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sylus. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁˖ .
The room felt unbearably vast without him. His side of the bed had cooled hours ago, leaving you restless and sulky in the tangle of sheets. You rolled toward the hollow he’d left behind, nose pressed into the pillow that still carried the faintest trace of his shampoo — sharp cedar, smoke, something darkly clean that was uniquely him. You breathed it in like it could trick your body into thinking he was still here, but it only made the ache sharper.
Your fingers drifted over the blankets where he usually sprawled, searching for warmth that wasn’t there. The air was heavy with his cologne, threaded faintly into the fabric, and still it wasn’t enough. It felt like every part of you was tuned to his absence — your skin prickling with the memory of his touch, your ears straining for the sound of his boots in the hall.
With a little whimper, you slipped out of bed and padded across the room. His closet yawned open like a forbidden door, lined with rows of pressed shirts and jackets. You ran your hand along them, overwhelmed by the sheer presence of him woven into every piece. Finally, you tugged free a black button-down, the fabric cool against your skin as you slid it over your bare shoulders. It hung loose, swallowing you whole, smelling of him so strongly it made your knees weak.
You wrapped your arms around yourself, burying your face against the collar as though you could fold him into your bones this way. Still, the ache remained. Still, you missed him like you hadn’t seen him in weeks instead of a handful of hours.
You stepped out of the closet, drowning in Sylus’s shirt, when a sharp caw made you freeze.
Perched on the high canopy of the bedframe, Mephisto tilted his metallic head, one crimson eye glinting in the low light. His wings twitched once, the faint whirr of gears filling the silence before another, even more insistent caw broke it.
You narrowed your eyes at him, clutching the loose folds of the shirt closer to your chest. “Don’t look at me like that,” you muttered, cheeks heating. “I’m not pathetic, I just…miss him.”
The crow ruffled its steel feathers with a grinding clink , letting out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.
“Stop making fun of me!” you huffed, stamping your bare foot against the rug. “If you’re so smart, why don’t you tell your dad to come home already?”
Mephisto tilted his head again, gaze unblinking, before loosing another harsh, mocking caw that had you groaning in frustration.
“Stupid bird,” you grumbled, pushing past the heavy door into the hall, the long sleeves of Sylus’s shirt slipping past your hands as you walked. “Traitor.”
The base was quiet at this hour, shadows pooling in the corners as you padded barefoot down the hall. The sleeves of Sylus’s shirt slipped over your hands, brushing against your thighs with every step, the faint trace of his cologne clinging stubbornly to the fabric. It was a poor substitute for his arms, but it was all you had.
In the lounge, the dim glow of the record player caught your eye. You hesitated only a moment before kneeling to rifle through the stack of vinyls, fingers finding the one you knew by heart. His favorite. The one he always put on when the two of you ended up circling the room together, swaying like conspirators lost in your own secret world.
You set the record gently in place, lowering the needle until the warm crackle of sound filled the air. Strings swelled low and smooth, the melody wrapping around you like a memory. You could almost feel the ghost of his hand at your waist, the heat of his palm spanning the small of your back as he pulled you into a slow dance only he knew the rhythm of.
Curling up on the couch, you drew your knees to your chest, burying your face in the collar of his shirt. The cushions smelled faintly of smoke and leather, lingering traces of him that only made you ache more. You let the music play, trying to imagine he was here, that any moment you’d look up and find him standing over you with that insufferable smirk — ready to tease you for missing him this badly.
Instead, there was only the music and the silence between each note, deepening the emptiness until you thought you might drown in it.
“You look like a kitten licking its wounds, sweetie.”
The low rumble of his voice slid through the lounge, curling around you before you even had the chance to lift your head. Your breath caught. Then you saw him — leaning against the doorframe, silver hair catching the dim lamplight, that insufferable smirk tugging at his lips.
You didn’t think — you just bolted. The record player hummed in the background as you scrambled off the couch and all but launched yourself at him. He caught you with a quiet oof, stumbling back half a step before his arms locked around your waist.
A laugh rumbled in his chest, deep and warm against your ear. “Miss me, kitten?”
You buried your face in his shirtfront, clutching fistfuls of his coat like you might fall apart if you let go. The sheer relief of his warmth, his scent — him — made your eyes sting. Slowly, you tilted your head up, cheeks burning, lips parting as if to say something but only managing a little nod. Your eyes met his, wide and starry, and the smirk on his mouth softened, just barely.
He brushed a thumb over your cheek, tilting your chin so he could study your expression. “I was only gone for a few hours,” he teased, leaning down until his breath grazed your lips. “And here you are, acting like I vanished for days. What would you do if I actually left you for a week?”
You huffed, face heating even more, clinging tighter to him. “Didn’t realize missing my boyfriend was a crime.”
Sylus chuckled, low and rich, as though savoring the words. “Mm. No crime,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But it might just be dangerous, sweetie. You keep looking at me like that, and I’ll never want to leave again.”
He guided you back toward the couch, one large hand warm at the small of your back. When he sat, he pulled you effortlessly into his lap, settling you sideways against him. His coat slipped from his shoulders as though it had been waiting for this moment, pooling around the both of you.
Before he could speak, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Then another. Then another. Your lips flitted over his face in a frantic scatter — his jaw, the corner of his mouth, even the slope of his nose. A giggle bubbled out of you as you caught the faint flush climbing his ears, and that only encouraged you to lean down, brushing a trail against his throat where the collar of his shirt gaped open.
He tilted his head back with a low groan, ears burning crimson despite the smirk tugging at his mouth. “What’s all this for, kitten?”
You drew back just far enough to beam at him, cheeks flushed, voice soft but so earnest it hurt. “I’m making up for lost time.”
A laugh rumbled through him, though it was laced with fondness. He wrapped his arms snugly around your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your ribs. He stole a kiss of his own, then another, slower this time, his lips warm and lingering on yours.
When he shifted like he meant to set you aside, you immediately latched onto him, arms tightening around his shoulders. “No—don’t let go,” you pleaded, muffled against his neck.
Sylus chuckled, giving your hip a squeeze. “Relax, sweetie. I just need to get changed. You can argue with Mephisto again while you wait.”
That was when his gaze dipped lower, taking in the way his black button-down draped over you, the hem brushing your thighs and the sleeves nearly swallowing your hands. His mouth curved into something sharper than a smirk, crimson eyes glittering.
“Well, look at you,” he drawled, thumb brushing over the fabric at your hip. “Stealing my clothes now? You know it’s dangerous to tempt me like this, kitten.”
Your cheeks burned as you squirmed in his lap, tugging the fabric tighter around yourself. “It smells like you,” you muttered, almost shy, as though that excused the crime.
“Kitten…” His voice went low, a dangerous sort of affection threading through it. He tugged you back into his chest, lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “You’re going to kill me.”
caleb. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁˖ .
The morning light crept gently across the room, spilling in pale gold over messy sheets. Caleb’s arm was still heavy around your waist, pinning you close against the steady rise and fall of his chest. He’d been gone most of yesterday, the empty ache of his absence stretching every hour unbearably thin. Now that he was here again, you couldn’t sleep — afraid to waste a single second of his closeness.
You tilted your head to watch him. His lashes brushed faint shadows over his cheeks, his features softened in sleep, all the edges of his usual restraint melted into something almost boyish. The sight made your chest ache. Carefully, you lifted a hand, tracing the bridge of his nose with the barest touch of your fingertip. Down over the strong curve of his brow, along the delicate line of his cheeks, admiring the faint freckles decorating his skin.
“So cute,” you breathed, the words slipping out before you could catch them.
You let your fingers wander over his jawline, brushing along the soft curve of his neck, lingering where his pulse beat steadily beneath your touch. “I missed you so much yesterday,” you murmured softly, barely above a whisper. “You’re so mean for leaving me alone like that…” Your lips brushed against his temple as you sighed, “You better make it up to me today, you know.”
Sliding your hand through his hair, you marveled at how impossibly soft it was, tangling your fingers gently in the strands, tugging lightly as though you could tether him to you with nothing but touch. “I just…don’t want to let you go,” you admitted, pressing your forehead briefly to his temple.
Your gaze dropped to his mouth — soft, parted slightly in sleep — and before you could stop yourself, you let your finger trail lightly along the curve of his lower lip, tracing it like it was a map you wanted to memorize.
In the next instant, his hand closed gently but firmly around your wrist. Your breath caught as violet eyes blinked open, clear and focused despite the drowsy hour. Without a word, he brought your hand to his mouth and pressed a featherlight kiss to your fingertips, lips warm against your skin.
“Watchin’ me sleep, pips?” His voice was low and a little rough with sleep, but the amused curve of his lips gave him away. He brushed another kiss to your fingertips before smirking faintly. “Couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, hm?”
Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you ducked your head against his chest. “I can’t help it…” you whispered, embarrassed but too earnest to deny it.
That earned you a soft chuckle, the kind that made his whole chest move beneath you. He pressed his lips to the crown of your head, lingering there for a moment as if to seal the words away.
“ Annnd … I heard you talking to me,” he added suddenly, voice low and teasing.
Your eyes went wide. “I–I was not ! I mean…maybe a little…” you stammered, cheeks flaming.
He grinned, violet eyes sparkling. “I’m evil, huh? You were muttering about missin’ me, how mean I am…all that. You sure have a lot to say when you think I’m sleepin’, pips.”
“I meant what I said!” you shot back, fingers pinching his cheek lightly, trying to look stern but failing miserably.
Caleb’s lips curved into a soft laugh as he gazed down at you, eyes warm and teasing. You noticed the way his expression softened, the hint of amusement and affection dancing in his features. “If you had a tail right now,” you murmured, grinning, “it’d be wagging like crazy.”
His blush was subtle but undeniable, and he let out a low chuckle. “Hush,” he murmured.
Then, without warning, Caleb shifted. He slipped his arm free from around your waist and sat up, swinging his long legs over the edge of the bed. The cool morning air rushed in where his warmth had been, making you jolt upright in panic.
Before he could stand, you scrambled after him, throwing your arms around his shoulders from behind. You leaned your cheek against his broad back, clinging with all the strength you had. “Nooo, don’t leave me,” you whined, voice muffled against his shirt.
Caleb tipped his head back with a quiet laugh, shoulders shaking beneath your hold. “Pips… I’m just going to brush my teeth.”
You only squeezed tighter, burying your face into the curve of his neck like a child refusing to be parted from their favorite toy. He tilted his head slightly, violet eyes softening at your stubbornness.
“Hopeless little thing,” he murmured, amusement thick in his voice, though his hand still came up to rest over yours, keeping you pressed close.
Caleb sighed, shoulders dropping in defeat as your arms tightened around him. “I can’t say no to my favorite little cuddlebug,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement.
You grinned against his shoulder, triumphant. “You’ve never been able to.”
He gave a quiet huff of laughter, twisting just enough to glance at you. “Spoiled,” he accused gently.
“That’s your fault,” you shot back, smiling into his shirt.
The two of you laughed together, the sound soft in the quiet morning. Caleb let himself sink back against the pillows, tugging you into his chest as though you belonged nowhere else. You happily sprawled over him, nuzzling close before pressing featherlight kisses along the plane of his chest. The steady beat of his heart thudded beneath your lips, grounding you in a way nothing else could.
When you tilted your head up, you found his eyes already on you — violet gaze warm, almost reverent, like you were something fragile and priceless. The intensity of it made your breath catch, a hot blush rising to your cheeks.
“You really can’t get enough, can you?” His voice was soft, edged with a teasing lilt but carrying something deeper underneath.
You shook your head, smiling shyly. “No. Never.”
His lips curved as he bent to kiss you — slow, tender, the kind of kiss that promised he’d give you as much of him as you wanted. When you finally parted, you lingered close, your breath fanning over his skin.
“Can we stay like this all day?” you whispered, searching his eyes.
Caleb’s hand stroked gently up your back, pulling you even tighter into his arms. “As long as you want, pips,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your hair. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
rafayel. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁˖ . ݁
The studio was quiet, bathed in the soft, golden glow of the late afternoon sun slipping through the high windows. You moved with careful, deliberate motions, arranging everything just so. A stack of the softest blankets was draped over the couch, plumped and inviting. Your fingers lingered on the fabric, imagining him sinking into it, curling up against you.
On the small media console, you queued up your favorite movie — the one you both always ended up watching multiple times in a row — and turned the sound low so the sound wouldn’t startle him. Around the room, you placed little bowls of his favorite snacks, everything exactly how he liked it. Then you reached for the playlist you’d made together, pressing play; the soft, familiar melodies filled the studio, wrapping the space in warmth and anticipation.
You paused for a moment, leaning against the counter as your thoughts drifted. You remembered the way he’d pouted earlier in the week, that faint crease between his brows when you told him you couldn’t make it to the exhibition. How much you’d wanted to kiss that stubborn little frown right off his face.
Now, with the day finally yours, and with a little luck, you could do exactly that. The thought made your chest swell, heart skipping. You glanced at the couch again, imagining him walking in, that quiet, restrained smile tugging at his lips, and you pressing yourself into him until he could breathe nothing but you.
Your fingers brushed over the blankets once more, smoothing them as though by magic you could transmit all the longing you’d carried through the day. Both of you, you knew, were dangerously close to the same thought: you’d been apart too long, and tonight would make up for every hour.
The moment he walked through that door…you’d never want to let go.
Once the studio felt just right, you slipped quietly out, making your way to Rafayel’s bedroom. The familiar scent of him lingered faintly in the air, a mix of sea salt and something uniquely him , and it made your chest tighten in the sweetest ache. You opened his dresser drawer and reached for the bottle of his favorite perfume, pressing it lightly to your pulse points. The fragrance wrapped around you instantly, and you closed your eyes, imagining him leaning close enough to inhale it.
Your gaze fell to the sweater he’d left draped over the foot of the bed. You hesitated only a moment before slipping it over your shoulders, the soft fabric falling loosely around you. It was his, but somehow it felt like it had been made to fit you, like a warm hug waiting to be claimed. You tugged the sleeves down over your hands, letting yourself curl into it, imagining him standing in the doorway and catching sight of you like this.
A blush crept over your cheeks at the thought. You pressed your fingertips against the fabric, wishing it was his skin beneath your fingers instead.
You moved to the mirror, brushing a hand through your hair, smoothing it as best you could while sneaking small glances at yourself in his sweater. Every detail — every fold, every soft line of the fabric — made you ache to be close to him. The thought of him walking in, of finally being able to hold him, made your stomach flutter uncontrollably.
The quiet of the studio felt almost unbearable, each second stretching longer than the last, the anticipation of him returning making your chest ache with yearning you could no longer contain.
The sweater hung loosely around you, soft and comforting, and you tugged it just slightly over your hands, feeling closer to him somehow. Just as you were about to give yourself one last once-over in the mirror, your phone buzzed on the dresser.
Rafayel’s name lit up the screen. You swiped to answer, heart racing.
“Finally, cutie,” he said the moment you picked up, voice low and teasing. “This exhibition is sooo boring. Thomas won’t let me leave, and I’m stuck staring at paintings I barely care about.”
You sighed dramatically, leaning against the dresser. “Mm, I know the feeling,” you murmured, playing along. “Work’s been endless too…papers, meetings, deadlines. I barely have time to breathe.”
A soft laugh rumbled through the phone. “Mm, poor thing. You’re so busy suffering without me,” he teased, seaglass eyes sparkling in your imagination. “Sounds unfair.”
“Terribly unfair,” you agreed, feigning exhaustion. “I’ve been counting the hours until I can finally see you again.”
Raf let out a low, affectionate chuckle. “Mm…you’re evil, you know that? Always trying to make me miss you more.”
“I can’t help it,” you murmured, tugging lightly at the edge of the sweater, hiding your excitement. “I just…miss you so much.”
“And I miss you, cutie,” he replied, his voice softening though the teasing lilt never left it. “I’ll be home soon. You should just tell your boss you’ve got an emergency and sneak out early—then we’ll get home at the same time.”
You grinned, warmth rushing through you. “Bad fishie,” you murmured. “Trying to corrupt me with your tactics.”
He chuckled, low and easy, and it sent your heart tumbling. “Corrupting you? Puh-lease . I haven’t even suggested you quit and become my full-time bodyguard. I’m being extremely well-behaved.”
“Mm, sure you are,” you teased back. “Just hurry home. Maybe you’ll get lucky and I’ll actually beat you there.”
He sighed dramatically. “Don’t play with me like that, cutie. If you give me false hope, I might start crying. You won’t even know what to do with all the pearls.”
The two of you lingered in that easy rhythm for a while, trading playful remarks until a faint scolding carried through the receiver — Thomas snapping at him about “hiding in corners and scaring off clients.” You heard Rafayel laugh under his breath, the sound quick and guilty, before you both reluctantly said your goodbyes.
You padded back into the living room, sweater sleeves still tugged over your hands. The room glowed warm with low lamplight, the food laid out just right, pillows fluffed, everything neat in preparation for his return. You smoothed the throw across the couch one last time, nerves fizzing in your chest.
The faint sound of a key turning in the lock made you freeze.
The door opened, and Rafayel stepped inside, loosening his tie, brushing imaginary dust from his shoulders. His eyes lifted — and then widened the second they landed on you.
“…Cutie?” His voice was full of disbelief, then blooming into a laugh. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at work.”
You smiled sheepishly, tugging the sweater closer around yourself. “I wanted to surprise you. I missed you too much to wait.”
He blinked, then let out a breathless laugh, dropping his tie onto the nearest chair before crossing the distance in three long strides. “You sneaky girl. I came home early to surprise you.”
You barely had time to respond before he swept you up into his arms, lifting you off your feet as he spun you once. His laughter brushed against your cheek, warm and unguarded, before he kissed you — quick, soft, then again, longer, his smile breaking against your lips.
“My fishie,” you teased when you finally pulled back, forehead resting against his, palms cupping his cheeks. “You’re so hopeless.”
“Hopeless for you, cutie,” he murmured, voice husky as he cradled your face in his hands and kissed you again.
The rest dissolved into warmth — your hands tangled in his hair, his arms wrapped tight around you, both of you laughing against each other’s mouths like you couldn’t get enough, couldn’t believe you were really here, together, at the same time, with all the missing finally soothed in the circle of his arms.
Rafayel barely let you go long enough to kick the door shut. He dropped his coat where it fell and tugged you toward the couch like a man starved, pulling you into his arms the moment he sat.
You went willingly, curling into him, arms looped around his neck, your face buried against the soft warmth of his neck. “I missed you so much, Raf,” you whispered, the words tumbling out as though you couldn’t hold them back. “I thought about you all day. I hate being away from you.”
He laughed quietly, but it cracked in the middle, betraying just how much he’d been missing you too. His arms cinched tight around your waist, and he nuzzled into your hair. “You’re not allowed to say things like that when I’m already this weak for you, cutie. Do you have any idea how close I am to never letting you out of my sight again?”
“Good,” you mumbled stubbornly, tightening your hold on him. “Don’t let me go. Ever.”
He shifted, just enough to look down at you, his eyes bright and intent. “You mean it?”
You gave the tiniest nod, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another, and another, like you couldn’t get enough of him. He laughed against your lips, but every time you leaned in, he met you halfway, greedy for more.
“Mine,” he murmured between kisses, hands stroking up your back, anchoring you close. “All mine. You don’t know what you do to me when you cling like this, cutie.”
“And you don’t know what you do to me,” you countered, cheeks warm, though you refused to let go. You settled yourself more firmly in his lap, arms wound around him tight, practically molded to him. “You came home early and I still feel like I haven’t had enough of you. I don’t think I ever will.”
That earned you another low, helpless laugh, his forehead resting against yours as if he needed the contact as much as he needed air. “We really are hopeless, huh.”
You only smiled, brushing your nose against his.
He kissed you again, and again, and again — both of you tangled so close neither one could tell who was clinging harder, just two hopeless, needy hearts who couldn’t get enough of being exactly where they belonged.