleeping and you would never have eye bags that huge.

It can’t be you.

As a doctor, he’s treated a variety of people, especially those who have experienced trauma. But his mind (heart) can’t accept the way you look. He never thought he would see you so broken. Just what have you gone through all these years?

The doctor in him is screaming. Yelling to stop standing there and fix you. 

He watches silently, frozen, as you contemplate entering the room. Your hand remains on the door handle, the window in it showing you the view of your brother inside. Eiden hasn’t noticed you, he’s fast asleep. The image of his rest calms you down. It’s a good thing he can still sleep peacefully. 

The ghost looks painfully human as she steps away from the door. You still haven’t made a single sound, even your steps are quiet. He sees you close your eyes for a few seconds, your hands come up to rub your arms, an effort to ground or comfort yourself. When they reopen you look more focused. You’ve made up your mind on something when you sharply turn and end up looking right at him.

He sees your eyes widen in shock. In realisation. He can no longer convince himself you’re a ghost or another woman, there’s no denying it. It’s you. 

The two of you remain frozen where you stand. Neither party makes a move. Neither of you speak either.

You break the moment by running away.

He watches as you leave him again. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Zayne wasn’t supposed to be working but when is a doctor’s schedule reliable? You saw him listed as Eiden’s doctor and you weren’t even surprised. No matter how hard you try to stay away from the main cast, your fate seems to be thread right through theirs. Fuck. You should’ve made a plan just in case. When has anything in this horrible world gone right for you???

You try to look for a taxi. Hell you’ll even break into a car if you have to. Anything to get out of here.

Your mind is unreliable in moments of panic. Every thought is dramatised and the actions you end up taking go too far. You’ll come up with a simpler solution later but by then the damage will often be done leaving you with regrets.

Oh my god, I should just kill myself. Yup, that’ll fix it.

The last thing you wanted was to see Zayne again. He’ll tell everyone, you can’t have that.

I should just kill him then! 

Before you can enact terrible crimes, your psychotic thoughts are thankfully halted at the hand on your shoulder.

You shove your shoulder away, stepping back until there’s a good distance between you. Zayne sees the fear in your eyes and his movements stop. 

“It’s you,” he finally says in awe.

You can’t look him in the eyes, there’s too many things in there for you to decipher. 

“[Name],” he calls out again. That gets your attention. It’s been so long since you’ve heard another say your name. Even after Sylus found out your real identity, he never acknowledged the name. As far as the world knows, [Name] is dead. 

He tries to take a step towards you but your eyes are trained on him, when he notices the dread on your face, he stays in place.

“Please…just don’t leave,” he begs. It’s so uncharacteristic of him but you’ve always been weak to a pretty man begging.

“Just wait,” he checks his watch, “for thirty minutes. I get off work and we can talk. That’s it. I only want to talk.” The desperation in his voice freezes any hesitation in your mind. Memories rush in your head, the two of you had been so close once. He’d never done you wrong.

[Only if you promise you won’t tell anyone.] It’s a gamble whenever you sign, fifty percent in your favour, either the person knows the language or they don’t. But if there’s one person you’d think did know, it would be Zayne. Besides, your hands are far too shaky to write.

As expected he looks surprised at the movement of your hands. “Why are you…” he notices the ‘don’t ask’ expression on your face. “Fine. I won’t tell anyone if you wait,” he clears his throat and gathers himself. His voice is clearer when he speaks again. “There’s a cafe down the street, wait for me there. It’s going to rain soon,” he hands you his credit card. His eyes show relief when you take it. His phone beeps and when he checks it you know he’s needed. You won’t let him choose between his responsibilities and you so you relent.

[I’ll be waiting.]

He gives you a small smile, there’s a thousand questions on his face that he doesn’t ask.

Zayne watches you through the glass of the cafe. 

You’re sitting at a two-person table. There’s an empty coffee cup in front of you, its warmth long gone. You haven’t ordered any food which worries him. He’d never known you to give up free food.

All his previous attempts of envisioning you grown up fall spectacularly against the real deal. The lashes on your eyes that he wants to count individually. The blemishes on your face have him wanting to know how they got there. The long nails you have that seem almost inhuman have him intrigued. Every part of you tells a story he desperately wants to know but it’s a tale you’re not ready to divulge. 

Maybe you’d rather have Mara around. Zayne isn’t the type of person people go to for comfort. He understands that. He can’t give you what you need.

But, fuck, he’s going to try. For you.

You take notice of him when he enters the cafe. Instead of going straight to you, he walks over to the counter. You watch him confused at the action until he returns with two plates. One has a strawberry shortcake and the other is a chocolate cherry tart. Your eyes lit up at the sweets and he suppressed the laugh bubbling in his throat. He notices your focus on the shortcake and places it in front of you.

None of you say anything, simply picking up your spoons and digging in. Then, like it's second nature, you pick your plate up and Zayne does the same, you put the shortcake in front of him and he gives you the tart. Neither of you can help the wide grins you bear when you realise what you both have done. An old memory resurfaces in your mind.

The five of you are currently on your way to the park, walking through the town. It’s a nice sunny day and none of you had anything going on so why not enjoy each other’s company? 

Calen, Mara and Eiden are at the front, talking animatedly with each other. You and Zayne are walking behind silent. 

“What do you think [Na-” Mara cuts her own words off when she looks back to you and realises that neither you or Zayne are there. The three of them retrace their steps and find the both of you by the bakery, your faces nearly pressed up against the glass.

“They’re at it again,” Caleb says, annoyed. “Why were we even surprised,” Eiden comments. Mara can’t help but watch on in jealousy. You were her friend, it’s her you should be doing stuff like this with.

“Those weren’t there last week,” you let Zayne know, two pairs of eyes trained at the batch of desserts displayed through the glass. “You’re right.” The two of you waste no time entering.

“C’mon,” Caleb grabs the wrists of the two people by his side, leading them away. “We’ll come back for them, they’re in their own world now.” At least he won’t have to share Mara with you today.

Zayne and you have developed a ritual of sorts. Since you’re both just children, you can’t buy all the sweets you’d like to. Each of you only carries enough money for a singular sweet on your person. So, you each order a different one and share. You order a sachertorte while he gets the mille-feuille. 

The both of you sit down and only take two bites. The first to taste the desert and the second to confirm if it is actually good. You groan at the thick chocolate and moisture of the cake, “It’s really good.” Zayne has to be careful with his, it’s made of puff pastry and can easily crack. “The custard in this is perfect,” he lets you know. You swap your plates around and try the second one.

The lecture you’ll end up getting from your parents about having too many sweets is worth it.

The smiles don’t wear off as you reminisce. 

There’s the smile he looked for in each passing person.

The both of you just stare into each other’s eyes, the words of the others in the shop blur out. The comfortable silence you often shared with him in your childhood returns, two pairs of eyes do all the talking. You break the contact by blinking and that breaks him out of his stupor. 

“I..” his words trail off as he overthinks what he’s going to say. You try to give him a comforting smile.

“I won’t ask about what happened. I won’t ask about why you’re not speaking either just…” your breath hitches at the look he gives you, mixed with desperation and yearning. “Let me examine you. Then I’ll be at ease.” 

Your gaze falls over the empty coffee cup as you consider his words. [I don’t do well with hospitals…or doctors really.] 

“That’s fine. We can go to my place,” he negotiates.

You should say no. You should walk out of here and never come back to him, your mind screams at you.

But it’s Zayne. The same Zayne who had left when he hurt the girl he cared about, Mara, not able to deal causing pain to someone he loved. The same Zayne who became a cardiologist to try and make it up to her. 

At your discomfort, a smile adorns his face. “I’m glad to see at least something hasn’t changed,” he muses.

You shoot him a confused look. He pauses, a look of contemplation in his eyes, wondering if he should continue his thought. He does.

“When we were kids you hated being taken care of, even by your family. Almost like you didn’t believe you deserved it,” he explained. “It didn’t stop you from caring for everyone else though.”

You didn’t think anyone noticed your guilt.

There’s a gentle flick to your forehead, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look up at him in awe. “Many are not fortunate to have those who cherish them, so stop running,” his voice is in a whisper, soothing as always.

Ironically, he speaks nearly the same words you had to Caleb. You were always the biggest hypocrite you’ve met.

[Okay.]

The ride to his place is silent.

True to his word, it starts to pour heavily. You worry for Mara when you can hear thunder. Is she still afraid of it? Your gaze is out the window, committing each image to memory. Fauna and flora were scarce in the N109 zone but they flourish here in Linkon city. It’s nice to see. Linkon city looks so alive compared to what you’ve become used to.

Zayne opens the door for you as you get out of the car. His house is just what one would expect of him. White and black are the primary colours. Everything is placed neatly and organised in a fitting manner. It still feels like a home, you can tell the place is cherished. 

“Come to my office,” he leads you into a room. He gestures for you to sit at the chair by his desk and you do. 

His hand reaches for your scarf. “I’m going to take this off now. Is that okay?” You nod and wait with bated breath as he works on removing it, gently pulling out any hair tangled in it. His gaze is like steel when he sees the scar. You stop breathing all together when his fingers trace over it before removing them completely, his hand clenched into a ball by his side. Even his anger is silent. 

[It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt at all. I’ll speak again, don’t worry.] You don’t like seeing him like that. His eyes soften at your words. Only you would try and comfort him about your injury. He kneels before you, hands reaching your left one. He looks over the injury he had caused. He doesn’t have to speak for you to hear his thoughts. You pull your hand out of his.

[Not your fault.]

“How did you stop me that day?”

When you don’t make a move to sign, he sighs. Another secret…

“Neverm-”

[If I knew I would tell you. Truth is my body moved on its own that day. I haven’t done it since then.]

“Ah.” 

You can’t help the giddiness as you look over the boy you used to know. He’s become a man now, he’s become the Zayne you used to squeal over. Part of you misses the chubbiness he had in his face but the other part appreciated the sharp look he has now. He’s grown even more taller, and his clothes do a bad job of hiding the muscles underneath. And - oh wow- his eyes are so beautiful. You could look at them all day and never be bored.

Due to his stoicism, many like to paint him as a cold and indifferent person. You yourself thought he’d be like that with you, that his kindness was only reserved for the MC. You had been proven wrong every step of the way. You know better now.

That unlike his evol, Zayne is warm. Not in the way of body temperature or even his outward personality. He was warm in the way he adores animals. In the unique way he shows his care. In his touch. In the way he’d always been careful to never hurt your feelings growing up. You could go on about him all day. None of these things were noticeable at a first meeting with him, maybe even the second but you’re glad he let you in so you could learn them.

You have no doubt that he’s an amazing doctor. His patients must feel so lucky knowing that their physician will advocate for them and has their back. There are only four people that restore your faith in humanity and he’s one of them.

Without thinking, your hand reaches out and cradles his face. He lets out a gasp at the contact before engulfing your hand with his and leaning his face into your hand further. His eyes close and the peaceful expression on his face does not help the erratic beating of your heart.  

“I’ll make some tea. Would you like that?” He’s staring at you so earnestly as he kneels, your hands still touching. You lick your suddenly dry lips, all too aware of how his eyes follow the muscle. You nod. This was getting too intimate. He lets go of your hand and stands up. “I’ll be back,” he says.

You decide to survey his office while you wait. The chair you’re sitting on is comfortable. What catches your attention is the bookshelf mounted on the wall. You stand up and walk over to it. Your fingers trace over the spines.The books on it are mostly medical journals and none of them interest you. You stop before an item, one very familiar to you.

A record player.

You remember how frantically you had gone into every shop you came across, looking for a fitting gift. To your luck, you came across a shop with vintage goods. There had been many, in various colours but you thought Zayne would appreciate the dark wood one. The record player was small enough to carry in one’s arms. You picked out two music tracks to go with it. To your utter relief he had loved the gift. 

The shop had become a regular place to go with Zayne. It had a variety of vinyl records as well but they were expensive. The two of you would save up for them one by one. You helped him amass quite a collection. 

“You noticed it,” his words don’t surprise you. His steps in the kitchen and the noises of him preparing the tea were all clear to you, so was him making his way back. He’s holding a tray with two steaming cups on it. He sets it down on the desk and walks towards you.

[I can’t believe you still have it.] He shoots you an incredulous look. “Of course I did. I make sure to keep it in good condition as well.” He goes over to his desk, pulling out a drawer. The record in his hands is one you know very well. All the artists on these records were unknown to you and this record is no exception. Except for the fact that you ended up becoming a huge fan of the artist. It’s a classical melody. The notes are simple but are so hauntingly beautiful. It’s engraved into your heart.

[It’s our song.]

“Yes it is.”

He places the record onto the player. Familiar music begins playing. You close your eyes to take it in, your head bopping to the tune. Zayne watches as you do the same notion you had when he first played the record. It’s soothing that some old parts of you still remain.

When your eyes open, you stare in shock at his outstretched hand. His cheeks glow with a red hue.

“Indulge me.”

Please. 

You stare at his palm.

What are you thinking, Zayne? She’s not ready for something like-

You place your hand in his. 

He stares in awe at the flustered look you have. It’s him that’ll need a heart transplant if you keep this up.

Your fingers lace together and he uses the momentum to gently pull you closer. His other hand goes on your lower back while you keep yours on his upper arm. You push your face into his chest as you sway together, you can’t handle looking into his eyes. You dance for a while completely unaware of the turmoil in his mind.

You feel his face move closer to your head. He places a tender kiss to the side of your head. Everything you’ve been holding in seems to break. He holds you tighter when he feels you shake, the wet of your tears decorate his neck. His hand caresses your head over and over again. It’s comfort at its best.

“I’m here,” he whispers against your head. “Let it all out.” It kills him inside how much you seem to need this. How he can’t even hear your cries. It’s fine, he’ll take whatever you give him.

Later, Zayne carries you to his bed. You had cried in his arms for nearly an hour until you passed out from the exhaustion. He lowers you onto the bed, making sure to take the coat off. Pulling the duvet over you, he sits down by your side and examines your face. Your eyes were puffy from the tears but it looked like you really needed this.

As much as he doesn’t want to, he gets up to leave. His movement is stopped by a hand on his wrist. ‘Stay,’ you mouth at him. You push yourself to the other side of the bed, patting the spot you were previously on. He gets on and settles in. You give him a sleepy smile and doze off.

He doesn’t sleep.

Watching you is enough.

You should’ve left. You should’ve gotten into a car and drove off. You should not have stayed. Because you’ve given a very desperate man a taste of you and he’s not letting you go now.

~~~

For a second no one speaks.

Sylus lingers for a little bit before walking by you, leaving you two alone. His hand lightly brushes yours in comfort, it helps.

You’re both grateful for having this moment be just between you two but the hammering in your heart wishes he would stay, so you wouldn’t be alone as she stares at you in a mixture of awe and confusion.

She’s grown a little taller, something to be expected after all these years but you still tower over her. The memories of all the times you used to tease her about it nearly make you smile. No longer does she sport the long fringed hairstyle, now it’s cut off at her shoulders, oddly reminding you of the way you used to have it styled in your shared childhood. She’s dyed it red. It suits her.

Red means passion.

But it can also be for danger.

She fits into the hunter uniform better than your imagination had served you. The white shirt fits so snug, you can just see a hint of the muscles underneath. It’s intoxicating.

But it’s clear she hasn’t been taking care of herself. Deep eye bags have settled under her eyes, which flicker constantly in exhaustion. You don’t blame her, not after she’s lost two of the most important people in her life at the same time. Not after losing you.

Her eyes give nothing away as they take in every inch of you. You feel your breath catching in your throat as she does so.

Do you look okay?

Will she be disappointed?

You’re no longer the girl who used to smile easily, who gave care out like it was nothing, who expected nothing in return.

But you can be for her. You’ll be anyone for her.

You’ll do anything.

For her, sacrifice means nothing.

Time seems to slow down with each step she takes toward you, drawing the moment out leaving you on edge. And so fucking nervous.

Your heart might give out when a hand comes up to cradle your face – not in affection but to touch and feel if the skin beneath is real.

“I-is this some type of trick,” she whispers finally, eyes glossed in tears. You violently shake your head in response. For the first time, anger courses through you for your situation. You curse the people who took you, who so effortlessly captured your ability to speak. No longer are you numb to the pain they afflicted upon you, not when you can’t tell her so.

All you can do is hold her in your arms as she collapses into tears. Whether from the overwhelming incident currently occurring or because her exhaustion has finally caught up, you don’t care. Not as you cradle her soft body against yours.

[Name], she whispers into your skin. Repeating it over and over again.

It’s easy to carry Mara out of the room, she feels too small in them, too skinny from lack of eating. You’ll have to remedy that during her stay here, she’s lived without yours and Caleb’s food for too long.

Sylus greets you as you exit, one eyebrow raising in controlled surprise. “Take her into your room,” he softly commands.

Mara wakes up in soft sheets with a killer headache.

Her hand comes up to rub the throbbing her temple, smiling softly as she recalls her dream. At least in this one, she got to see how you would look grown up. At least in this one, it wasn’t your young self asking why she had failed you.

None of her fantasies compared to what she dreamt of last night. The length of your hair, the shape of your body, how you had felt so real – how you had wrapped your arms around her. Years of loneliness had disappeared in that moment, for a while you were by her side and all was alright with the world.

For a while.

But her actions halt as she realises she’s in an unfamiliar room, leaping to her feet as she recalls her meeting with the boss of Onychinus. The very man who might be responsible for the deaths of…

For the deaths of…

Perhaps one day, she’ll be able to think or say it outright.

A knock on the door snaps her out of it. She doesn’t respond, mentally preparing for whoever steps through the door when she hears the doorknob turn. In steps…

You.

You’re carrying a tray of food, smiling when you notice she’s awake. Not caring as her jaw drops open, or that she’s in the corner of the room with her hands rolled into fists ready to strike whoever walks through.

Not you, though. Never you.

“It wasn’t a dream,” she lets out, causing you to smile. She remains frozen, unsure of what to do. Taking one hand off the tray, you guide her back to your bed. Too caught up in the warmth of your hand on her, she follows you without question. Mara already shows signs of improvement on her face from the sleep she had, to your relief.

When you try to remove your hand, so you can put the tray down gently on the nightstand, she pulls you right back on top of her. The food goes flying and lands with a loud shatter on the floor but you’re too distracted as you end up straddling her to care. Her hands come up to rest on your hips, like it’s natural, like it’s meant to be.

Mara wastes no time in exploring your body, hands moving across every inch like an explorer in an unknown part of a map. Her hands caress your chest, feeling the blood pumping through your veins, fingers trailing over the goosebumps on your arms, one hand rests over your heart just so she can feel it beat.

She’s real. She’s real. She’s real, repeats in her head over and over again. She doesn’t realise she’s crying when a hand cradles her face and wipes the tears away. She lurches forward, grabbing you into a hug, arms wrapped tightly around you and her head buried into the centre of your chest. You simple thread your fingers through her hair as she wails into your chest, pressing kisses to the crown of her head.

No words need to be spoken for you to know this is all she needs in the moment. Neither of you really know how much time passes nor do you really care. Mara’s cries seem to slowly die down, she settles for breathing in your artificial scent from lotions and perfume.

Her mind seems to reel, no matter how much proof she gathers that this is real, she has a hard time believing the evidence. Slowly her head lifts up, heart clenching in awe as you gaze at her softly. It’s when she finally notices the scar across your neck, eyebrows raising in question. Her hand immediately reaches to trace, dangerously gentle.

“What happened?” she nearly shouts in concern.

You open and close your mouth a few times, unsure on how to proceed. “C-can’t…” you trail off. The tears make a comeback in Mara’s eyes, as she comes to her own conclusion. “Can’t speak?” she finishes for you. You nod.

“I know how to sign,” she confirms. “They taught us in the Academy,” her eyes widen at the sentence. “I’m a hunter now, [Name],” she rests her chin where her head had been, gazing up at you. “Aren’t you proud of me?”

The sadness in the air is replaced by two soft laughs as you nod.

[“You have no idea how much.”]

For a little bit, she stares at you. As if contemplating doing something that she believes might ruin the moment. “I want to do something, angel. Please don’t hate me,” she pleads. You tilt your head in confusion.

[“Never.”]

It’s all the desperate woman in front of you needs. Years of believing you were dead, of finding sanctuary in those carrying pieces of you finally boil over. Her lips are on yours before you can even move, kissing you like the starved fool she is.

Maybe you’re no better as you immediately return the kiss, delighting in the way she hums into your mouth with joy. Her hands slip under your carefully selected night-gown, moving up your thighs and taking the silk material with them. All she has to do is slip a strap off your shoulder to gain access to the skin underneath.

She swallows your moan as a cold finger gently brushes the tip of your nipple, unsure if she can proceed. Taking your whines as confirmation, her hand cups your breast, feeling whatever she can in her hand. You can feel yourself get lightheaded as neither of you have yet to take break from kissing. Your entire body heats at her touch, grinding your lower half into her thigh, chasing friction as you lose yourself in each other.

Yet the rational part of her mind wins as she realises all the unspoken questions between you two. There’s still so much she doesn’t know. Like why you’re in the N109 zone in the first place. She pulls away from you as realisation sinks in, the moment is ruined leaving you staring at confused.

“Was it Sylus who did this?” she asks, pointing at your neck. Blinking as you mentally go over her words, you shake your head.

“What are you even doing with him? He’s dangerous,” she hisses, not wanting to admit to herself that she’s jealous.

“He might’ve even been behind Caleb’s death!”

[“Sylus would never do that,”] you defend.

Mara’s eyes dim at your response, pushing you off her and creating distance.

“You mean the same man that just kept me locked up for three days, forcing me to try and resonate with him?” she snaps.

You look away ashamed, you had gotten used to the changed man Sylus had become for you, that your forgot what he can truly be like. How can you even begin to explain it all to her?

That one day, she’ll come to love him. Just like you do.

“Why aren’t you shocked he’s dead?”

Your eyes widen at her question as you meet her gaze. It’s the first she’s ever looked at you in anger and in betrayal.

“How long have you known?” she whispers.

[“Since it happened.”]

Mara says nothing and it leaves you panicked.

“I was so caught up in you being still alive, I didn’t even see the signs,” she chuckles darkly, bringing a hand up to push through her hair. “I need to talk to Sylus,” she finishes, leaving the room.

Leaving you behind.

Mara steps out into the hallway.

For the first time in her life, she doesn’t want to see you.

Because the heartbroken look on your face is still imprinted in her mind, no matter how hard she tries to remind her heart that you deserve it. Because she’s never made you cry before and all she wants is to go back into that room and finish what she had tried to start.

She takes out her Hunter watch, not shocked as it displays no signal. She comes across a black bird, perched on a pillar. She looks over the bird, deciding it closely resembles a crow despite it being so metallic. Mara thanks her hunter skills as the bird she thought was a statue suddenly zooms past her, into another corridor. She doesn’t know why she follows it.

Soon she comes across a room, her resolve to talk to the man in charge out the window as she hears him talk to a man in that cold manner of his. Every hair on her body stands on edge, a desire to run wins. But a quick flash of your face stops her and it’s enough time for Sylus to force her out.

Mara finds herself in some sort of dining room. Sylus walks over and pours her a glass of wine, like she hadn’t put a bullet through him not so long ago.

“This will be useful for defending yourself in the N109 zone,” he places a gun in front of her with a cold chuckle. As always his indifference to her, leaves her angry.

“Are you mocking me?”

“I’m giving you a way out.” He takes a seat in front of her. “Since you can’t escape, why don’t we make a deal?”

“I’m not interested.” She drinks the wine, the strong liquid an escape she desperately needs.

“As long as you have desires, there will always be deals to make.”

Sylus’s right eyes glows that familiar red, the same that gave her all those hallucinations. He flips a coin in his hand. “So many days have come and gone. You should know your own desires by now.”

“You mean [Name]?” her eyes narrow, standing up and gripping the edges of the table as a clutch. “Is that why she’s here? You’re going to use her as a bargaining chip?” And here she was defending you, she thinks bitterly. What do you see in this guy, angel?

“You know what, fine. I’ll accept this deal. I resonate with you and not only do you give me the Aether core from your auction, you let me leave with her-”

“No.”

Mara glares at him. “What do you mean, no?” she snarls. “Is the core that precious to you?”

“No, she is.”

His declaration is like a splash of cold water on her face, the buzz from the wine is all but faded.

“[Name]’s free to go as she wishes anyway,” he tilts his head with a mischievous look in his eyes, bordering on malicious. “But she’s still mine.”

But he’s still not done. “Besides with the way you just ripped her heart out, how confident are you that she’ll even leave with you now?” he smirks.

“H-how did-”

“This is my house,” he responds wryly. “Of course I know what goes on in it.”

Mara finds herself lost in how to respond. She moves forward to clutch his hand in hers.

“Release me. You can’t do that just yet.”

He knows the woman before him is moving in desperation. You do seem to have that effect on all of them.

Mara looks up at him, wondering why he’s struggling in his head. Wondering why his power seems so familiar. For a while she grips onto his hand, trying her best to will her evol to work. Embarrassment at her own actions creep up, Sylus’s lips quirk at her cuteness though she’ll never know it.

“After all that arrogance, it seems like you can’t even control your own evol,” he teases.

“At the very least, it doesn’t want to be activated in front of you!” she bites back. Again [Name], what do you see in this arrogant jerk!

He shakes his head. “Just as I thought. You’re too weak.”

“You’ve seen the scars on her body,” he whispers. “How can you protect her from the powerful enemies she’s made?”

Mara stares at him.

“Face it. She’s protected as long as she’s by my side.”

“What happened to her? What enemies are you talking about?” she questions.

“It’s not my story to tell,” he waves her off causing a scoff out of her.

He pinches the area between his brow. “Eat as much as you want,” he commands.

She turns to look at the long table. It’s filled with exquisite dishes, each one familiar. Sylus clears his throat to get her attention. “[Name] cooked all your favourites. She was concerned at how frail you felt, the least you can do is eat the food. After you’re done, come find me outside the base’s entrance.”

He walks over to the door, turning back to say one final thing.

“You better hope our deal is successful. Otherwise, consider this your last meal.”

The snow-haired man approaches the crouched figure taking refuge in his bedroom.

“First time in the doghouse, little bird?” Sylus teases as he crouches in front of you, eyes softening when your lift your head up – swollen eyes meeting his.

[“She hates me,”] you sniffle. He moves to sit down next to you.

“She doesn’t hate you,” he comforts. “She’s just angry. Rightfully so.”

His larger hand comes to hold yours, tugging you into his side. “Even if you had wanted to go back, I wouldn’t have let you. Not at that time, so we can share the blame.”

[“Don’t be hard on her, this is all to much for her.”]

He chuckles. “I’ll do what I want,” he playfully coos, wiping away tears on your face. “Now stop crying, we have somewhere to be.”

AN: You know it's serious when Sylus has to play the therapist. Sorry for the short chapter! It's also more of a filler, I feel.