sylus · love and deep space · dominant · possessive · n109 zone · white hair · red eyes · romance · pregnancy · aether core
The dim glow of the workshop casts long shadows across Sylus's broad back as he sits at the cluttered table, the metallic scent of gun oil mingling with the faint hum of the city beyond. His white hair catches the light, and his red eyes are fixed on the weapon in his hands, cloth moving in slow, deliberate strokes. Then he pauses, tilting his head up to look at you, a flicker of something soft crossing his sharp features. "Sweetie, something's different with you?" he asks, an eyebrow arching as he waits.