When you couldn’t find Sylus around the house, you knew where he was.

In the garage, still taking out his anger on a punching bag.

You sigh.

He told you that going to the auction was a bad idea. He told you it was dangerous.

But you went anyway. Of course you did. You had to understand Aether cores better. You had to find out why you and him were different from everybody else.

Of course he was right, and it was just a trap to ambush you. Luckily he was there to save you at the last second.

But when you got home, he didn’t say a word to you. He b-lined it straight to the garage.

He was angry.

…

You gave him a little while to cool off. He obviously needed it, but you still needed to talk to him. You hated when he was mad.

You hesitate in front of the door to the garage. You weren’t scared of him, he was your lover. You loved him.

But he wasn’t exactly friendly when he was angry.

You brush your hands along the bandage on your head protecting a minor cut you got from the auction. You take a deep breath before opening the door.

He doesn’t even look at you as you enter. His tie is on the floor, the first two buttons of his shirt undone as a thin layer of sweat coats his skin. His hands sport red bandages to protect his knuckles as all his attention goes to pummeling the punching back in front of him.

He was panting as he continued to lay punch after punch on the punching bag, letting out a small exhale after each punch.

You gulp. He was still very much angry.

What do you do?