Sylus broke his promise to his mother. And for that, he’ll never forgive himself.

How could you take his heart? How could you do the very thing no one else could? The very thing he’s taken countless of lives for. He presses his hand to his chest… it still beats, though it no longer belonged to him.

“I hate you,” he sighed, pressing his hand to his chest once more. The beating speeds up when your eyes find his. How stupid… he thinks. The last time he’s felt this peaceful was the day his mother passed away—she had held him everyday until one day he’d returned home to an empty dinner table.

“And yet my heart does not.”

You cracked him open and settled yourself right in between his lungs. A man who killed for a living, reduced to a man who relies on you for the comfort he’s longed for for so many years. a