The Professor|| Sylus

Practice

As Sylus finished another flawless round, the sharp crack of gunfire echoed through the air, the smell of gunpowder lingering like an afterthought. Mei's attention drifted, her eyes catching sight of a stack of files on the edge of the table, their pages slightly seened. Curiosity flickered within her, a dangerous instinct when it came to anything related to Sylus.

Without hesitation, she moved closer, quietly her eyes scanning the profiles. They were dossiers—pictures of men she didn't recognize paired with neatly typed informations. She whispered the names under her breath, the weight of each one hanging in the silence "Anton Vega...Marcus Lyle...Gideon Stroud..." The men stared back at her from their photographs—rugged faces, cold eyes, men who were either criminals or worse. Sylus didn't keep casual records, and Mei knew these weren't just ordinary names.

Her heart rate quickened as she flipped to the next file, the unease deepening. Before she could process the significance, a shadow fell over her. She felt his presence first—a looming darkness that sent a shiver down her spine. Slowly, she turned her head, finding Sylus standing just inches away, watching her with a mixture of amusement and menace.

"Lost kitten?" he murmured, his voice low, smooth, like velvet draped over something sharp. Mei stiffened, stepping back instinctively, her body pressing against the edge of the table. Sylus closed the gap between them with a single step, his tall frame towering over her, his gaze unrelenting.

Mei's fingers gripped the table behind her, desperate for support as she found herself cornered once again. His closeness was suffocating, every inch of him radiating an effortless control that both unsettled and captivated her.

"When you're trying to sneak from me again," Sylus whispered, his lips curling into that familiar smirk, "do it when Mephisto won't see you."

Her eyes darted to the small, sleek black bird perched silently above them. Mephisto, the crow that always seemed to be watching, his sharp eyes missing nothing. She hadn't even noticed the bird in the room earlier, but of course, Mephisto was always there. Always watching, reporting everything to Sylus with eerie accuracy.

Mei's mind raced. He knew. Of course, he knew. But she wouldn't give in so easily. Straightening her back, she forced a breath of boldness into her voice. "Sneaking from you? Please." She attempted a casual shrug, though the tension in her body betrayed her. "You're the one whose sneaking away from doctors orders..."

Sylus chuckled softly, a sound that was as dark as it was amused. "My wounds are nothing but scratches," he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Doctor Gregory only fusses so I don't go back out too soon."

His words were dismissive, but Mei knew the truth. She had seen the gashes across his side, the deep bruises. But here he stood, as if nothing had happened. He thrived on pushing limits—both his and everyone else's.

"I agreed to stay here to take care of you for a week," Mei pressed, trying to regain control of the conversation. "If you really want me to help, then listen to me."

Sylus' smirk only grew wider, his dark eyes glinting with amusement at her defiance. He leans another closer, the air between them charged with unspoken tension.

"Alright then," Sylus murmured, his voice a soft, dangerous whisper.

His hand brushed against her shoulder, the touch slow, deliberate, as he slid his fingers down her arm. A slow, creeping sensation that left her skin burning in its wake.

When his hand reached hers, he didn't pull away. Instead, he placed something cold into her palm.

-The gun.

"Why don't you shoot?"

Mei's heart skipped a beat as she stared down at the weapon. The weight of it was unfamiliar, It felt different in this moment—heavier, as if it carried more than just the weight of metal and bullets.