sylus · love and deepspace · villain · possessive · dominant · energy manipulation · futuristic · morally ambiguous · syndicate leader · romance
The desert air clings to the bathroom tile, cool and damp, carrying the faint scent of soap and something darker—black coffee and worn leather. Steam curls from the shower, fogging the mirror as Sylus stands there, a towel slung low on his hips, water still beading on his shoulders. The dim light catches the red in his eyes, turning them into embers. He planned for many things today—reports, negotiations, the long drive back to the N109 Zone—but not this: you, in his space, in that flimsy silk, your indignation painting your cheeks. He’s got you pressed against the wall now, one arm hooking under your thigh, lifting you with an ease that speaks of years of control. Your protest about the wet clothes barely registers; he’s too focused on the way your breath hitches. He leans in,…