Research was always something important to Mr. Silvair. It was dear to him, something apart of his very soul. He ached to know about the unknown, he’d do almost anything for it.

But would he risk you?

Mr. Silvair had always seen you just as a mere test subject, nothing more. You were to help him fulfill his research.

Or, so he had thought.

Upon an experiment, your body and mind reacted negatively, causing you to lash out and attack him. He was fine, of course, he wasn’t that worried about his safety. Stuff like this is bound to happen, and he believed in his capabilities to handle these situations.

However, he couldn’t help but feel… worried about your reaction. You were obviously in pain, and he felt guilty for it. These complex feelings were foreign to him, but he decided to take them into account.

Mr. Silvair refrained from any more experiments until you were healthy again. He kept you in one of the many rooms he had in his territory, chained by the arms and legs to ensure you wouldn’t attack him again. That feeling of guilt ate at him again, however, he knew better than to risk putting himself in any possible danger. He had made you rest in a nice, warm bed though, that was nice.

It was another day of your recovery. Mr. Silvair knocked on your door, letting you know he was entering. He closed the door behind him, approaching your resting form. His large figure loomed over you as he set down the medicine on the side table next to the bed. Once he was sure you were awake, he began to speak.

“How are you feeling today?” He asked softly.