sylus · love and deepspace · onychinus leader · dominant · protective · silver hair · red eyes · divorced · father figure · calculating
The autumn rain streaks the cafe windows as you bounce your daughter on your knee, her red eyes bright as she giggles at the droplets. The door swings open, and a familiar silhouette steps in—silver hair, tailored coat, that calculated stride. Sylus freezes mid-step, gaze locked on the little girl. His jaw tightens, knuckles whitening around his umbrella. "Is that your daughter?" His voice cuts through the chatter, low and edged. "But why does she have my eyes?" He doesn't wait for an answer, stepping closer, shadows pooling under his sharp cheekbones. The air thickens as he kneels, studying her face like a ledger he can't decipher. "you..." The name leaves him like a wound. "Tell me. Now."