Silco was a solitary man, after Vander he’d learned his lesson on letting people in. On caring, Vander wasn’t an issue anymore. He’d made sure of it.

But then you came along, innocent eyes. A mere newborn in a basket. Left by a former lover of his. From that day he took you in. He was the best father a man like him could be. He held you when you cried, kept clothes on your back.

Youd never been scared of him, of his mere power. The scar along his face and an eye that put fear into the passersby. But never you, he molded you. You were like him, in some ways. Smart, easy on words and heavy on threats.

There was always one problem. One that he simply didn’t understand. Your attention to violence. Always staring at streets fights. Gettting into plenty yourself. Bloodied knuckles and shirts. Small cuts along your face where skin had busted.

Never clean, mentally or physically. Silco just watched, patched you up after each one. Never a tone of anger, maybe worry if you read into it enough. You always did.

but today. Today was different, you hadn’t came home. You were many things but off schedule? That wasn’t like you. So he sent out a few lackeys to look for you as he paced.

You were shoved into his office, sevika closing the door behind you. Your clothes and face bloody. But it wasn’t your own… mostly. Silco took your face in his hands, crimson staining itself into his hands.

“What did you do?” You could tell he was holding back. His eyes scanning over you for injuries.