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“Sylus? Could you help me with this damned zipper please?” You call out to your beloved who had just stepped out of the bedroom. You’ve been fiddling with the metal fitting for what seemed like an eternity; the dratted thing always got stuck, but you are determined. There are no substitutes. This is your favorite dress and you were hell bent on wearing it.
Tonight was special. It only came around once a year, and the two of you always prioritized it above any other obligation. You want to look your best, dammit. And this godforsaken dress is it!
From your spot in front of the full length mirror, you feel his presence in the doorway. He’d been so calm and patient all day, not to mention quiet; unsettlingly so, actually. You let out an exasperated sigh, directed solely at the blasted zipper between your manicured fingers.
“I know I know… We’re running late” you let out in a huff trying to stay ahead of his usual smart remarks, “I didn’t think my hair appointment would take so long. If you can just… Help me with this thing. I’m almost…” You trail off into an exasperated grunt realizing he hadn’t moved from his spot.
“Sylus?” Your words are lost in the sight before you.
Sylus looks at you over his rimless glasses, his usual smirk replaced with a smile holding the echoes of all the love he’d carried for you over the years. Even after all this time, it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. One of his hands is stuffed casually into the pocket of his dress pants, the other holds a massive bouquet of stemless red roses.
You drop your arms, touched and impressed by the gesture. There he was, your silver fox in shining armour. Well… clad in an exquisite designer suit, which you found so much better
“Is it me or do the bouquets get bigger each year?” you quip.
“A representation of my growing affections for you.”
Every now and then he’ll ambush you with poetic gestures like these. He’s never failed to make your heart skip a beat, not once. “They’re beautiful.”
His smile widens at your approval, “I thought so as well, but I fear they pale in comparison, kitten.”
You try your best to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl, and turn your focus to the task at hand, not wanting to be late to your reservation, “Well, not quite yet they don’t. Could you give me a hand with this?”
Sylus makes his way over to you, flowers in hand. He detours toward the center of the room. The impeccable wrapping of the flower arrangement crinkles as he sets it down on the bed before he resumes his course to you ever so idly. You close your eyes, embellishing the anticipation of the experience that is his arrival. First is the scent of his cologne, subtle cognac and strong mahogany. The slik-like brush of his fingers comes next, flaring goosebumps down your arms. They’re followed by the gentle touch of his hands on your hips. Your lashes flutter open for the grand finale. Your portrait is perfectly encased within the elaborate borders of the mirror. It takes your breath away. Sylus stands behind you, admiring your reflection, just as breathtaking as the day he’d met you - gun shot and all. You can’t help but do the same.
He takes your breath away.
And you, his.
The years had been generous to you both, all things considered. Who would’ve thought you’d both age so gracefully. Guess all the running around you both did in your youth - hunter and hunted - actually did you both a favor. You’d managed to stay in good health to say the least. Still, father time had left his mark, and the sands of time had adorned you in their drapery of subtle wrinkles.
In recent years, Sylus’ hair has completed its metamorphosis from dashing white to an elegant silver. It fit him handsomely. You’re much more stubborn. Granted, If someone could guarantee you’d look just as good in gray, you’d consider breaking up with your hair dresser.
Some things however, never changed. Sylus’ eyes were still the same. You’d argue more brilliantly with the passage of time, a testament to his unchanging character. Sharp and cutting pools of the sweetest red wine. You’d often call them your most precious gems.
Sylus bends his head down and plants his lips on your bare shoulder. It’s a delicate gesture. As he continues dressing you with kisses up to your neck, his hands caress up the back of your arms, delighting in the softness of your skin. You close your eyes again, letting his affections take you.
“My love…” you sigh, a rather weak protest, trying to champion your impending dinner plans.
His response comes with a low hum, “I cancelled our reservation for tonight.”
“What?” your incredulity comes as a whisper, “How come?” You open your eyes to see him staring back at you. You’re overwhelmed by the way his gaze holds you. You’ve seen that look enough times to know there’s no jest behind it. Whatever it is he’s feeling, runs deep. He’d most likely been contemplating it for some time. And even though you’re not sure what it is, you already sense that you’ll agree with whatever it is. There’s a slight pause, but with a sigh, he recounts.
“I noticed something while I was getting dressed,” he drawls as he mirrors his attention onto your other shoulder, “I was whistling. I was looking forward to this night. I’d been looking forward to it all week, in fact. Dare I say, even longer before that.”
You’re moved and you’re curious at the same time, “Really?”
“Yes. I entertained the thought and started to ponder why that is. After all, while this is a special evening, we’ve celebrated each other countless times outside of the date. And we’ve been to this restaurant many times before.” His dexterous fingers make their way to the obstinate zipper, halted halfway up your back. Sylus gives the metal clasp a tug like it’s second nature. You feel the give of the fabric, but you bite the inside of your cheek when you notice it’s going in the wrong direction.
“It is your favorite.” you groan feeling the drag of his knuckles along your spine. Intermittently you feel the frigid touch of metal on his left hand. He lets them linger on the small of your back for a while, caressing the delicate skin around the opening of the dress.
His kisses stop, his hands follow, making their way back up your arms to your shoulders. You watch the reflective surface and feel Sylus rub his nose into your hair. His eyes blissfully close, taking in the scent of your perfume. An essence he’ll never tire of. An essence he’s protective over.
“That’s just it” he counters. Sylus then steps away from you, making his way back to the bed. His warmth is gone too soon. The top of your dress threatens to bare you before him. You instinctively hold the fabric up with one arm as you turn to face him.
“It’s not the night, it’s not just the date. It’s not dinner I’m looking forward to. It’s not the restaurant that’s my favorite” he claims, retrieving the discarded bouquet. “It’s you, sweetie.” His back is turned to you when he comes to his conclusion.
Your breath catches before he can even finish his declaration.
“And so I thought that, perhaps - just for tonight - I could be selfish. Instead of going outside, and sharing you with the world, I’d like to have you all to myself.” He offers you the flowers anew, smiling deep into your soul, “If you’ll have me, that is.”
You take the flowers into your arms, letting your dress drop; decency be damned. You’d already bore everything, promised everything of yourself to this man, and you’d do it over and over again without question. Without a second thought.
Worried that in your stunned silence you’d been disappointed at the sudden change of plans, he tries to ease you, “We can do anything you like. I’ve sent everyone away, even Mephisto, so we’ll have the manor to ourselves--” You quiet him with a kiss, standing on the tips of your toes, smooshing the flowers between the two of you. His arms steady you at your hips, careful you’ll topple over. He takes it that you agree and returns the kiss in all its warmth. You part short of breath with only the purpose to reassure him.
“Screw dinner! I don’t care what we do, because… Yes. A million times yes,” you tell him with tears in your eyes, “Of course I’ll have you. I’ll always have you. And you,” you take a moment to caress his cheek, look into his stunned expression, “The incredible man that you are. You will always have me”
“I never have and never will want anyone else but you, Sylus” You seal your declaration with a kiss.
Wrapping both arms around you, he pulls you into a tight embrace. He spins you just so he can feel the tightening of your embrace around his neck and the heavenly choir of your laughter against his lips. Discarded red petals scatter on the carpeted floor all around you. Your lips part with only just enough distance to lock eyes with each other.
“Happy Anniversary, boss man”
“Here’s to many more, my beloved.”