#Ruby stud Earrings

[sonoor]

Elegant Anshila Ruby Kundan Pearl Drop Stud Earrings

Add a touch of sophistication with these Anshila Ruby Kundan Pearl Drop Studs. These exquisite ruby Kundan earrings feature vibrant ruby stones set in a traditional design, enhanced by delicate pearl drops. Perfect for any occasion, these ruby stud earrings are a stunning blend of elegance and charm. The intricate craftsmanship of these Kundan drop earrings makes them a must-have for your jewelry collection. https://sonoor.com/products/anshila-ruby-kundan-pearl-drop-studs Don't miss out—shop today and elevate your style with these timeless beauties!

[chordiajewel]

Natural Burma Ruby Stud Earrings in 14k Real Gold

Natural Burma Ruby Stud Earrings | 14k Real Gold Aquamarine Gemstone Studs | 4mm Round Ruby 3 Stone Earrings for Her | Wedding Gift Earrings | Birthstone Earrings | Gift for Her | Wedding Gift | Gold Jewelry | Birthstone Jewelry | Handmade Jewelry

[minersgemsjewelry]

Ruby Dangle Earrings Set in 14K White Gold With 10 Freeform Rubies Totaling 14.55CT With 1.51CT Black And 0.06CT White Side Round Diamonds.

[hvnterzmoon]

I may or may not be awake and I may or may not be thinking about mountain and his piercings…

[rahabs]

I went to my best friend's magical wedding last week and the only photos I took of myself were shitty mirror selfies with my purse hanging open 🖤

[glamourjewellers]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Glamour Jewellers (@glamourjewellers)

Elegant and timeless, these 18 Karat Rose Gold Ruby and Diamond Stud Earrings from Glamour Jewellers radiate sophistication. Perfect for adding a touch of sparkle to any look, these stunning earrings feature high-quality diamonds set in luxurious rose gold. A must-have addition to your jewelry collection!" WhatsApp 📲 : 056 874 7304 📍 Visit us at: https://bit.ly/jewelry-storein-dubai-glamour-jewellers . . . #RoseGoldEarrings #DiamondStuds #GlamourJewellers #LuxuryJewelry #TimelessElegance

[thewajewelry]

Navratri special Collection Thewa Jewellery!

Getting ready in Navratri for Garba is what we wait for!

Beautiful collection of 23 k Gold Thewa art on glass with kundan fusion work and real ruby gemstone beading jewellery as Navratri accessories.

To shop visit our website www.sonkanch.com or walk in store or DM@9351511707

In Focus :

Material Used - 23 k Gold , Glass , 925 Silver Gold Plated , Red Ruby Gemstones , Silver Kundan and Mozonite

Man Hours/ Time Taken -180 hours

———————————————————————————-

Note : All Rights on IP are reserved by SONKANCH. Due steps have taken to protect our IP. Any violation of our IP will invoke due legal actions & consequences

________________________________________________

⭐Certified for gold and silver purity by leading laboratories.

⭐Guarantee on Back Silver Cover Gold Plating.

⭐100% Exchange of Full Bill Amount after 3 years

⭐️ Free Shipping All Over India

#navratri #garba #dandiya #chaniyacholi #kutch #Gujarat #Ahmedabad #vadodra #surat #jewellery #garbajewellery #oxidisedjewellery #sonkanch #thewaart #thewaartjewellerypratapgarh #thewajewelry #thewajewellery #gold #silver #kundan #jaipur #rajasthan #indianwedding #indianjewellery #bride #bridal #bridaljewellery #handmade #jewellerylover #jewellerydesign

http://www.sonkanch.com

[simonsjewelers]

What Factors influence the Quality and Value of Gemstone Stud Earrings?

Gemstone stud earrings enhance any jewelry collection and may be worn regularly or on special occasions. These earrings show off your flair and taste, whether you pick sapphires, rubies, or other stones. But picking the correct gemstone studs needs understanding what factors determine their value.     

[customfinejewelry]

Celebrities' Favorite Diamond Earrings from Tivol Jewelers

Adorn yourself in elegance with diamond earrings from Tivol Jewelers. Our exquisite collection features a stunning array of designs, from classic studs to glamorous drops. Each piece is crafted with precision and artistry, radiating timeless beauty and sophistication. Elevate your style with the brilliance of diamond earrings from Tivol Jewelers.

[stalcryshop]

Korean Temperament Ruby Earrings - 925 Sterling Silver

Are there different types of rubies?

[certifiedfinejewellry]

Throughout the guide, we will focus on the exquisite pearl necklace and the alluring pendant chain. So, get ready to dive into a sea of elegance and beauty as we uncover the secrets of sapphire pearl jewelry. Read more: https://shorturl.at/qAEOY

[chordiajewel]

Natural 6x4mm Oval Cut Ruby Stud Earrings in 14k Solid Gold For Women

Natural Ruby Stud Earrings in 14k Solid Gold | Gemstone Earrings | 6x4mm Oval Cut Ruby Handmade Studs | July Birthstone Earrings | Engagement Gift | Anniversary Gift for Her | Jewelry for Women | Wedding Earring | Handmade Earring, Gemstone Jewelry | Gemstone Studs

[gembleu]

GEMSTONES & WEDDING ANNIVERSARIES - KNOW WHICH IS FOR WHICH

Every wedding anniversary is a new chapter in your book of togetherness and jewelry has always been an ideal present to signify that bond. Each wedding anniversary year has been associated with a unique gemstone, while silver and golden anniversaries, 25th and 50th respectively, are common, there is quite a long list of gemstones that compliment other marriage milestone years. Listed below are relevant anniversaries and the gemstones related to each: -

Diamond - For a sparkly 10th & 60th

When you ‘re celebrating 10 years of marriage, it could be considered your first big milestone. There is nothing as royal as the diamond to commemorate the day. Gift your partner something enchanting, like our diamond bracelet that can be treasured forever.

And when you reach your 60th, the diamond still remains significant, as a strong, bright and glorious commemoration of your time together. Visit our website for a gorgeous diamond collection that also includes more designs for diamond bracelets for women as well as diamond rings, pendants and much more.

Tanzanite - For a vibrant 24th

The tantalizing violetish-blue hues of tanzanite are said to bring harmony and peace to its wearers. Moreover, tanzanite is believed to transform negative emotions into happy ones. So, celebrate your 24th anniversary with new promises of love and maybe a pair of enticing tanzanite stud earrings to make your partner feel a little extra loved.

Emerald - For a stunning 20th & 35th

Emerald rings have always received a lot of attention as they symbolize hope and romance. The spectacular green hues of the gemstone make it worth lending to any style of jewelry. To properly commemorate your 20th anniversary, a spectacular emerald ring, a symbol of your undying romance, is the best possible present. And when you’ve reached your 35th, consider a matching pair of green emerald earrings for our collection.

Ruby - For a grand 40th

Use the radiance of the lovely red ruby gemstone to convey your love and devotion to your partner. Celebrate 40 years of togetherness with a gift that encapsulates just how deep your love runs, with an exquisitely designed ruby pendant necklace from our collection.

Each passing anniversary is an opportunity to celebrate the vows of marriage and keep them strong. There’s no better way to do this than to commemorate this special occasion with a beautiful and symbolic gemstone. And now, if you’ve been wondering what type of jewelry to gift your partner, on any of these anniversaries, we hope this list makes it crystal clear. GemBleu's extravagant collection of certified jewelry also covers a much wider range of gemstone jewelry for every other important event in your life. All our products come with a lifetime warranty and free delivery services across the US*.

Follow our social media handles for our latest collections and offers.

Source URL — https://www.gembleu.com/blogs/news/gemstones-wedding-anniversaries-know-which-is-for-which

[taylorswiftstyle]

Chiefs vs Ravens | Kansas City, MO | September 5, 2024

Versace 'Medusa Bustier' - $1,325.00 For Future Reference 'Vintage 1970s Ancient Bronze Coin Necklace' - $12,750.00 Three Stories Jewelry 'Single Long Love Explosion Starburst Charm' - $590.00 EF Collection 'Diamond Mini Huggie & Prong Set Chain Stud Earring' - $850.00 Wove Made x Michelle Wie West 'Custom Diamond Tennis Bracelet’ - $5,680.00 (starting) Lizzie Mandler 'Three Row Cleo Bracelet' - $18,300.00 Howl Jewelry 'Ruby Cocoon Ring' - $4,800.00 Retrouvai 'Cushion Ruby Impetus Interlocking Puzzle Ring' - $29,100.00 Louis Vuitton 'Side Trunk Bag' - $3,950.00 Grlfrnd 'Whitney Shorts' - $115.00 Giuseppe Zanotti 'Frannie Boots' - $1,650.00

Touchdown - she’s back. Many wondered how Taylor’s style playbook would shift (if at all) for “National Sportsball Observation”: Season Two. You might recall that during her “rookie” season, Taylor’s opening outfit was, as we’re calling it now, demure. A simple, lace-trimmed white cotton tank to + denim shorts + sneakers + a Chiefs jacket she picked up at the Arrowhead pro shop. As a way of testing the waters in a completely new setting, it was a lowkey, casual entrypoint into a very headline-exploding relationship launch. As we saw her continue to show up to games, her clothing choices became bolder. Bigger jackets, taller heels, tighter bustiers, cheekier cut denim. It all signalled a growing confidence in herself — and her relationship. 

When you makeout on the field at the Superbowl, there’s no going back to demure. This denim on denim moment is obviously sexy, and yet entirely familiar to where we last left off with Taylor’s game day fashion thanks to some repeat silhouettes. Which in my opinion makes this an extremely well executed strategic start to her season - and a hot and spicy one to boot!

Bustiers: Bustiers + corsets have become TTPD’s “signature” item. She wore plenty to previous Chiefs games last year. You might even recognize this exact one because she wore it in black the night she ‘killahardlaunched’ her relationship with Travis when they were photographed leaving Saturday Night Live in October 2023. 

Jewelry Stacking: Another era-specific signature that became key over the course of TTPD. Taylor became comfortable heavily layering larger, statement pieces of jewelry over the last few years. 

Denim: Taylor wore a lot of denim last year (like the distressed Ksubis from her first game and a crystallised Area pair at the NY game). But to go denim on denim feels like a pointed “painting the town blue” democratic signal to me. 

Boots: Thigh high boots by Louboutin and Larroude were incorporated into her game day style through the winter games.  

As an aside, this particular cut and fabrication of bustier is giving me flashbacks to her 2023 MTV VMA after-party look, which was by EB Denim. Given the 2024 VMAs are next week, I can’t get over the genius use of slideshowing.

As we saw throughout Taylor’s game day fashion playbook last year, she would often employ sentimental pieces through her jewelry. Items that were named for certain goddesses, or that were adorned with a certain jersey number. It was a subtle way of bejeweling a little bit of romance into her outfit.

The ‘Long Love’ name feels both appropriate to the circumstances for why she’s at the game and it also sounds a lot like her own song “Long Live”.

For her Retrouvai piece, the brand notes that it is from their “Impetus collection” which includes a lot of puzzle motifs that they say “represent that we are each individually part of a much larger picture. The force behind this collection was thinking about the idea of purpose and drive.” Love that!

As a repeat, Taylor also rewore her 'TNT' bracelet - a custom gift to her from Travis she wore when the Chiefs won the 2023 AFC Division game against the Ravens back in January. What a full circle moment to reference as they kick off the 2024-2025 season.

Just this past summer, FFR launched a curated collection of unsigned, one-of-a-kind vintage pieces exclusive to Bergdorfs. The pieces range from the 1940s through to the 1980s.

Upon launch, FFR founder Randi Molofsky told National Jeweler, “I think the idea of vintage is in the zeitgeist, and clients are actively seeking out jewelry that has stood the test of time.”

It’s not surprising to me that Taylor would gravitate towards a stunning vintage piece like this. She’s long loved vintage fashion since she began to incorporate it into her wardrobe around the Speak Now era and really leaned into the aesthetic in the RED era. Just last summer, she acquired a vintage Cartier necklace she wore often that was valued at just above $27,000.

I reached out to Randi Molofsky directly who told me a bit of history with this special one-of-a-kind vintage piece. “This one-of-a-kind vintage necklace is the ultimate in sexy 1970s style — it’s bold and powerful and makes a real statement,” said Molofsky. “In the ‘70s, oversized medallions and chunky chains had a major moment — heavily influenced by the disco movement and Italian resort style — and that look is having a resurgence now. I love that Taylor chose vintage for this moment not only because is it good for the planet, but because these pieces have lived lives before us and they will still be treasured for generations to come.”

Taylor often will wear a lot of red-tinged jewelry to her Chiefs games as an obvious nod to their team colours which makes the Howl ruby ring make total sense here. But a part of me can’t help but smirk at the ‘three row’ bracelet and wonder if it’s an optimistic fingers crossed moment for a Chiefs Super Bowl threepeat (they won the big trophy in consecutive years in 2023 and 2024).

Lastly - those 'girlfriend' shorts? Girl, please.

Photo by David Eulitt via Getty Images

[ilsanslut]

꒷♡꒷ THE DUKE'S PET!

♰ featuring: wriothesley. [genshin impact]

sypnosis: what you get from being wriothesley’s pretty puppy. content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut mentons. PUPPY-HYBRID!READER. GENDER NEUTRAL!READER. spanking. shoe-humping mentions. cock-warming. orgasm denial. dacryphilia. overstimulation. obvious pet-play themes. name calling/degradation. punishments. tummy bulging. sharing mentions (clorinde + neuvillette). ꒷꒦

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S PET INCLUDES being given to him by none other than the iudex of fontaine himself, neuvillette, as a “gift” of sorts. more so, you were a prisoner who personally denied your trial since you knew you were guilty, so neuvillette thought of a fitting place for you instead. he knew that wriothesley wanted a pet to keep him company while within the walls of the fortress of meropide, but he refrained due to it being cruel to keep an animal somewhere in which they could never see the sun. however, a puppy-human hybrid should suffice well enough, right?

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S PET INCLUDES him not knowing what the fuck to do with you once he first got you. he understood how to take care of a dog well enough, but you were mostly human and had greater intelligence than that of a dog (most of the time). he seemed a little put-off by you at first, tensing up when you came to him for pets and affection, picking you up by the armpits (even if you were taller than him) and sitting you down on the couch of his office when you tried to smother kisses all over his face, pulling you by the back of your shirt while hissing a quick “quit it” every time you growled at someone who entered his office—even his guards, and even those times when you tried to mark his office as your territory . . .

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S PET INCLUDES him taking his sweet time to warm up to you, but once he grew comfortable with your presence, you became the most spoiled pup around. he got you your own pretty collar, but of course, in his own aesthetic. a thick, studded black strap with ruby gems and a silver loop in the center connecting to a crimson pendant ringed in silver, with his initials engraved on the back. he bought you your own toys (even though you were more inclined to gnaw your sharp canines on the steel of his boots), and he even purchased a separate couch for you in his office for your afternoon naps with your name engraved on the gold that lined the backrest.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S PET INCLUDES going to the surface world with him any time he has a particular errand to run or just when he has free time. (he most definitely does that thing where he says a simple phrase like “outside?” or “walkies?” and has to restrain himself from cackling as he watches you go beserk in your own excitement.) hours are spent in the city of fontaine shopping for new items for you, such as clothes, toys, collars, etc. your days typically end with him allowing you to expend the rest of your energy chasing squirrels or birds in the fontainian wilderness until you eventually tucker yourself out and he carries you back to the fortress.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S PET INCLUDES being his little (or big) lap dog whenever he’s sitting in his office. whether he’s in the middle of signing off on a boatload of documents or talking with someone who entered his office, you’d shuffle your way into his folded arms and perch yourself on his lap, nuzzling yourself against his chest. he was never one to deny you affection (unless you were bad) and would always indulge in praising you whenever he deemed fit. scratches behind your ears, on your belly, gentle kisses to the forehead—you name it! wriothesley would give it all to you since he just couldn’t say no to you. that is, until he was forced to.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S PET INCLUDES him forgetting that while you are human, you still have the high-energy canine instincts of whatever breed you’re mixed with. that means you often get yourself into trouble more than you’d like. dashing over to others to steal their food at the coupon cafeteria because it smelled soo yummy, growling and picking fights with either the inmates or the guards who were simply minding their business, chewing on wriothesley’s boots, bookshelf, and the wood of his desk because you were bored, humping his leg or whatever you could get your needy parts on whenever your heat rolls around, and finally, his last straw, you tearing up the important documents and registration papers of the inmates because you were fed up with his silent treatment punishment.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S PET INCLUDES includes cowering and whining in fear when you see him towering over you, a steely glare in his eyes, and a deep scowl on his face as his chest rises and falls heavily from this thoroughly wasted patience. his fists would clench so tightly by his sides that you could hear them grinding against the leather of his gloves and the metal of his rings. you would give him your best puppy eyes and cutest whimpers to try and appease his anger, but it was futile. then he would utter the words that always sent a chill down your spine.

“bedroom, now.”

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES you shaking your head at him and whimpering out a ‘no’ when he orders you to his quarters. at first, he’s dumbfounded—stunned that you would even dare to disobey him when he had given you a clear, firm order—and then he’s laughing. it’s dry and humorless, and it strikes fear in the depths of your trembling little being. however, before you could react, his hand is threading itself non-too-kindly into your locks and dragging you along the steel floors of his office until you’re in your shared bedroom.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES knowing that he’s not a fan of verbal reprimanding. when he needed to correct your behavior, he was always physical. he wastes no time sitting on the edge of the bed and discarding whatever bottoms you were wearing before slinging you over his lap and popping a series of quick swats onto your ass cheeks, ringed-fingers and all. if you dared to try and use your fluffy tail to negate his hits, he was snatching it in a firm grip at the base and snarling out a bone-chilling “behave” before he would rain down more spanks onto your reddening cheeks until you’re a sniffling mess in his lap.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES you being unable to hide the arousal brewing from your nethers from being punished on wriothesley’s lap, accidentally giving yourself away when you shift on his lap, and the lewd squelch of your arousal squishing from your sex and his thigh is picked up by his stupidly good hearing.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES feeling your nethers throbbing when he utters out a “oh?” in that breathy growl that makes your head spin. “whats this?” he would inquire as he scoops up the milky fluid with two of his digits, not waiting for your pitiful answer as he uses the liquid as lube to stroke your sex with a teasing touch. “getting off on being punished?” he continues through your whimpers as your legs flail behind you from his increasing pace. “what a filthy mutt you are.”

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES being edged until the depths of the sea grew dark from the long set sun and illuminated from the moon hanging high in the sky. you’d be brought to the brink of your orgasm time and time again; however, every time you were about to reach your high, wriothesley would pull away, mocking your frustrated whines and begging whimpers with a faux pout of his own. “aww, my poor baby.” he would pout in an insincere tone, using his drenched fingers to wipe the tears streaming down your cheeks. “you wanna cum, don’t you?” he’d ask, with his free hand gently stroking your sensitive sex. you would nod, babbling pleas and helpless cries for him to ‘please, please, let you cum because you’ll be a good pup for him’, only for him to grin cruelly down at you and go, “if you wanted to be good for me, you would’ve been so from the beginning. crazy how that works, hm?”

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES when he finally does let you cum, he doesn’t let you stop. you’re gifted orgasm after orgasm until the sheets are ruined with your release, your poor body is trembling uncontrollably, your nethers are throbbing, and even the slightest breeze makes you wail from the overstimulation. you cry and cry and plead for him to be gentler with you, to please give you a break to let you catch your breath, but he only cackles at your misfortune and goes, “this is what you wanted, isn’t it? to make a mess like the filthy pup you are? so then take it, Y/N.”

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES always being gifted with the best aftercare, no matter how tired wriothesley might be. he’ll whisper sweet nothings into your ear as he gently massages your sore limbs and nethers, praising you for being such a good pup for him. moreover, he’ll even state that he’s no longer mad at you just to see your pretty ears perk up and your fluffy tail wag. even when he’s pushed past the point of exhaustion, he’ll stagger into the bathroom, run a warm bath for the two of you, and carry your quivering body into the soothing waters. before he joins you, he always discards the messy sheets and replaces them with new ones, but not before letting them run in the dryer for a few minutes so that they’re nice and toasty for you.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES being his number one stress reliever whenever he needs to relieve some tension. you could be sitting docilely on the couch he brought you by yourself in his office, and he could just scoot his chair back while tossing his head back with a mighty sigh, and you would already know what to do. you’d prance over to him, and he would remove whatever lower garments you were wearing and dive right into you, feasting on you in your entirety until he was thoroughly relieved. if he was having a particularly rough day, he would call your name in a gruff tone and pat his lap to call you over. he would have you sit on his lap with his cock nestled deep in your walls, squeezing him so, so tightly as he tries to finish his paperwork, but he never can. nine times out of ten, it always ends with him tossing his paperwork aside, picking you up, and ravishing you right then and there on his desk.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES the amount of times guards and inmates have had to stutter over their words as they try to talk to or give reports to the duke, however, becoming thoroughly distracted by the sight of your pretty mouth swallowing inch after inch of wriothesley’s cock beneath his desk since you couldn't 'shut the fuck up and stop growling’ at the poor men and women who were just trying to do their jobs.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES servicing wriothesley’s friends whenever they visit the fortress. clorinde attaching a leather leash to your collar as she perches herself on the edge of wriothesley’s desk, using the lead to pull your kneeling form close to her pretty folds to eat her out while she makes your head dizzy as she praises and degrades you simultaneously. “what a well-trained pooch you have here, duke . . . such a pathetic, needy thing they are. i might just have to borrow them for myself sometime.” to which wriothesley, who was watching from over her shoulder with a possessive and lustful gaze in his eye, just shakes his head as he observes your lithe, sloppy, and greedy tongue eagerly lapping at the duelist’s glimmering pearl while your tail wags incessantly behind you. “nah, not a chance. they’re mine, clorinde.”

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES even letting neuvillette in on the fun every once in a while. naturally, he brought you along for the ride when he had to personally meet with the iudex to discuss some business matters. neuvillette was amazed at how well his plan had worked when he saw how well-behaved and obedient you were, especially considering how you had been at first, when he had to hold you at arm's length away from him by your scruff to prevent your pointy puppy teeth from gnawing into his arms. he too would indulge in you by clearing his desk of all paperwork and fucking you right then and there on top of the expensive oak. when he told you to bark, you would. when he told you to sit on his cock, you would ride him within an inch of his sovereign life. when he told you to cum, you would not hesitate to gush all over him and yourself, effectively making a mess of both of your sweaty bodies. “such an obedient little thing. i am almost saddened that i gifted you to wriothesley and did not keep such a pretty puppy for myself.” he would growl, his slitted pupils constricting to pinpoints as they observed the way his two draconic cocks bulged your tummy.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S CHERISHED PET INCLUDES living out the rest of your days by his side as arguably the most spoiled and loved pup in the entirety of teyvat. you became his light in the darkness—his salvation from the perpetual state of solemn loneliness that he had isolated himself in, while he became your salvation in a surprisingly cruel world. you have never felt safer or more secure in your life than you did when you were with him. when he held you tenderly and whispered affirmations into your fluffy ears, you felt more loved than you had ever felt before. all in all, he was your second half, and you were his, and he’d be damned if he let anything change that any time soon.

ⓒ vampiie 2024 — all rights reserved. please do not repost my work outside of tumblr, modify, or translate my work in any form/means. please do not share my work to tiktok or any other site.

[zara-renata]

How you learned to stop worrying and embrace Sylus Qin | ao3 | the Sylus series

Summary: Sylus reveals his latest little plot and makes you an offer that you ultimately can't refuse. More lying around talking in different beds with Sylus Qin.

Notes: Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x mc, second person POV We've moved past the enemies part of enemies to friends to lovers, now we're into slow-burn friends-to-lovers territory This story contains: as the summary says, lying around and talking in a bed, and then not on a bed, boundary crossing typical of Sylus, which means you ultimately consent but he still should have talked to you first, but in his defense he pulled this bullshit before your Q&A with him, an mc with self esteem issues, sexual tension, profanity, mentions of being physically and mentally unwell.

As you lie on your side with Sylus in his sprawling, unlikely greenhouse, feeling his heart beating steadily under your hand and his soft breath against your chest, you’re tempted to stay like this for as long as he'll allow. To just call in sick and rest here until he gets bored and kicks you out. In this pocket of space-time that is just yours, shared with the person who is quickly becoming your most favorite creature in the universe. But you’re responsible. And needed. You can’t leave your team in a lurch, especially if Xavier is still away on one of his secretive little forays to who-knows-where, doing who-knows-what.

You sigh and can’t help yourself as you lean in a little and breathe in the scent of Sylus’s soft hair. Warmth, and that faint undercurrent of oranges that you now know comes from his shower products. Bright and tart. Just like him.

“You can use my shampoo, if you like it so much,” he murmurs, shifting a little until his cheek is resting against your chest over your heart. His stubble is a cat’s tongue along your skin above the edge of your tank top.

“How generous,” you smile, hating the idea that you need to get up and somehow get home. You have no idea what time it is, or even what day it is at this point. You think Sunday, maybe?

“Why so surprised? You should know at least that much about me, by now,” he grumbles.

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry. How could I forget, with your insistence on sharing so many things with me, even if such things were unasked for, or even dare I say, unwanted.”

“I like to anticipate your needs,” he says smugly. “And sometimes you don’t even know what you want until it's given it to you.”

“Yes, like blood in my foyer, feathers in my bed, and intense embarrassment during your business meetings.”

He lifts his head and looks up into your face. “What about an earring that you stopped wearing?” he asks, eyes shifting to the now empty piercing in the same ear in which you wore his ruby for a little while, before you thought he was dreaming about someone else.

You hate thinking about it, now. You had changed his name in your phone, and taken the ruby stud out of your ear and left it hidden in a bathroom drawer. It seems so silly, and petty now. A sad little attempt at controlling something in your life, when you couldn’t control your feelings, or his. As if by removing evidence of his gift, you could remove the sting of rejection. You don’t know how to answer him, because you don’t want to explain why you stopped wearing it. It doesn’t matter now. Now he’s your friend, and he has promised not to hurt you again in the ways that matter. So what, if he has romantic feelings for someone else? Him, here with you now—that’s enough for you, for now.

“And the pistol I engraved for you. You were strapped with it tonight, but you haven’t used it since I gave it to you.”

This, you don’t want to talk about either. The gun he gave you is beautiful. But you still can’t stand the sound of a gunshot so loud in your ears. It’s also probably illegal, and not something you can use during your official hunter duties if it’s unregistered or modified against regulations. You look away, letting your gaze wander to the plants spreading beyond the tiled clearing where you lie in the swinging garden bed, as if in some fairy tale or cheesy romance novel.

“How do you get all these plants to grow, since the N109 Zone doesn’t experience sunlight? The torches along the paths can’t be enough to sustain this much vegetation,” you ask, hoping he’ll let his current line of questioning die.

He’s quiet for a moment, and you can feel the weight of his stare on your face. “When I’m not here, there are grow lamps programmed to activate in an imitation of the day-night cycle of the natural habitat of the plants in this part of the greenhouse. I deactivate the system when I come in here, because the lights… are not pleasant for me.” He pauses and squeezes your hand. “There are smaller partitions within the main greenhouse to accommodate the plants that can’t handle the level of light, heat and humidity out here. Spend some time exploring, if you’re curious about this area of the base.”

You wonder if you’ll have the time anytime soon, to come back and take him up on his offer. Now that you know—to a certain extent—what was going on in his head during the first few days you spent in his base, and now that he has promised that he won’t ever pull that bullshit again, you are willing to try to see if you can be in his house without being on the verge of a heart attack. It’s only fair, if you’re going to be friends, that you visit him instead of him always having to come into Linkon City, with its bright sunshine and his wanted posters plastered in every administrative building. Even if they don’t feature his stupidly handsome face. Maybe spending time here, in this place that is so different from the rest of the sprawling house, would be a good start. But you have no idea when you’ll be able to make it back here again.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer, someday.” You fall quiet, and the only sounds are the water rippling from the soft flow of the fountain and the call of birds high up in the foliage.

Just as you think you’ve successfully derailed Sylus’s line of questioning, he picks it up again. “If you don’t want to answer my questions, you can just say so.” He sits up on his elbow so that he can lean over you and your hand falls away from his heart, but it’s still shackled to his wrist by the evol linkage. His hand falls with yours. “But if you’d like to tell me, and just don’t know how to say the words, we can play a game.”

You tense. “What kind of game?”

“The kind where I ask you specific questions, and if I ask them in a way that makes you feel like you can answer, then I win.”

“And what do you win?” You’re intrigued, despite yourself. You notice the tie keeping his dark, silk pants tied around his waist has loosened a little. Without thinking, you reach out and gently pull one of the ends between your fingers, just to have something to do with your hand. Your knuckles brush against his firm abdomen, and the soft silver hair there. His muscles underneath your touch shudder and contract as he sucks in a sharp breath.

“As enjoyable as that might be, that’s not what I want to win from this game,” he says softly, covering your hand in his and guiding it away from the waistband of his pants.

Realizing what it just looked like you were implying, you try to jerk your hand out of his like it’s on fire, but he holds it tightly. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking, that’s not what I—”

“I’m not interested in hearing apologies from you.” His eyes search yours. “Ever.”

All you can do is stare at him, because once again, you feel like he’s trying to tell you something in code and you just don’t have the key to decipher it. “But what if I do something that hurts you?”

“You will never be able to hurt me in a way that warrants an apology.” You open your mouth to protest, but he continues. “If you’re that worried about it, let’s make a deal. If I ever want to hear you say sorry, I’ll ask you for it.”

You feel like he just steamrolled you and normally you'd keep bickering with him, but you honestly do not have the capacity to spar with him on this point tonight. So you just nod.

He deigns to accept your agreement with a little haughty sniff, as if he can’t believe he had to review with you how invincible he is to anything you could do to him. “And to answer your original question, I win your honest answer,” he says, running his thumb along the back of your hand—you’re starting to wonder if such contact is to soothe you, or himself. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, still embarrassed despite his reassurance and trying to remember what the hell you were even talking about before you groped his clothing. “And if you don’t manage to ask the right questions?”

“Then you don’t have to answer, and can keep your secrets until you’re ready to play again.”

“This is not a very interesting game for you,” you groan, rolling away from him, but he keeps hold of your hand, so your arm is now pulled awkwardly behind you as you face away from him. He can keep the damn thing.

“That’s rather bold of you, kitten. Even you don’t get to decide what’s interesting to me.”

You look over your shoulder at him and scowl.

“Oh, I’ll keep going to keep that look on your face,” he taunts. “What, are you mad that only I get to decide what I find interesting?”

You roll back over so he can’t collect his reward from your face, and he just laughs softly behind you.

Do you want to talk about the earring? No. You’re going to help him win over his crush, and then you’ll keep the little ruby in the same way you’ll keep these memories of him: cherished, safe, and hidden in a drawer for when you want to remind yourself that you were able to live this dream, for a little while.

But you don’t want him to think you don’t appreciate the earring, or the gun. “Fine. I’ll play this guessing game with you. But not right now, please. I’m so tired, and I need to get going.”

“How about you stay with me instead.” It’s phrased like a question, but his tone sounds like a command.

“What? I can’t. I told you, I have to work. Do you think I could borrow one of your vehicles to get back home tonight?” You look longingly at the plants through the gauzy drapes, not looking forward to a cold, dark drive home.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” 

“Like what day it is? Yeah, I think that’s just one of many things I’m forgetting.”

In response, he just leisurely lifts your linked wrists. 

You roll over yet again, facing him, and groan.

“Make that noise again,” he teases, lightly cuffing your wrist with his thumb and forefinger.

You ignore him. “Fuck, we really need to figure out how to sever the link at will, instead of just… waiting to fall asleep. Which seems to be the only thing that releases the damn thing.”

“Do we?” He pulls your hand up so he can rest his full lips against your knuckles.

You absolutely refuse to let him distract you this time. This is your job. This is your life. “Don’t you find it inconvenient every single time this happens? Surely there are better things you want to do.” 

“Are there?” he murmurs into your skin.

“Take this seriously, please!”

“Am I not?”

You have the urge to kick him off the bed, but with the linkage, you’d just go over the edge with him. Normally you might be that petty and willing to take the hit, but tonight you’re exhausted. What you need to do is focus on a solution. First, gathering intel. “What time is it? What day is it, even?”

Sylus sighs and lowers your linked hands to his pants pocket and slips his own hand inside, leaving your palm with nowhere to go but on his hip. You refuse to think about the solid warmth underneath the cool fabric, and how easy it would be to keep sliding your hand further down, and everything you would be able to feel along the way.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and you’re released from the torture. “It’s five in the morning. And it’s Sunday.”

You let out a breath of relief. It’s not in the middle of Sunday night like you feared. You must not have slept that long, before you woke up in Sylus’s bed. “Great, then all we have to do is take a nap, or I guess you just have to go to sleep as usual, and I’ll nap again. Then when the link is gone, can I borrow a vehicle to get back to Amnesia? I need to get my bike back.”

“What’s the rush?” Sylus asks, apparently uninterested in your efficient plan to get your life back on track before you head back to work. He scoots closer to you again, resting his head on the pile of pillows, linked wrist pulled up between the two of you near his face.

“There’s stuff I have to prep for, before a long work week. Laundry. Groceries. Watering the plants.”

“How are you going to work with your feet injured?”

You flex your toes, and yeah, your feet sting from the cuts, but you’ve worked through much worse injuries. The key is just to keep the bandages clean and regularly changed. “I’ve had worse. It’ll be fine.”

Sylus sighs again. “You really shouldn’t be working if you’re injured at all, kitten.”

“It’s really fine.”

“It’s really not.”

You’re starting to get annoyed. “Okay, I appreciate that you’re trying to express your concern for me, but it’s not up to you whether or not I’m fit for work. It’s up to my boss. And she’s fine with me working like this too.” You try to soften your voice, because despite your irritation, you can recognize that he’s trying to look out for you. And unlike this guy, you’re nice. “So thank you, really. But it’s my fault I’m hurt in the first place, and I’ll deal with it.”

“Mmm, must suck being wrong not just once, but three times in the span of ten minutes,” he rewards your attempted kindness with a taunt. 

You again resist the urge to kick him off the bed, because you’re trying to be fucking nice here. You narrow your eyes instead. “Oh, I didn’t know I was in the presence of ye mighty, all-knowing master of truth,” you snark.

“Oh?” he perks up. “I like the sound of that. Does this ‘Master’ title also come with your obedience?” He sounds way too pleased at the thought.

Okay, that’s enough being nice. You draw up your knee and plant one leg on the bed while grabbing his forearm with your linked hand. You roll, jerking him with you fast enough that his momentum causes his body to roll on top of yours—for a moment, you experience what it’s like to have the full weight of his big body pressing you into the mattress, and it’s so overwhelming good that you almost pause to savor it, but you’re a fucking professional. You keep the momentum going by thrusting with your hips into a bridge and send him sailing over the edge of the bed. As he goes, you roll with him but plant one knee into the mattress to halt yourself before going over the edge. He ends up dumped over the side of the bed on his ass with a grunt, but you’re starfished on your stomach on the bed with just your linked arm hanging over the edge of the mattress. For a moment you’re worried about how hard the tiles are, and that you might have just hurt him, but then you picture his thick ass and reassure yourself that all that cake must have cushioned the fall. He’ll live. Right? Okay, now you want to pull him up and pat his butt… to soothe any pain, not because you just want to able to touch his—

Suddenly you’re yanked by your wrist from your position on the bed with a yelp, and despite scrabbling with your free hand to prevent your descent, you’re suddenly ungraciously sprawled across Sylus’s big chest, your legs straddling his lap as he sits supporting himself with his unlinked hand behind him.

You plant your hands on his chest and push yourself up, trying desperately not to squeeze his huge pecs like your hands are aching to do.

He looks at you smugly, but there is a pink flush creeping up his neck and cheeks. It must be because of how warm it is in here. “I’ll take that as a no,” he smiles, clearly pleased with himself for having dragged you down with him.

“That’s a no,” you scowl, pretending that you are completely unfazed by this position, by his big warm… lap underneath you, his soft skin and chest hair under your hands, his face so close to yours. This is an everyday experience for you. Straddling a big, half-naked, handsome warlord with your robe open, falling off your shoulders, pooling around the both of you.

You need to focus. You’re so focused right now. On getting home, not his big half-hard dick between your thighs. FUCK.

“I need to go home.” You breathe very slowly. Because you’re calm. You’re a block of ice. You will not melt into him. You will not think about why he is apparently afflicted with a partial boner. He seems untroubled by it, so you refuse to acknowledge it, even to yourself.

“You need to stay with me,” he counters, despite the scowl you’re still giving him. “Are you not even going to ask me what else you’re wrong about tonight?” he asks, tilting his head. His silky hair falls across his forehead.

You close your eyes. You’re focused. You’re learning that if you don’t answer Sylus’s questions the first time, he will simply keep asking until you do. You’re an ice sculpture. Ice sculptures are immovable, poised and out of reach. They don’t squirm in their friend’s lap, just to see if there will be a a bigger reaction—

“What else am I wrong about, Sylus?” you ask, eyes still closed against the dream spread out underneath you.

“Look at me,” the dream says. For some reason, you don’t hesitate and obey his command. His pupils are large in the low light of the torch-lit greenhouse, so his eyes are like the color of the most heady wine. “It’s my fault that you’re hurt, not yours. And technically, it’s up to Dr. Iceman to decide whether you’re fit to work or not, not your captain.”

Now, you do actually freeze, everything else forgotten. “Dr… Iceman?”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that only you can assign silly nicknames to people,” Sylus lifts his hand and taps you on the forehead, bringing your wrist up with his.

“What do you mean, it’s up to Zayne to decide whether I’m fit for work?” You suddenly have a very, very bad feeling.

He narrows his wine-dark eyes. “Zayne, is it? Not Dr. Li?” 

You just stare at him. It’s his turn to answer questions, now. 

“I noticed that you also have him listed as ‘Zayne’ in your phone,” he says as if he’s bored while admitting that he’s been nosing around in your phone again. “And what I mean is just what I said. It’s not your captain, but your primary care physician who signs your fitness for duty certificates. If ‘Zayne’ refuses to certify you as fit, you don’t have to go to work.” He emphasizes Zayne’s name, as if to underline what he thinks of you calling your childhood friend and doctor by his first name instead of his title. And what he thinks doesn’t sound entirely approving. Well tough shit, if you don’t get to determine what he finds interesting, he doesn’t get to judge what you call your friends. Even if Zayne doesn’t seem to think of you as friends anymore, you will always care for him and the little boy you knew all those years ago.

“Zayne hasn’t refused to sign any of my health certificates since he became my doctor, so I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation.” Thinking about Zayne, and how he treats you with such long-suffering coldness now, you suddenly don’t want to be on Sylus’s lap anymore. You sit back, letting your hand fall away from his chest. He breathes in sharply, and grabs your wrist to force you to sit still.

“Although he has failed in this regard up until now,” he says, voice dripping in disdain. “That’s no longer true, as of last night.”

You don’t need Sylus to hold you in place to keep you still now. Ice water courses through your veins.

“What the fuck does that mean, Sylus? This isn’t funny.”

He narrows his eyes at your cold tone. “Does it look like I’m laughing?”

“No, which is why you’re going to explain, right now, what the fuck you've done.”

“Your doctor has agreed that you should go on indefinite medical leave. Your captain has been informed, and agreed. As of tomorrow, you’re on sick leave until you're actually fit for duty again.”

You just stare at him. Mind empty, breath stopped, shoulders tensed to your ears.

“And it looks like you could really use it right about now.” Sylus gifts you with one of his subtle smiles and lets his hands drift up your shoulders, your shackled wrist going with his. He gently urges you to relax them by pressing down. “Stay with me, instead of going home tonight.”

“You don’t get to make this type of decision for me. How did you even pull this off? This is my job. This is my life. I have to go to work tomorrow.” You can’t seem to resist his gentle, firm press against your shoulders, despite how rigid you currently feel. You're a piano wire garrotte strung too tight, caught in a block of ice.

“It’s not your life, sweetheart,” he cups your shoulders in his big palms, stroking his thumbs along your skin. “It’s your calling, but it’s not your entire life. And again, you don’t have to go to work tomorrow.”

“Explain how this happened, Sylus.” You’re basically pleading with him, hoping that you’re wrong about what you now are almost certain he has done.

“You’ve already texted your doctor asking for medical leave.”

You flinch. “What?”

“And you should probably get your hearing checked while you’re on medical leave,” Sylus muses.

“Sylus!”

“Yes, the jewel in the crown of my heart?”

“What do you mean, I texted Zayne?” Your voice is strangely high in your ears.

“Exactly that. You texted him. While you were sleeping last night. You’re really a great multitasker, I’m impressed.” He widens his eyes as if to emphasize his admiration.

“You can’t do things like this, Sylus!” You put your uncuffed hand back on his chest and push, just a little, almost futilely. You don’t want to hurt him. You’re shocked that he crossed such a huge boundary before you woke up. He’s crossed so many boundaries before, but has never interfered with your work. Even so, you don’t want to cause him pain.

He lifts a hand from your shoulder and cradles your cheek in his big, warm palm. “I can do things like this. I already showed you when I was at your place that I can do things like this. And I did this because your calling is going to fucking kill you if you don’t take the time to recover, physically and emotionally, before you return to it. I did this, because you won't do it for yourself.”

“This wasn’t your call to make.” You’re an iceberg, adrift, thinking about an indefinite stretch of time before you, with nothing to do, just you alone with your thoughts. Because you know that you can’t undo whatever he has done. If Zayne has already agreed, and Jenna has been notified, what possible explanation can you give for showing up to work tomorrow that doesn't sound insane?

“It was a text, not a call,” the pedantic ass corrects you. “And sure, let's say it wasn't my call to make, for the sake of argument. But it is your doctor’s. And he fully supports you taking extended medical leave. It’s a good thing I asked him, because it’s clear from the way he almost didn’t believe that it was you asking that you’d never do this for yourself,” he says, shamelessly indignant that Zayne correctly didn’t initially believe that it was you making the request over text. 

“And he was right,” you bite out. “It wasn’t me asking.”  Despite your helpless anger at what he has done, you let yourself lean into his touch, lifting your hand to circle his wrist and just resting your cheek in his hand. “Why did you do this, when I wasn’t even injured yet? I was still asleep. My feet were fine. I was fine.”

“No matter how many times you repeat that, it isn’t going to suddenly be true.” He murmurs, seeming to sense your pliability. He pulls the arm you’re holding towards himself, as if he knows you’ll go with it, and his hand falls away from your cheek. Instead, he’s now encircling you, holding you against his chest with his free arm. “You haven’t been fine for a long time, sweetheart. It’s time for you to admit that.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” you whisper, resting your forehead against his shoulder, breathing in the warm scent of his skin. Something about the way he smells is so calming, despite how distraught you are at the weeks yawning ahead of you now, an abyss of time and memories you’ve barely been able to claw at the precipice of for all these long months.

“Have you not used the gun I gave you because the noise of a gunshot triggers flashbacks of the bombing?” he suddenly asks, holding you even tighter, caging you against him in case you try to pull away.

You stiffen, but instead of pulling away, you turn your head and bury your face in his neck. You can’t answer. He asked the perfect question—all you have to do is say yes. You want to say yes. You don’t want him to think you’re ungrateful for his beautiful gift, but the words won’t come. But you agreed to play this game. He asked the perfect question to allow you to easily answer.

You clench your teeth and nod, just a little.

“I win,” he gloats softly, smiling into your hair. “Thank you.”

You still can’t say anything, but you feel a strange sense of relief, like pulling off a bandage and seeing that the wound underneath has been healing nicely when you were afraid it might have been infected.

“You made a deal with me tonight. If you don’t want something from me, you promised to honestly tell me. I did this before we had that conversation, but you can still say no. I’m not going to keep you captive here, and force you to take time to focus on recovering from everything you’ve gone through this year.” He runs his fingers up and down your back, warm even through the cool silk of your robe. “But can you honestly tell me that you don’t want to stay here with me and just take a break? That you don’t want to take advantage of the medical leave to let your feet heal, and to spend some time away from the stress and risks of your everyday life? You can think of it as a well-deserved vacation.”

You lift your head, straightening a little to look into his earnest face. “You would want me to stay here?”

"Oh, my kitten's hearing is actually fine," he laughs softly. “I thought I made that clear, with the three times I asked you to stay with me.”

Once again, you’re struck by how little you understand this man, even after your long talk tonight. You know he doesn’t hate you now. That he has no intention to hurt you again. He seems to even like you, as a person, and not just as someone who will be useful as an ally someday, or as a guinea pig for trying out romantic gestures. Your mind drifts to your shampoo and conditioner in his shower, and that brief flash of hope that he may care for you as more than a tool. As a person. You remember in the shower, wondering if he may care for you as maybe more than just... you can't let your mind go there. But you can't help but think of him caressing your skin with his thumb, and wondering if he gained reassurance from it too. He told you to ask questions when you have them. So you do. “But why?”

His gaze drifts from your eyes, to your mouth. Then he looks away, seeming to leisurely take in the wild life all around you, eyes narrowed in thought. “I’m never bored when you’re around,” he says, the picture of casual.  He returns to looking at you, his lovely eyes searching yours.

Of course. You weren’t hoping for any other answer. That sudden weight in your stomach—it isn’t disappointment. You’re amusing, a sideshow: come one, come all, behold the strange deadly jester! You’re useful when maintained properly. That’s why he keeps showing up to spend time with you, and why he’d want you wandering around his base for weeks at a time. Your mind drifts back to Luke and Kieran showing you the psychology book about people who can have everything they want. How they enjoy a challenge. You’re just friends, after all. He’s just asking a friend in need to relax at his place, and in return he will get some amusement from it. Maybe he views you as a sniper rifle with broken components. A little side project, a fixer-upper. He probably has all sorts of people drifting around the place to satisfy his whims and need for entertainment. Not that you’ve ever seen anyone at the base besides Luke and Kieran, but you spent most of your time here previously in a locked room. What do you know? “You’re in that dire need of entertainment?”

“Not when you’re around,” he tugs gently on a lock of your hair. “So, will you accept my gift of a surprise holiday and stay with me?” 

You just stare at him, trying to sift through your feelings. Do you want to take a break, in a place far removed from your silent apartment, from your deadly job? Not that the N109 Zone isn’t deadly, but… Sylus will be close, and there will likely be other people in and out to give you some measure of relief from the thoughts in your head. Even though he’s inviting you to stay in a place you just tried desperately to escape, a place which still gives you anxiety when you think too hard about it. But this time will be different, right? He says he wants you here. As far as you can tell, he doesn’t want anything else from you besides dodgy dating advice, and for you to be around to entertain him once in a while when he isn’t preoccupied with business. The place is huge. He said he has a gym. And this greenhouse… you can spend all the time you want in here. Weren't you just thinking how nice it would be, if you could stay here until he tires of you, in your own little pocket universe of frozen time? There are worse ways to spend a convalescent leave. Your mind returns to the most appealing part—Sylus will be close.   

Apparently you’re taking too long to answer, because he tugs on your hair a little again. “Yes? No?—” you bring your hands up and cover his mouth before he can say “Maybe so,” because he apparently has limited lines at his disposal for being a little shit and you don’t want to hear this particular line from him again right now. He lifts an eyebrow, and suddenly you feel his warm tongue sliding wetly up your palm.

All at once you’re very aware, again, of how you’re sitting in his lap, with all of his bulk underneath you. That the soft warm skin and fur of his chest is under your forearms as you hold your hands to his plush lips. The feel of his tongue along your skin sends a jolt through you that takes you by such surprise that you rock against him with your hips, once, without even realizing that your body has simply moved on its own to get what it suddenly desperately wants. His tongue disappears from your palm but his breath hitches and he makes a low sound, deep in his throat.

You freeze and stare into his eyes. You don’t dare move, your palm still pressed against his full lips. You think you see a pink flush creeping up his cheeks beyond your hands, but again, it’s probably just because it’s so warm in the greenhouse.

This is just a dream, you tell yourself. His arm around you. This beautiful place, filled with thriving, living things. His hard warmth underneath you. He’s offering you a dream, for a little while. He’s inviting you into his world, as he invited you into sleep before, to help you rest, to refill your empty tank. Every weapon needs maintenance. Every tool has a breaking point if overused. You know, deep down, that he’s right about you not being fine. Maybe if you let him lull you into this dream for a little while, when you wake up you’ll be able to bear returning to the cold solitude of your useful life. You can hold the memory of this dream close to you, to warm you through the long years after he flies so far ahead of you that you’re unable to catch him. When whoever he loves begins flying by his side.

The thought of turning down his offer, and driving away from him right now, is suddenly excruciating. It won’t hurt anyone, taking a little bit of the comfort he so easily offers for yourself, right? His future lover won’t have to know about the tool he stored in his home, amidst all the other weapons in his arsenal, for just a little while. You’ll stay out of everyone’s way—no one will notice you here, and no one will notice when you’re gone.

You don’t think you deserve it, but you decide to be selfish. Just this once. The only person who will be hurt in the end is you. You’ll indulge in this little dream, just for a little while.

Suddenly you feel the slick of his tongue in your hand again. “Ith thith your anther?” Sylus asks from behind your palm. You careen back into the awareness of your body. You jerk your hands away and scramble off of him, landing on your ass on the pretty, colorful tiles.

As you go, you realize he isn’t coming with you. You look down at your wrist—the evol linkage has dissolved.

Sylus sits in the same position, leisurely sitting on the tiles next to the garden bed. He rubs his wrist with his other hand thoughtfully. “Is this your answer?” he repeats.

You take a deep breath. “Yes.” Just for a little while. You’ll take a little break. You’ll live the dream of going on dates with Sylus. Of being welcome in his house. Of not having to fight, every single day, just to survive. And since this is all just a dream anyway, you'll indulge in some of the things you'd never allow yourself while awake. You'll allow yourself the dream that each date is real. That each caress from his rough hands is meant for you, and only you. When he does finally get bored with you, you’ll go, and you’ll be grateful for the memories, each a little jewel that you'll tuck away in a safe place, to be taken out and admired when you're missing him and this bright, impossible dream the most.

"Why do you look so sad, if it's a yes?"

You try to steel your expression. "Sad? I'm not sad. Just—tired." That's not a complete lie. But Sylus shakes his head and gracefully gets to his feet. He offers you his hand. You just stare at it.

"New rule. You can lie to everyone else in your life, but not to me." He beckons you with his hand.

"Oh, I have to follow rules, but you don't?" You flick your gaze disdainfully from his hand to his face.

"My rules are always sensible. And I told you, give me a list of rules that make sense, and I'll follow them. I'm still waiting, for both the list, and for your hand." He motions with his hand again, this time impatiently. You just lean back, with all the time in the world now.

"Are you sad because you made the questionable fashion decision of leaving your ruby earring at home?"

The unexpected question startles a laugh out of you. "Yeah, Sylus. That's why I'm sad," you lie again. But your heart feels a little lighter at his obvious attempt to make you smile. You finally give in and take his offered hand, pulling yourself to your feet. The pain in your feet distracts you from any lingering pain in your chest. He must catch your wince, because you're swept into his arms again.

"Take mine," he says, turning his head to show you the stud that is still in his ear. You've been so distracted tonight that you didn't clock that he was still wearing it. "Until we retrieve yours from your home." He carries you back through the greenhouse, galoshes that he slipped back into before leaving the clearing crunching on the winding slate path.

You wonder why he's so insistent that you wear it, but also strangely touched that he is. "Okay. But I'm not taking that thing out of your ear while you're carrying me. And you really, really don't need to carry me until my feet are fully healed. This is one of those times I'm telling you no, I honestly don't need this from you. Okay?"

His only response is to hold you tighter and turn his head back towards you so he can run his nose briefly along your temple. "Fine," he says. "Starting tomorrow. For now, let's get some sleep. It's been a long night, and if you're going to be here with me, you need to align your sleep schedule with mine."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," he says. Efficient. Simple. With the utmost confidence. The essence of Sylus Qin.

"Okay," you sigh, relaxing into his arms. You'll take what he is offering, a gift to yourself, for just for a little while. You relish in the strength in his arms, the safety of his heartbeat against your body, the peace of having everything already decided without you having to do a thing. Just for a little while.

"Welcome to my world now, kitten," he says, his voice a purr of satisfaction, with a finality that sounds like a door slamming shut and the handle falling off, rolling leisurely, useless on the floor.

***

end notes: I promise that now that I've finished the exhaustive setup of addressing Sylus's main chapter in-game bullshit and the change of venue from Linkon City to the N109 Zone, more action will start happening! We have a tank! Sylus has a swimming pool and an armory! We will be getting a black card! We have a birthday party to attend! There are dates that must go sideways!