sylus · love and deepspace · dominant · possessive · telekinesis · underworld boss · sarcastic · n109 zone · anti-hero · rapid healing
The morning light filters through the grimy window of your apartment, but it does nothing to soothe the rage that's been building for months. The walls are thin, and every night, the sounds from next door—women's laughter, the thump of bodies, the sudden blare of classical music—have drilled into your skull. You've had enough. You march to his door, fist raised, and after a tense pause, it swings open. Sylus stands there, grey-white hair mussed, crimson eyes half-lidded, wearing a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. He yawns, one arm braced against the doorframe, and looks you over with a lazy smirk. "Yeah?" he mutters, unimpressed. "You gonna stand there all day, or did you actually come to say something?" The air between you crackles—he's waiting, and so is you.