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~ ~ Of course he’s going to tease, even if his cheeks are also flushed with a silly sense of satisfaction ~ ~
You arrived at his place looking disheveled and flustered, a look he typically enjoyed on you, though obviously concerning in tonight’s situation. You had somehow managed to shake off Mephisto’s watch and ventured somewhere on your own. Knowing you, he doesn’t like to imagine where you might have gone. And your flustered expression as you walked through his doorway and tossed your duffel bag to the floor left him concerned and in want of an explanation.
An explanation you were stubbornly unwilling to give him.
Instead, you insisted you needed a shower. Like most things, he found it hard to deny you that right. You could tell he was bothered, however, by the way he waved you away without looking at you.
Still, you had the gall to keep him waiting.
Certain that you were testing his patience on purpose, he takes matters into his own hands. He’s holding your duffel bag in his lap with a bored expression when you return.
“Excuse me? What are you doing with my things?”
“You continue to poke around the N109 zone without a care in the world despite witnessing the dangers firsthand. You could at least allow me the reassurance of Mephisto’s watch. Yet you refuse and act coy about it when I ask nicely. You’ve given me no choice but to take matters into my own hands.”
With a bored expression, he reaches into your bag.
You call his bluff.
“Fine. Search all you like, you won’t find anything in there.”
His searching hand pauses for a moment as he gives you a dangerous look. Then, with an exasperated sigh, he removes his hand from the bag and tosses it back to the floor.
Feeling guilty, you suddenly have the urge to tell him a bit of the truth. However, his sudden change in posture as he lowers himself back toward the bag surprises you.
Heat fills your face immediately when you catch sight of what has caught his attention. Of what he so delicately lifts between his fingers and hangs in the air between the two of you.
“My my… what is this, kitten?” he asks, his voice a low rumble and a chuckle.
You dive toward him, but your bathrobe prevents you from performing any other rapid or complex movements. Besides, it’s not easy to take anything from Sylus’s hands in the first place.
“It’s nothing.”
“It definitely looks like something,” he persists, “Tell me, is that supposed to be Mephisto in the right-hand corner? He’ll be delighted to see his likeness.”
“Sylus, hand it over. I’m not kidding.”
He allows you to snatch the notebook away from him and you clutch it close to your chest, obstinately stepping away from him and turning your back on him as you leave the room.
You return to the room a moment later to find him sitting where you left him, a smug smile on his face when you enter. You intend to scold him, but are surprised when you see the flush in his own cheeks that he quickly hides by clearing his throat into his hand.
