pairing: Sylus x reader
description: you're sick and sylus takes care of you
author's note: here is a drabble because lord help me i cannot come up with a plot for raising the stakes part 3
You're irritable, tired, and achy, but have somehow made the trek from your bedroom to his.
When Sylus notices you leaning against his doorway, he puts his book down beside him on the mattress.
“Come here, kitten,” he calls to you.
You don't move. “I don’t want to get you sick too.”
“I’ll be fine, sweetie,” he says, reclining onto the headboard and patting his thigh, “Come here.”
You pull the door closed behind you and move through the room, body aching and head pounding every step of the way. With what remaining energy you have left, you curl into Sylus' lap, resting your head against his thigh. It’s hard muscle, but somehow more comfortable than a pillow.
“I feel awful,” you say, eyes fluttering closed as Sylus begins to stroke your hair, pulling it back and away from your feverish face.
“I know, sweetie,” he says, “You’re doing so good right now.”
“I’m not doing anything,” you say, “Except feeling miserable.”
“You’ve been resting, and now you’ve come to me, easing the burden on yourself by letting me help care for you. That makes you a good, sick kitten.”
“I guess,” you say. You were reluctant to go to Sylus while feeling so gross and bad, but now that you’re here with him, you’re already feeling better. His fingers playing with your hair are dulling the drums of pain in your head with an enjoyable, tingly sensation. “But I can’t rest for that long. I have a mission tomorrow.”
“You're in no state to go out on a mission,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your hot forehead, “Not with a temperature like this.”
“Try telling my boss that,” you scoff, pressing your face into his thigh.
“I’ll speak to him for you. People tend to listen to me.”
You giggle for the first time since you’ve fallen ill. “My boss can’t know Onychinus’ leader is my boyfriend. I’ll get fired.”
“Then I’ll write him a message. All you have to do is sign off and press send.” He kisses the tip of your nose and you smile.
“Really?” you say, looking up at him.
His red eyes glimmer down at yours. “Of course.”
“Okay,” you say, “but you’ll message him after you draw me a bath, right?”
“I am but a humble servant to my sick kitten,” he says, lifting you from his lap and tucking you into the silk black sheets. One more kiss and he says, “I’ll come get you when it’s ready.”
“Don’t forget the bubbles,” you chirp, covering half of your face with the blanket.
He smiles back. “I could never.”
