Chapter Text
You’re not sure when it first began; when the thought first wormed its way into your head and settled in there, hatching eggs and scattering its progeny all over your mind.
Sylus isn’t sure either, but he picks it up quickly enough, the way he does whenever any sort of troubling emotion shows on your face.
“You’re thinking again, kitten.”
You hum absently, flipping a page in the book that you’re not actually reading. Your eyes are skimming the words, but none of their meanings are actually sinking in. Beneath your weight, your chair shifts into a slightly more comfortable position, its arms snaking around your waist while you feel its mouth rest against the curve of your shoulder.
A yelp leaves you when you feel a sharp nip in your flesh, startling up and jerking your neck around to glare at your “chair”.
Sylus grins back at you, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes now that he’s finally gotten your full attention. Of course, he doesn’t let you go when you try to leap off his lap, keeping you trapped in his warmth.
“You’ve been preoccupied lately. Is it because of work?”
“It’s not that,” you tell him, rubbing at the sore teeth marks on your shoulder. “Nothing bad, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
“I’m curious,” he corrects, raising one hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “You’re usually more present when you’re here.” Then he points to the book, a smirk curling his lips. “And this has been upside-down for the past twenty minutes.”
Shit, he’s right. Your fingers scramble to change its orientation, but keep your face straight and smooth.
“It’s actually a skill I’ve been meaning to pick up for a while.”
His brows arch skeptically. “Reading backwards too?”
The book shuts like a clam, and so does your stupid mouth. It simply proves the smug man’s point — that your head’s been elsewhere for quite a while now.
When you glance over at him, you see Sylus giving you an expectant stare, and you hold eye contact with him defiantly. But as these staring contests usually go, you lose your nerve first and look away as a long, defeated sigh blows past your lips.
“You’re going to laugh at me,” you say lamely.
He chuckles, warm breath ghosting against your temple. “You know me. I love a good joke.”
A fist lands squarely in his bicep. It hurts your knuckles more than it hurts him, probably. The man appears to have been built of steel. “You’re not allowed to laugh,” you snap, the stinging from your hand adding to your mild irritation. “Otherwise I’m not telling you a word.”
“I think I can manage that,” he replies confidently, even though his eyes are already full of mirth. “Go on, then.”
Restlessly, you fiddle with the bent corner of the cover page, refusing to maintain eye contact with him as you open up.
“It’s nothing serious. I’ve just been thinking… you know… how we would have met if I hadn’t made my way into the N109 Zone back then.”
“You mean the time you hunted me down for revenge?”
You can’t help the wince that leaves you when that awful memory of sticking a gun at his head and shooting him in the chest surfaces in your mind again. Sylus seems to sense this, and immediately stops his teasing, instead choosing to gently ask, “That was a long time ago. Why are you bringing that up now?”
“It’s just… funny, you know? Not ha-ha funny, but, I don’t know, weird when I think about it. Like how life could turn out so differently if I never chose to become a Hunter, if all that didn’t happen to my family, or if you didn’t get there in time before that guy shot me. Lots of things could have been different. And then,” you gesture generally to the lack of space between you, “maybe we wouldn’t be here.”
“We would have made it here one way or another,” Sylus assures you, taking your restless hand in his and squeezing it.
“How can you be so sure?”
There’s a gleam in his eyes, like a crow fixated on its most prized jewel. “I have many ways of getting what I want.”
“The way you said that was so romantic and not at all like a serial killer.”
Sylus barks out a laugh at your deadpan tone. “Yes, perhaps in another world, I’m a serial killer who tracks you down and makes you fall in love with me. And that’s how you end up one day using me as a chair while you pretend to read a book and have this conversation about all the other ways we might have met.”
“You’d make a great storyteller,” you tell him sincerely. “Although, that wasn’t one of the scenarios I had in mind.”
He blinks twice as he registers your words. “You had… scenarios in mind?”
You slap your hand over his mouth before he can break into a grin, or worse, laugh. “You promised,” you remind him, to which he nods, keeping his lips pressed together when you finally peel your fingers off his face.
“So, these scenarios… were those what you daydreaming about while I was here, in the flesh, next to you?”
“Well… it doesn’t sound so nice when you put it that way.”
“Uh-huh.”
“...Yes.”
“Okay then, tell me about them. These scenarios.” He drawls out the word like it’s an interesting new toy.
You perk up, excitement pulling taut in your abdomen. “You really want to hear about them?”
“Why not? If you’re going to be daydreaming while I’m here, might as well let me in on the fun.”
“Only if you say please.”
His lips stretch into the handsome, charming smile you know and love so much. It has you mentally kicking your feet like a schoolgirl, heart swelling up like a hot-air balloon.
“Please,” he indulges, ever patient with your demands.
“Okay, if you insist.” Content, you clear your throat after a light, giddy laugh.
And with that, you turn the cover open.