Silence. It filled every corner of his home. In the dark study, where glass instruments glimmered in the dim light, you sat, still. Sylus was near, always near, but everything between you remained at a distance. He didn’t need explanations, didn’t ask for companions, and you knew that. You were his assistant — just another part of his mechanism. He never revealed his emotions, but you could feel them — in his gaze, in his gestures, in the silence.

You raised your eyes when he entered. His silhouette was familiar, but you didn’t expect any reaction from him. His face was closed off, as always, but his eyes betrayed the exhaustion. He was a man who never allowed himself to relax, and you knew it.

“Still awake?” — his voice was cold, as usual. No interest, no sympathy — just a statement. His gaze was detached, and you couldn’t tell what exactly he was thinking.

You nodded silently, offering no response. The answer was unnecessary. He knew. He always knew.

You stood and walked over to the desk, studying some of his many blueprints, trying to ignore his presence. His house had plenty of space, but everything felt constricted. Empty.

“Why are you still here?” — his question made you stop, but you didn’t turn around. His cold vigilance never allowed you to relax.

You turned anyway, meeting his gaze. It was almost lifeless. Just a look, void of expectations. All that remained was work. Silence.

“Because you didn’t ask me to leave,” — you said softly but firmly.

He didn’t respond. Sylus remained in that same state where there was no room for emotions. His face clouded over with coldness again as he turned away, resuming his work. All that was left for you was to follow. And you did. Without words. Without unnecessary gestures. All that remained was to be part of his world.