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Sylus taps his fingers in a rhythm on his car's center console, staring out his front window at your apartment complex. This shouldn't feel intimidating. He's been to your place before. He's a mob boss. He's knowingly walked into rooms filled with armed men and felt less nervous than he does now.
It's just that this is his first time visiting so casually. He had come over before to pick you up for dates, but you always cleaned the place beforehand and dressed up in a cute outfit for him. He's never seen you without a pre-prepared layer of polish over your behavior and appearance. He's never seen you bare, never seen your apartment messy, never seen you sleepy-eyed and groggy in the mornings, or dozing off on soft nights.
He's elated at the prospect of seeing your more vulnerable self, of course. He just doesn't want to react in the wrong way and spook you. It's rare for you to let someone close to you like this, and just the slightest hint of unease or discomfort in your expression could undo him.
He has been meticulous about minding your boundaries and taking things slowly, moving in accordance with your comfort level and gradually building your trust in him. He longs to be your safe person, someone you know you can rely on after being burned so many times before. The last thing he wants is to push things too far and feel you slip through his fingers like sand.
Sylus takes in a deep breath and exhales in a sigh, sitting up straight and gathering his things. You just finished battling a brutal stretch of short deadlines and accepted his offer of coming to see you with your favorite takeout for a movie night. You told him about your exhausted state and let him know you were too drained to clean or dress up, and he assured you he didn't mind. You're probably hungry and waiting for him, and he can't just keep sitting in his car all day.
He gives himself one last moment to steel himself and regain his composure, then opens the car door and climbs out with the food, his movements smooth and graceful in a way that almost seems unfeasible with his long limbs. His heart pounds harder than he'd like to admit as he walks into the elevator, nervously cracking the knuckles of his free hand as he waits the agonizing thirty seconds it takes to reach your floor.
The elevator opens with a quiet ding, and before he realizes it, he's already at your front door. He's here, there's no going back. No more hesitation. He knocks a firm rhythm onto the metal, and feels his heart rate spike when you answer from inside.
"Be right there!"
He hears your socked feet padding towards the door, and-
There you are. You're clad in one of his t-shirts, which practically swallows your frame, leaving just a hint of your pajama shorts underneath. You're showing more skin than usual, granting Sylus clearer insight into the shape of your form. Your hair is fluffy and a bit mussed-up, and he can see the bags that had developed under your eyes over the past weeks of work. You look so soft like this.
And your scars. The ones you had mentioned prior, the marks that are always concealed under fabric, kept hidden away from even your close friends. You've chosen to leave them out in the open air, to allow him to see your closely guarded secret, rolling over and showing him your soft underbelly in hopes of receiving acceptance and finding solace in sharing this part of you with someone else.
Sylus can feel a subtle blush blooming on his cheeks, and he just barely maintains his steady voice and composure as he leans against your doorframe. It takes great restraint to keep himself from stepping forward and pulling you tightly into his embrace, ensuring that you know that you're his, all his. It's hard to tease you when all the words jumble up in his head and threaten to escape his lips in the form of desperate confessions.
"Long time no see, kitten. Did you miss me while you were holed up in that little office of yours?"
"Maybe," you huff in response, pretending to be unaffected. But you perk back up when you smell the food, looking up at him like a hopeful puppy. "Come in?" you ask, gently grasping his wrist and tugging him forward.
"Of course." He responds as smoothly as he can, following you inside and closing the door behind him, toeing off his shoes neatly.
It's seeing your space that undoes the final knot holding back his pining. It's a bit messy, but everywhere in the clutter, he can see you. The snacks you leave by the TV for easy access, the jackets folded over chairs, the rumpled comforter on your bed, the books and trinkets and little notes left out, even the few dirty dishes and socks that just missed the laundry basket. Just being able to view your home like this feels as though you're entrusting him with a little piece of your soul.
His words have the slightest wobble when he speaks up again, deep tenderness swirling in his eyes when they meet yours.
"Sweetheart... may I hold you?"
All you need to do is nod, allowing Sylus to pull you tightly into his embrace. It's a little rougher than usual, more desperate, more constrictive, but you welcome the extra affection. He exhales shakily, his breath brushing your hair as he nearly envelops your smaller form with his own. His hands feel so large against your back, clutching you tight, fingers solid against your ribcage, as if you could slip from his grasp at any moment.
He presses soft kisses to your neck, lavishing you with his overflowing adoration, your proximity flooding his senses with an amount of fondness he hadn't thought possible.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers, the tremble in his hands betraying his desire to say so much more. He pulls away for a moment only to hold your forearm delicately with one hand, gently kissing his way up the scarred skin. His eyes meet your wide ones, and he soothes the thumb of his free hand over your heated cheek. "Promise me... you'll let me see you like this more often?"
When you nod, he notices the tears gathering in your eyes and bubbling over to drip down your cheeks. Cooing at you softly, he releases your arm in order to hold your face in both of his hands, tenderly kissing away the fragile, bittersweet little droplets until a smile returns to your face.
"I could never possibly express how much I adore you," he murmurs, staring deeply into your eyes. "So, please... allow me to pamper you tonight?"
"Yes," you respond, your smile mirroring his own. Upon receiving your approval, Sylus laughs softly, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck before he lifts you in a tight hug, his lips pressed against yours.
When the two of you reluctantly part, Sylus kisses both of your cheeks, your nose, then your forehead, before meeting your gaze again. "Now, how about we take care of a certain kitten's hunger?"
---
The two of you end the night with full bellies and warm hearts after eating comfort food and sharing some of your favorite movies.
You dozed off on the couch, and Sylus just barely manages to coax you into brushing your teeth and heading to bed. Just as he pulls away to return to the couch, he feels two smaller hands grabbing one of his own. Pausing, he turns back to face you, and is met with the biggest puppy eyes you've ever given him.
"Stay? Please?" you beg, and Sylus doesn't have the heart to say no. He climbs into bed alongside you, already wearing pajamas he had brought with him just in case. The sleepy, happy hum you grant him as you snuggle close and melt into his chest is enough to make his heart thrum with fondness.
He rubs his hand up and down your back in the way that he learned relaxes you best, and you're fast asleep in no time, legs entangled with his own. Your face relaxed in sleep is adorable, a pure, genuine sign of your trust in him, and Sylus already knows this is a memory he'll treasure for as long as he lives.