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Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid mission, stupid organisation, stupid target, stupid you.
The hunters association had given you a hit on a person that had to be dealt with. They were messing up protocores, harming hunters and civilians and making Wanderers appear and wreak havoc in Linkon. So, they sent you to deal with him. Problem was they didn’t have lots of information on him, so you had to scrape around to find more about him, and once you had him in the palm of your hands, he decided to be a bitch.
You stared down at the corpses disdainfully. Now your hunter's uniform was torn and bloody. You walked around the corpses, blood splashing against your boots, staining the floor even more.
Turns out he was a part of the N109 Zone, which made things worse. The idea was to take him into custody since he did have an evol, so only we hunters could deal with him reliably. Take him into custody meant taking him to HQ alive.
You made it to the end of the room, where his body laid. Black hair ruffled and stuck on his forehead, a frown and pinched brows, eyes glossy and empty. Blood stopped flowing from his wounds at this point. Bullet wound on his shoulder, thigh and ankle, bullet grazing on his cheek, knife wounds on his chest and arms.
You leaned down, yanking your precious knife out of the centre of his chest. You swatted it in the air, flicking all the still liquid blood off of it. It was still red. You stared down at his lifeless body, gaze indifferent. Turning around, you walked off, pressing a button on your hunters watch to send a message.
“Mission complete, details when I get to safety.”
The man was actually the head of an organisation within N109, one that dealt with weapons and arms dealing to anyone who would ever want one. Anyone. Because of them, people within Linkon had gotten their hands on slightly old equipment that still worked due to mods made by their dealer, and nobody could really deal with them. All we could do is confiscate their weapons and trial them, but the damage was still done.
Their messing with protocores and Wanderer luring was just to make it harder to confiscate all the weapons that were circulating around. And goddamn were they successful.
You got out of the warehouse, which was more like a mansion. Actually, it may have been the man's house. You didn’t know nor cared much. The moonlight was bright, light pollution not really hitting this part of the district. You stared up, letting go of a heavy breath that stayed ever since you infiltrated the house.
And then your knees buckled.
Stupid mission, stupid organisation, stupid target, stupid man, stupid association, stupid work.
You bled out on the rocky path, staining the grass and floor. You stared at it spitefully. Your legs shook, your arms had no strength, your shoulders slumped. You hissed a breath as you tried moving, your body aching.
Stupid adrenaline.
You had barely paid any attention to your wounds while you fought, there had been no time. You could feel your back burn. Oh yeah, there had been a fire at some point. You knew your legs had no wounds, or at least not in the muscles you were currently using, you were kind of hunched over on the path, forearms keeping you up the barest bit.
You pressed your forehead to the ground so your arms could rest. They took the brunt of most of the hits. Your chest was the only part you could really see, moonlight somehow making it under your figure. You had a gash on your abdomen, not very big but still hurt like a bitch. Several bullets had nipped your sides, ripping the clothes there. They really should make more resistant clothes for hunters if their livelihood depends on fighting.
So here you were, hunched in front of a silent house, bleeding out in the N109 zone. Great. At least you still had the brooch Sylus gave you so nobody would dare do anything to you. If they knew what the brooch was.
You attempted to get up, but your legs had decided they would much rather not, and now you laid on your side on the ground, blood trailing down your body. You felt sticky and wet, apart from in pain.
Stupid body.
And so you tried again, biting your lip harshly to keep the pain buried within you, and you made it up, albeit hunched over and wobbly. It was good enough. You took a step forward, seeing that you could walk, even if it was at a snail's pace.
And so you walked. And walked. And walked. And you seethed mentally, cursing the world and yourself and the mission and everything you could blame.
You may have been walking for an hour, maybe an extra half hour, or even two. You didn’t care, all you knew is that you weren’t dying anytime soon, and you chuckled breathlessly, telling the world it had to try harder to take you out of this world.
Now you were face to face with a door, a very grand one, one that could only fit the man with the large ego. It was tailor made, you knew he would hate having anything that didn’t show how much absolutely absurd amount of money he had.
You also didn’t know when you started clutching your abdomen, nor paid attention to how close the ground was now. And you didn’t care, so you took out your tools and lock picked the door in front of you.
Stupid shaky hands.
It took you way too long to open the doors and you could barely care about how much noise you could’ve made while doing that. All you were doing was looking for refuge and nobody would kick you out while you were bleeding, probably much closer to death than what you thought. You still had bullets in your gun.
You pushed the door open the slightest bit for you to make it in, closing it behind you and going into the bright hallway, lights off but the moonlight was as strong as ever. You took the keys from the drawer on the side, a couple of hanger things on top of it where the keys should have been.
You locked the door and went further into the house, steps much slower now, eyelids much heavier from before trying to get you to stop.
And your knees buckled once more, and this time you were basically falling face first into the ground, so you closed your eyes instinctually and waited for the fall to come to finally fall asleep and let your body rest. In the middle of a hallway, in the N109 Zone, as a hunter, with relations to their strongest and scariest citizen.
And arms caught you. And you hissed as hands and arms pressed onto your back to grab you. And the arms lifted as soon as you let out such a noise.
“Darling?” A gruff voice called out, dark and soothing, and you leaned into his touch as you smelt his familiar scent.
“Hello to you.” You responded quietly and gravelly. You let out a sigh.
Sylus lifted you up slowly, making sure to not touch you in unnecessary places and you took the help ungracefully, pressing your entire weight on him, knowing he could deal with your weight while you couldn’t.
“Didn’t know it would be you, but it also doesn’t surprise me.” He stated quietly, red eyes roaming your body while you kept your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. One of his hands went up to your hair, petting it slowly, chuckling to himself.
“‘S not like I break into your houses whenever I’m around…” He shook his head at your mumbles, the hand that wasn’t in your hair trailing down your side, grazing over where a bullet had graced you. Your body flinched but you made no noise. His hand kept going as he bent down slightly, going to move his arm behind your knees and picking you up, moving his other arm under your neck.
Your eyes were hazy as you stared up at him for the first time, admiring him like you always did. He looked the same as always, not a hair in the wrong place, but he looked even more beautiful each time you looked at him.
His gaze went up to the ceiling, nudging his head to something on the ceiling.
“See that black spot?” You nodded, barely able to see it with your blurry eyesight. “That’s a surveillance camera. The system notified me the moment you unlocked the door without keys.”
Well, it now makes sense that whenever you’ve broken into his house he knew beforehand.
He walked you further into the house, taking you into a room with the same grandiose decoration as the rest of it. Always showing off.
You shivered. Your back was completely exposed and it luckily stopped bleeding profusely before you stepped in, just small droplets of your blood falling onto the hardwood floor. Not like these floors have seen anything better.
Despite the horrific pain that circled through your body, you refused to show it, or make any noise. It was just your own ego stopping you from doing that. You wondered how you two could even interact with each other considering how both of your egos were… exuberant at best.
“Still acting tough, huh?” Sylus chuckled to himself, dropping you on a bed. You threw yourself on your side with less wounds so that you could rest. You stared at him as he walked away and grabbed a suitcase, opening it so only he could see.
“Those Wanderers really did a number on you.” He mirthed, taking out what looked to you like random vials and bottles and bandages.
“Not Wanderers…” You whispered, staring up at him. He was sideways for you and it made you chuckle deliriously. He looked funny.
“Oh?” He hummed, kneeling down in front of the bed, coaxing you up to sit. His eyes roamed your body once more, this time more thoughtfully now that you were both inside a lit up room. His gaze was calculating and cold, thinking, and you shamelessly looked at him, loving the way he looked like he had a giant problem to solve in front of him. Maybe you were a problem. Your lips quirked up.
His hands went to the middle of your chest, deftly unbuttoning your shirt without asking you. Your brows furrowed as your hand went to grip his wrist. He stopped despite your grip being utterly useless, weak.
“This shirt, if you can even call it that, is in the way, sweetie. I’m taking it off.” He stated matter-of-factly, not taking any arguments. You looked down, knowing what you would see. He still didn’t move his hand. Your fingers left his wrist slowly, and he started unbuttoning the ones left.
“On that subject,” He started, being careful when taking the shirt off, especially when it came to your back. You still hissed whenever the fabric made contact with your open wounds. “Where’s that corset armour thing you always wear?”
And you had no answer to it. Well you did, but admitting it was embarrassing.
“Fighting destroyed it.” You said vaguely. You may or may not have decided to cut it off because you got stuck in a door while you were in a shootout with the organisation.
“Sure.” He hummed, smirk taking over his lips. He always knew when you told him lies, but you didn’t care much.
“Always doubting me.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. He had taken the remains of the shirt off and now you sat on the bed without a shirt, chest exposed, even if you had a bra on. Luckily enough, he only saw you as someone to take care of you right now. You hoped.
His smirk widened, large hands going to grip your arms, pushing them away from your chest, leaving you exposed. His eyes trailed down before going back to stare at you, his hands gripping your wrists and trapping them in the air next to your head.
“And you’re always lying.” He bit back, placing your arms back down so they didn’t hit your wounds. You looked away, hearing him grab some bottle that clinked against others.
“You deserve it.” He grabbed your right arm, lifting it up and pressing something cold onto one of the knife wounds. You yelped and snapped your head towards him, glaring at his playful smirk. You hated it so much. His brows lifted, as if questioning your statement. All you did was stare back at him, deadpanning.
He chuckled and shook his head, placing a bandage on the wound and trailing upwards towards the next. Sneaky bastard didn’t hesitate to take his damn time, making sure his touch was light and warm, teasing. You just kept staring at him, with the same look. He was so pretty.
“After everything I’ve done for you?” He questioned, his expression turning into something else, something you knew very well, something that would bring hell to you. You tried to speak before he could, trying to change the conversation before he could continue and torment you while you sat almost at death's door.
“After letting myself kneel before you? Letting you try to ‘tame’ me? Pleading for you to-” “I get it! I get it.” You squeaked out, face flushing, the pink on your cheeks fading into the crimson colour of the blood that coated your skin.
Stupid man that you loved.
He chuckled lowly, turning you around so your back faced him. You were glad you didn’t have to see that stupid devilish smirk, the one that haunted you wherever you went. However it also meant he was going to take care of your biggest wound. The wound that constantly gnawed at your nerves, constantly hurting and pricking at you.
Sylus stayed silent, staring at your back, contemplating. You hated when he didn’t speak, when he wasn’t being a tease, because it meant something extremely serious was happening, and frankly you didn’t want to face the fact your back may possibly have irreversible damage.
Your hunters watch dinged, playing a message. You thanked the gods watching over you for this distraction to come.
“Received your report, hunter. Waiting for the details.” It was a melodious voice, crackling and broken from the fact that the connection between Linkon and N109 was terrible at best. It made her cringe from how loud it was in the silent room.
You shook the surprise off and brought your watch to your mouth, ignoring the questioning glance Sylus sent you from behind.
“Mission completed. Target KIA, unknown cause of death, unable to determine from there, suspected to be a gunshot wound from the shootout. Target was part of an organisation within the N109 Zone. No contact with Sylus, leader of Onychinus. Further analysis given when debrief takes place.” You ended, your voice low, dull. Sylus had huffed a laugh at the fact you weren’t in contact with him. All you did was send him a dry glare.
“So, darling,” his voice held a tilt, motioning to your back and then to your entire body, “what is all this about?” He knew you didn’t have a way out of this conversation and you despised that. You sighed, turning back to staring at the headboard of the bed to avoid looking at him. You hated getting so hurt from a simple mission.
“Ah, ah.” He clicked his tongue, leaning down, one hand supporting himself on the bed behind you, the other hand going to tilt your chin to look at him forcibly. You held your breath in case he accidentally touched your back. “You’re not avoiding this. I need to know what caused these wounds so I can help you.”
“I think you’re smart enough to know what caused them.” You spat out. You knew he didn’t deserve such an attitude from him, but you were frustrated. You knew he wouldn’t take it to heart. Hopefully. No, he was a son of a bitch, all he will do is throw this in your face later on, teasing and mocking you.
“I could be wrong.” His voice held an air of humour, light. “As if you’re ever wrong.” Your voice was empty, seething from within.
He just stayed quiet, staring at you with his crimson eyes, analysing you, memorising you. You hated this. He was being bitchy and staying silent because you couldn’t deal with silence, he was forcing you to speak while those beautiful dark eyes gazed at you, melting you from within. You stayed silent, trying to spite him, as if you were trying to tell him that he wouldn’t win this time around. So, in the meantime, to let yourself not speak, you analysed him back, seeing his gaze soft, a contrast to the constant furrow in his brows to make him look so intimidating. You were the only one who saw such an expression. You felt yourself fall harder, always noticing how soft and delicate he was with you, even if he teased you and mocked you until you would punch him. Even then, that would only make him go further. He was infuriating. You loved him.
“Mission.” You relented, without even noticing. He let your chin go the moment you started speaking, knowing you wouldn’t stop now.
“There was someone messing with Wanderers and protocores within Linkon which made some places dangerous and even hurt people. They were also the cause of the weapon epidemic, where for some reason so many people suddenly had weapons and started to terrorise the city. I was tasked with looking into him and taking him into custody since they didn’t have any other high profile hunters to take on the mission. They were all on patrol duty for the increased Wanderer activity and crime rate.”
Sylus just contemplated your words from behind you, noticing the way you fiddled with your watch to not lose yourself while telling the story.
“Why did they send just a hunter after someone from N109?” He questioned after a while. You heard his clothes ruffle, hands ghosting over your back, as if trying to assess the wound by feeling it. You felt a zap run through your body.
“Didn’t know he was from here. I only found out recently and didn’t want to alert HQ since they had to deal with all the problems in Linkon. You know I can deal with people from N109.” You went to take off your boots, hating the fact that they were messy and bloody and dirty and full of grime and were getting all of the filth on the quilt. This caused your back to arch and stretch, a jolt of pain running through your body, making you groan.
“It certainly doesn’t look like you could deal with this alone, darling.” You knew he didn’t say it with any sort of bad intentions but it poked at your ego, which in turn made you huff. You were about to retort when he beat you to it. “Why didn’t you ask for my help?”
His question was simple. You knew you could’ve called him at any time and he would’ve come running to you, destroying the place the moment he got there, rescuing you. No, helping you to defeat them. And yet, you didn’t do that, deciding to take an entire organisation by yourself when you could’ve just waited and reported to absolutely anyone to help you.
It pissed you off, frankly.
He knew you had no answer to his question. He knew you would change the subject. He knew you were just trying to show yourself capable to whoever you thought didn’t. He didn’t know who it was. Maybe it wasn’t anyone.
“Went to confront them and succeeded in knocking a bunch out but then they realised I was there and a shootout happened,” you gestured to the skin that had been nicked by the bullets, “then I had to fight close up to a bunch of them,” gesturing to the knife wounds on your arms, “and at some point, a fire started and I was thrown about a bunch. I slid on the ground and got slammed against a burning wall.” You finished by fixing your posture, showing your entire back to him.
He was silent again. You fiddled with your hands, starting to take off the harnesses that held your weaponry.
“And even despite that you didn’t call for anyone.” He sighed out quietly, judging you.
“Didn’t think it was bad.” Stupid adrenaline.
“You were outnumbered.” Stupid organisation.
“I only knew that I had to go after a man.” Stupid target.
“You were assigned to it alone.” Stupid mission.
“I could take it.” Stupid ego.
“You’re in my territory.” Stupid you.
“It started in mine.” Stupid man you loved.
He pinched his nose and let out a rough sigh, done with making you come to terms with the fact that all of this could’ve been avoided. You bit your lip, pain trailing through your body once more, making you hunch over, a quiet whimper leaving your throat. You hated being so weak, hated being in pain, hated everything about this.
“I’m not a doctor, I can’t take care of such a bad wound.” You loved being taken care of by him, you loved him, you loved everything he did, you loved how he was so soft with you, even if he thought you didn’t notice, you loved everything about this.
And so he did his best, tending to the giant wound on your back. It was hard, groans, hisses, curses and the like being thrown out of your mouth spitefully as he did so, the pain anything but bearable. You felt like passing out several times, each one followed by a quick kiss wherever Sylus could get his mouth on, his hands when bandaging you making sure to trail over your body in teasing touches, not shying away from your chest. You chastised him several times. It kept you awake. And soon, while it felt like an eternity, he was done, finishing bandaging up your arm.
“You with me, sweetie?” He asked, voice quiet. You could hear the way he shuffled around, getting up from his kneel and putting everything away and taking it back from where he first got it from.
“Yeah…” You slurred, your voice tired and hoarse, barely able to form the word. Then, when he made it back to your side, he moved you to lie on your stomach, moving your arms to rest around your head. His hands trailed down to your hips and shamelessly went to touch your ass. You groaned out of frustration and were about to tell him off when his hands lifted your hips and went to the buttons on your pants.
“What-” Your protest was cut short. “Do you want to sleep in a blood-soaked uniform?” You huffed not wanting to bicker with him much more.
His touch was light, taking off your pants smoothly as you already got rid of the harnesses from when you were nervously fiddling with them. You shivered from now being completely naked. Well, in your underwear but it was still too exposed. It was cold in the room and you hunched into yourself as much as you could without hurting yourself.
He went away for way too long. Your shivers got worse and you were about to call out to him when he, like all the times before, got back before you could.
He lifted your ankles, pressing a way too soft fabric up. You looked down and saw him concentrating in pulling up the sweatpants that were a bit, a lot, bigger than you. He lifted your hips, letting the hem of the pants hang on your waist, just under your bandages. He moved to the side of the bed, kneeling down once more and staring at you. A hand went to your face, finger brushing over your cheek.
“A doctor will come in the morning. I hope you don’t have any pressing issues because you’re staying here with me for a while.” He whispered, tilting his head so you stared at him at the correct angle. You moved your head to push against his hand, loving how warm he was.
All he did was stare at you after that. You noticed the way his gaze held an air of admiration and love for you, the way his hand rubbed soothing circles on your skin. It was lulling you to sleep. You loved those crimson eyes, they made you feel safe.
“Stay with me…” You mumbled, closing your eyes, hand reaching out to grab at him.
“Wasn't planning on doing anything else, my dear.”
You went to sleep to the shuffling of clothes and a sink next to you, a hand guiding your face to the other side of the bed, the same one going to your hair and slowly carding his fingers through the strands, to dried up blood being taken off of your hair. You smiled as you went to sleep.
While your breaths slowed and you stopped moving, all Sylus could do was stare at you, contemplate everything about you like he always did.
He didn’t care that you didn’t notice the way his posture untensed around you. He didn’t care that you didn’t notice the way he touched you so softly compared to what he was used to. He didn’t care that you didn’t notice just how careful he was to not hurt you. He didn't care that you didn't notice the fact he used his evol on you so you wouldn't pass out on him while he patched you up. He didn’t care, as long as he saw those beautiful eyes stare at him with unbridled love and affection. He didn’t care as long as he had you by your side.
Every move was deliberate, even if you didn’t notice. He was used to not perceiving his nuances, and yet you looked at him as if you knew everything he did, everything he wanted to keep away from you.
Maybe it was the way your aether cores resonated no matter what circumstances. Maybe it was the way your ego ebbed and flowed with his. Maybe you were just perceptive enough to see right through him.
He didn’t care. He stayed by your side, making sure you were alright and comfortable. He loved you and you loved him. All was right in this world, in the world that contained you.