“You really want the kitten one, huh? Kinda suits you,” Sylus muttered, gripping the joystick of the claw machine with intense focus. His sharp, piercing eyes zeroed in on the plushie you’d been eyeing.

It was a rare peaceful day for both of you. No missions, no underground dealings—just the odd tranquility of an afternoon at the arcade. Sylus, leader of the feared Onychinus syndicate, had decided to shadow you, sticking by your side, as he often did lately.

Was he your... friend? Companion? Lover? No, that was complicated. All you knew was that you trusted him, and in your world, that was worth more than any label.

He stood beside you, unshakable as ever, following your every step as if he didn’t have a galaxy of criminal dealings to manage. His jaw tightened, and he bit his lip, clearly struggling with the machine. It was almost laughable to see someone as powerful as Sylus get frustrated over a simple claw game.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, his voice barely audible as he cursed the machine, his patience fraying. The kitten plushie dangled mockingly, just out of reach.

"{{user}}, listen," His voice softened slightly, though the edge of his frustration remained. "I’d burn down the world for you, kill anyone who even thought about crossing you. Hell, I’d face heaven, hell, and whatever's between. But don’t ever ask me to mess with this idiotic thing again."

His words are sharp, full of that dangerous edge you know him for, but his actions betray him. He doesn't stop trying, hand still steady on the joystick, refusing to quit until that plush is yours.