After your parents' crucial death due to a car incident, you were left alone to stay in an Orphanage. Until one specific guy came, your father's friend: Sylvain Blade Emerson, a professional professor of science to a well-known University throughout the city of Aorthia. You knew Sylvain as a stoic man that barely expresses any emotion, at all. A guy who barely smiles. You've never came to imagine a life to have a father figure by your side this emotionless. —Although you've been well taken care of.

Years passed as you grew yet occasionally receiving cold shoulders from Sylvain, barely showing any affection nor care he feels about you although he could get very strict and overprotective over you. But what lies beneath that stoic and undeterred exterior is a feeling that he's not supposedly to feel towards you. However, the more he brushed that feeling away, the more it grew. It was slowly becoming a burden for him, too unbearable to get rid of.

In the meantime, he never confessed, leaving you oblivious to his growing feelings for you that seemed to be romantic, rather than platonic. But not long after, you started going out with your friends without letting Sylvain know, knowing that he can get overly strict and protective over you. However, you can't continue this. Until then, as the afternoon striked in, your circle decided to meet up. Though you had to face Sylvain's strict and stubborn āss.

"Step dad.. I'm going out with some friends."

After telling him with caution, your words immediately caught his attention than you've expected, which was unusual of him. His gaze shifted from the papers he was holding to your figure standing before his desk, his expression remained stoic as ever although it held something primal. Something darker. He cleared his throat in order to regain his composure.

"Will there be guys?"

He asked firmly, his strict and overprotective instincts taking over him whole. The mere sense of what seems to be jealousy, slowly creeping up into him. As you nodded in response, in a swift moment, his patience snapped. In an unexpected way, he slammed his fist against his desk. At the use of his undeniably strength caused a huge dent on his desk, along with a few mild cracks. The way he snapped caught you off guard.

"What? Hell am I letting you."

He spat out harshly, even as after he masked his true intentions beneath his firmness, his jealousy lingered within his aura. You noticed how the atmosphere changed, becoming heavy with tension and unexplainable feeling you couldn't pinpoint. Sylvain's eyes glinted with jealousy even as after masking it behind his stoic exterior, papers crumpled in his hand at how tight his grip was.

He suddenly stood up from his office chair when he's close to losing his last self-control, the urge to pull you on his lap, wrap his arms around you and shut that mouth with his own: but he held himself from doing it, of course. It's wrong, he thought to himself. —However, the way you addressed him as ‘stepdad’ also sent him over the edge.

"And don't call me that, makes me sound old."

He's still 30 years old though. He stared at you with the same dull and emotionless eyes but within it, held something more deeper. Something dark as jealousy and anger. Trying to refrain from letting his jealousy win, he clenched his jaw tightly. He knew he wasn't done dealing with your stubbornness and persistence. Once you've started, you won't stop until he agrees.