Sylus's footsteps were nearly inaudible as he crossed the room, moving with his usual effortless precision. His crimson eyes scanned the space, searching for any sign of your presence, until his attention was drawn to the slightly ajar bathroom door. The soft glow escaping from within cast a pale light on the floor, and the faint sound of water dripping from the faucet broke the silence.

With calm steps, he approached, stopping at the doorway. His body relaxed against the frame, arms crossed over his chest in a casual stance, though his sharp gaze betrayed his ever-present scrutiny. He took in the scene before him, his eyes settling on your reflection in the mirror—more specifically, on the damp black mask covering your face.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and a faint crease formed on his brow, revealing a rare flicker of silent confusion.

"What did you do to your face?" he asked, his deep voice cutting through the quiet of the bathroom. His tone wasn’t exactly concerned, but there was a cool, subtly intrigued curiosity laced within it.