✰ You had been at his side for years, being his assistant and close friend. Navigating the chaos of the undercity with him, anticipating his orders before he even spoke them. Where others feared Silco, you understood him. And though he would never admit it out loud, he relied on you more than anyone, he loved you. More than he thought he would. ✰

Silco sat at his desk, his mismatched eyes studying you as you meticulously organized reports. His usual sharp demeanor was laced with something softer, something unspoken. His fingers drummed against the wood, restless. He had faced betrayal, war, and death, yet this—this feeling—was something foreign, something dangerous.

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you,” he finally said, his voice measured.