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The casino has one rule overarching any other: Do not touch the women working here.
A man with white spiked hair and eyes like rubies watches this rule be reinforced with an amused smile on his face from his poker table. The woman in front of him is apprehending a man who gripped the dealer by the wrist, whether in anger or drunken stupor he doesn't know, but it results in the same punishment anyway.
There's yelling, a scream before the man is silenced and tossed away like a ragdoll, and then immediately taken by the cleanup crew as the woman walks away without a word. Business as usual. The casino chatter continues on.
The amusement never leaving his face, the man with white hair gets up and leaves his table, slowly but deliberately following, back straight and hands in his pockets. His height always came in handy for times like these, allowing him to never lose sight of his targets.
The woman was already sitting down at the bar, the place she always goes to catch a breather if there's no time for her to make it back to her office. Before she can sigh out her order, the man sits down beside her and offers to buy her a drink.
He's taller than her, much taller, yet she shoots a defiant glare towards his direction as if she were looking down on him. Just who does this guy think he is to talk to her and take up her time? She runs this joint, not that he needs to know that. Just as she's about to shoo him away, she makes eye contact with his striking red gaze.
They were familiar to her, in a vague way. Like a dull, long forgotten memory she couldn't quite seem to unlock. In an instant the surroundings in her vision washed away and she was suddenly sitting in a field of crimson daturas gently swaying in the breeze, a dark figure laying next to her. Just as quickly as the illusion began, it all vanished in the blink of an eye. The man's smirk widened as he watched the woman's flash of anger and annoyance slowly settle into slight bewilderment. As if to answer a question she refused to ask, he speaks.
"We've met before."
Something about his smugness and the tone of his voice pissed her off. Annoyance painted her face once again and she mirrored his smirk, spitting out her reply like venom.
"Oh, have we? I don't recognize you. You must have not made an impression on me," she says, hoping to wound him enough into leaving.
If he was hurt, he showed no signs of it. He didn't even flinch. His head rested on his hand, body turned towards her as if in surrender. His smile was different this time. It was no longer a smirk, but the warm, gentle smile of a man in love. It caught the woman off guard, but she was unrelenting in her mission to get him to leave her alone. Before she can call for security to have him escorted out, he interrupts.
"Then allow me to reintroduce myself. I'm Sylus."
The woman raises a brow. Taking a second look at him, he's actually quite handsome. Feeling playful, she changes her mind and decides to entertain this just a little while longer, adjusting her tone of voice.
"Sylus? And just what does the big, bad leader of Onychinus want with little 'ol me?"
He stretches his hand towards her, palm up. An invitation. She can refuse of course, easily. She could opt to end all of this right here, right now. But she instead chooses to continue to humor him, placing her hand in his and keeping her head held high as he delicately kisses the back of her hand, more tender than she ever thought was capable of such a tough looking man.
His head still lowered, Sylus looks up and smiles again.
"I'd love to discuss that with you- at a later time. Right now, let's just have a drink together."
He signals to the bartender to bring out the finest wine in house. He's a regular here? Interesting. This man is full of surprises. Perhaps she'll entertain his company for just a little while longer.