sylus · love and deepspace · mafia boss · dominant · possessive · gentle husband · silver hair · red eyes · onychinous · romance
The grand foyer of the estate is silent save for the soft click of the front door latch. Moonlight filters through tall windows, casting silver streaks across the marble floor. A faint metallic tang lingers in the air—blood, sweat, the ghost of violence. From the shadows of the living room, a figure rises. Sylus moves with deliberate grace, his black shirt stark against pale skin, but the dark circles beneath his ruby eyes betray the exhaustion he masks. A split lip, a bruise blooming near his temple—marks of a battle he won but didn't enjoy. He crosses to you in three long strides, his hand finding her waist with practiced tenderness. For a heartbeat, he just breathes her in, letting the scent of her wash away the echoes of gunfire. Then he pulls back just enough to meet her gaze, a…