“Do you understand?” “Yes.” Your fingers twitched as you blinked slowly, resisting the urge to reach up and rub the tension from between your brows. There was truly nothing so despicable, as draining, about running on low-sleep and a developing headache. “Redirect the transport line at the third check-point, keep eyes peeled for Firelight, and don’t die. Anything else?”
The lighter flicked, but the man at the desk did not lift it to cast flame. Allowing it to go out, Silco reached up and plucked the fresh new cigar from his teeth with a look of indifference, but you could see the way his brow twitched when his smoke was delayed. His eye flicked back to you, the one still fully intact becoming hooded as he glanced you over.
“How old are you again?”
This time you actually closed your eyes, but mentally shook yourself before you could linger in the peaceful darkness. Or it would be, if not for the throbbing behind your eyes, that made numbers too painful to think about, so you only muttered out, “Old enough, sir.”
“Old enough? I trust that translates to you no longer requiring a bedtime to function like an adult.” His tone, normally rich in underlining meaning, is flat enough for you to detect the unimpressed nature he has in observing you try to cover your third yawn of this debriefing. “Pull yourself together. Wake up, and try not to nap on the way over to the deposit-point. This is a mission I am trusting you with, not something you can simply to doze through. Are we clear?”
The sneer on his words makes the headache grow, and you manage a nod. You’re not surprised he’s shorter with you than normal - you’ve almost gotten used to how hot and cold Silco could be with you.
Oftentimes being that very intense, ominous Eye of Zaun that most would expect the king of Zaun to be. Cool, drawing tones with a gaze that merely glanced over you. Either in indifference or, as you’ve been seeing more and more of, in a calculating way that informed you he was debating his uses of you. Considering the fact that it’s Silco, you would normally imagine those uses to be temporary, and eventually result in being cast aside like any other tool at his disposal.
It’s those times when he’s nearly the exact opposite of his colder front, that only further bewilders you as what his motives could be.
Sudden, but not spiteful orders for you to take a day off. Coffee, steaming and at ready upon your arrival to full-team briefings, that Sevika never reveals who sent it. More than a couple of private chats in his office, going over the finer details of a recent mission or job at his command. The first time he had asked ’are you feeling alright,’ it had indeed seemed like he was speaking in the voice of Silco, king of Zaun who would crush anyone in order to tear Piltover down.
When he asked the question now, despite his short-tone with you, there in a hint of something almost genuine in his voice. You should be left reeling, from the idea that this puppet-master of the Undercity’s crime would show even an ounce of care for you, but your headache was already doing a good enough job of leaving you spiraling.
So you were only able to nod, managing something that could technically be counted as a smile.
“Yes, Silco. Just… one of those days, sir. It won’t interfere with your shipment sir, I’ll get it done.”
Your assurance made that brow narrow lower, and finally, a spark hit the end of the fresh-cut cigar. The smell of smoke neither hindered nor helped stop that pounding behind your eyes, but it did ground your senses as Silco glanced down at the papers on his desk. Still holding a slight, pinched look of frustration as he turned slightly, blowing out the lungful but keeping his eye fixed at his desk.
“… I can’t delay this, you understand. I have Sevika dealing with the western boroughs this week, with Jinx shadowing her.” Ah - that explained his tension. You wondered how many missives, filled with thinly-veiled, or colorfully-explicit complaints about the other have already returned to his desk. “With both of them gone, you’re one of the few I can have… faith in, to do this job.”
He said faith like he means trust. Which was obviously a ridiculous notion, but you felt something other than the ache in your skull when he said it; warmth.
“And I will do it right sir,” You vowed, and his mixed-gaze flicked up to you, smoke coiling off his lips. After a beat, Silco nodded, bringing his smoke back to his lips as he leaned back, and turned his chair, facing the window. “Take tomorrow off when it’s done. Day after that too, if need be. I have more use for someone awake than halfway to sleep.”
“Oh… sir, that really isn’t necessary-”
“That wasn’t a request.” Silco wasn’t cold persay at the order, but you suppressed a sigh at his unforgiving tone. It couldn’t be refused. “Right… well, thank you, sir.” You said, a bit reluctantly but honestly a bit grateful. It must’ve showed, for it took a moment for smoke to reappear in the air in front of the green-glass and iron window.
His dismissal came shortly after, almost quietly, and you smiled as you turned and started moving towards the door. “Right. Thanks sir, have a good night, love you-”
The relaxed exhale of spiced-smoke was cut short by a small sputter, progressing rather quickly into a cough.
Damage-control came as soon as you realized the pattern of vowels your mouth was making, suddenly wide-awake. You tried to make it come out quietly, the moment the second syllable left your lips. Unfortunately, the rest of the sentence continued on it’s path and by the time you hit ’-u,’ you could see that swivel-chair already beginning it’s sharp turn back to face the rest of the office. More importantly, to face you.
Sleep was apparently no longer needed, as your hand all but snapped the doorknob off in the haste to open, and the door snapped shut behind you before Silco could manage to bark out the order for you to wait.
You heard the call through the door though, and managed not to stumble down the stairs as you took steps two, three at a time.
With your shoes hitting the bottom, you stilled for a minute, than couldn’t help it; the laugh that slipped out of you.
Perhaps it was the lack of sleep that made it so humorous, but there was no storming feet. No demands that you return to the office immediately, and you strode out The Last Drop with the only consequence of telling your employer ‘love you,’ was your own burning face.
A slip of the tongue, nothing more. Something that was more than slightly humiliating, but you could be professional about this, and among deadly, cunning and spitefully witful, one of Silco’s other dominating traits was also having a clear sense of professionalism.
With that in mind, you were surprisingly thankful for the embarrassment. You knew without a doubt that you were entirely awake now, and this showed in your actions. The transport safely redirected, not even an ounce of activity on the trail. You felt that headache subside long enough for you to ensure that yes, all vials were accounted for and distributed to the second-hand marketer without a single issue. Payment exchanged, a goodnight *strictly* kept to a single sentence, and you were done.
It was a good night. That didn’t mean you had to go off to celebrate it as normal people would, and celebrated your own way, by returning to your dwellings, grabbing the nearest pillow and already out by the time your head hit the bed. And you were blissfully asleep for the entirety of the night, and halfway to forgetting the incident, just as you imagined Silco would be.
That’s what you believed last night.
Now, however, mouth slightly agap and hair still shrewn from your night of rest, you weren’t really quite sure what to believe when you opened the front-door.
The sight of Silco, an extra coffee in his hand, on your front porch. Clearing waiting, and though nonchalant, you saw a slight bite of his gloved nails digging into fine-leather as his fist clutched around his cup.
As you managed to remember to speak, and slowly offer the invitation for your boss to come in, you wondered how sleep-deprived you had actually been last night, to ever believe that Silco would just forget.