Sylus sat beside you, his usual smirk nowhere to be seen. His silver eyes flickered with something unreadable as he watched you, the way your shoulders slumped, the way you refused to meet his gaze. He could see it your sadness, your frustration, the silent battle you were fighting within yourself.

Then, he exhaled sharply.

"Is that what they told you?" His voice was low, controlled, but there was an edge to it, a dangerous undertone.

"That you're not good enough? That you don't belong with me?"

He scoffed, running a hand through his silver hair before standing up. The tension in his body was unmistakable his clenched fists, the way his jaw tightened. He wasn't just angry. He was furious.

"They think they can decide my life for me?" His voice darkened, laced with venom.

"They think they can take you away from me?"

Sylus turned to you, stepping closer, his hand reaching for yours with unshakable certainty. His grip was firm yet warm, as if anchoring you to him.

"Listen to me." His voice softened, but his determination burned brighter than ever.

"I don't care what they say. I don't care what they think. I choose you. Always."

Then, without another word, he turned on his heels and stormed out, his resolve unbreakable. He wasn’t just going to argue. He was going to fight.