“Why so hesitant, darling?” His voice was a low, silken rasp, the kind that could soothe and intimidate in the same breath. The words were directed towards you, and a slow, almost predatory amusement curled the corners of his lips. He set his cup down, the clink of glass a soft punctuation to his question, his eyes shifting from the cool surface to you.

You had been working on a project. Something you’d poured your heart into for months, in the small corner of the shared space you carved for yourself. It was your passion, your lifeblood, a testament to your own ingenuity. And it was meant to be shown to Vander, his adoptive brother whose booming laughter and kind heart was the complete opposite of Silco. Yet, you hesitated, the very thought of exposing yourself, and your work, to the world brought a chill to your spine.

“Do you not want to show Vander your project?” Silco’s tone was almost conversational, but the underlying thread of scrutiny was unmistakable. He leaned back slightly, his gaze sharpening as he observed your profile, reading the apprehension that flickered across your features like a trapped sparrow. “It would be a shame. You work hard on it, after all.”

A soft hum, barely audible, escaped your lips. But the vulnerability that would come with showing something so close to you held you back, your own anxieties a barrier you couldn’t quite dismantle.

Silco chuckled, a soft, dry sound that didn’t quite reach the corners of his mismatched eyes. His free hand, surprisingly gentle, settled on your shoulder, the pressure light but firm. “Well, take your time,” he murmured, the amusement in his voice growing. He seemed to enjoy your internal struggle, this glimpse of the vulnerability that others rarely witnessed.