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When you arrive at the N109 Zone, it’s almost noon. Therefore you aren’t surprised that Sylus is still in his room, is still asleep, and is not quite ready to compromise that sleep for anyone or anything.
You know that technically doesn’t include you, but you don’t want to ruin his rest, so you leave him be for now. Instead, you decide to check out some more rooms in his grand headquarters.
Your visits to the N109 zone have been much more frequent, despite this past week apart. But before this last week, you had come and gone with a frequency that Sylus had finally seemed pleased with.
In that time, you had familiarized yourself with many of the rooms of this mansion already. That being said, you could almost swear that Sylus brought in something new every single day, so there’s always something new to discover on your visits.
And now you find yourself faltering before a suit of armor you hadn’t noticed before. It must have been pure white at one time, but now has gone dark from wear, age, and transportation. The armor wasn’t made for someone of Sylus’s size, and you wonder what about it made him want to add it to his collection. You try to resonate with it to get something off of it, but nothing really happens.
Soon, however, you grow tired of the silent house and the suit of armor. You figure that a small nap never hurt anyone. Besides, it feels like you haven’t seen Sylus in ages, even though it’s only been a week. A long, tedious week of Wanderers and stuck-up clients who you sometimes thought about leaving to fend off the Wanderers for themselves.
Slipping into his bedroom, his bedside lamp is on. The dim light casts strange shadows around the room, but softly illuminates the man on the bed.
Tiptoeing around, you crawl onto the mattress and begin to make yourself comfy, trying to do it slowly so you don’t disturb he who breathes deeply beside you. Once settled, you roll over to face him.
His normally strong features look so soft in this lighting, and his brow is furrowed slightly in his sleep, his expression one of a man concerned. Your heart aches a little as you realize just how much you’ve missed him this week despite trying to convince yourself you were better off without his incessant teasing. Reaching out, you mean to brush your fingertips over his cheekbones, but you suddenly hesitate before touching him. He sleeps so lightly sometimes and you don’t want to be the reason he can’t fall back to sleep.
But it’s already too late.
That frown of concern shifts into confusion as his eyes open—the color as bright and striking as ever—then relief when he sees you, sleepily taking your hand in his own and intertwining your fingers. Rolling onto his side, he smiles faintly at the sight of you tucked in beside him.
“I’m not dreaming, am I, sweetie?” he murmurs, his already deep voice even deeper with sleep, “It’s been 8 days and a few hours since I saw you last.”
“You keep count?” you tease as he brings your wrist to his lips.
“Maybe I do,” he says with a huff and a shrug, his still-heavy eyelids closing again. You know he isn’t asleep, however, by the sound of his annoyed grunt when you try to slip your hand out of his grasp, “Leaving already?”
“No, I just want to get more comfortable.”
His eyes still closed, he allows you to take your hand back. You start to settle in beside him, but thinking about how lovely and worried he’d looked when you first came in, you suddenly have an idea to hopefully help soothe whatever dreams he’d been having.
His brow furrows again when you take his face in-between your hands, but a smug little smile is quick to replace it as you place feather-light little kisses against every inch of his face.
He sinks deeper into the mattress as you do, his entire body relaxing as you surge with gratitude for the fact that he shares this vulnerable side with you and only you. By the time you finish, his smug smile has faded softly as he dozes off and on again.
“Hmm? Is that all?” he hums. Rolling your eyes, you chuckle, sliding back into the blankets, grabbing his arm and drawing it around you as well. Nuzzling his nose against the back of your neck, he murmurs with a voice as smooth as velvet, “Thank you, sweetie. It’s been a hell of a week and I needed that.”
“Don’t be silly,” you murmur, “Now go back to sleep, Sylus.”