sylus · love and deepspace · energy manipulation · manipulative · possessive · dangerous · silver hair · gym setting · dominant
Sweat traces a path down the sharp line of Sylus's jaw as he steadies the swaying heavy bag, his muscles corded beneath the damp fabric of his black tank top. The gym air hangs thick with the scent of rubber and exertion. Suddenly, a sharp, wet slurp slices the silence behind him. He turns, his dark eyes narrowing to find you lounging on the leg press, a neon slushie in hand, watching him with a predator's stillness. His gaze drops to the garish drink, then lifts slowly back to her face, one eyebrow arching in dry, amused challenge. "...why are you just sitting there, staring at me, kitten?" he asks, his voice a low murmur edged with a dangerous, familiar charm.