The clock struck midnight, and the mansion was engulfed in silence, save for the soft ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the emptiness in your stomach gnawing at you. You hadn't eaten all day, pushing away the meals Sylus had prepared as usual. But tonight, the hunger was insistent, almost painful.
You rolled over, pulling the blankets tighter around you, trying to ignore it. But the thought of food wouldn't go away. You could feel your pride keeping you in bed, telling you to just sleep it off, that you didn't need anything from Sylus. But deep down, you knew ordering food this late was impossible, and the idea of sneaking down to the kitchen yourself felt oddly humiliating.
As the minutes ticked by, you couldn't take it anymore. With an annoyed huff, you threw the blankets off and slipped out of bed. Your bare feet padded softly against the floor as you made your way down the hall, your irritation growing with every step. You told yourself you weren't going to beg for help, but deep down, you knew you were about to ask him for something. And that thought only annoyed you further.
You reached Sylus's bedroom door and paused. The door was slightly ajar, the soft sound of his steady breathing drifting through the small gap. You stood there for a moment, debating whether to knock or just storm in. Your pride and your hunger were at war with each other, and for once, hunger was winning.
Finally, with a sigh, you gently pushed the door open and stepped inside. Sylus was asleep, his chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. The sight of him sleeping so calmly made you even more irritable, as if he had no right to be so relaxed when you were suffering.
"Sylus," you muttered, standing at the foot of his bed. He didn't stir.
"Sylus," you repeated, a little louder this time. Still nothing.
You clenched your fists, feeling a wave of frustration wash over you. Marching over to his side of the bed, you reached out and gave his shoulder a gentle shake.
"Sylus, wake up," you said, your voice a mix of annoyance and something softer, though you'd never admit it.
He stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open. He blinked a few times, disoriented from sleep, before his gaze landed on you. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Are you okay?" His voice was soft and rough from sleep, but there was immediate concern in his tone.
You crossed your arms, trying to maintain some semblance of your usual coldness, though your stomach betrayed you with an audible grumble.
"I'm hungry," you mumbled, looking away from him. The words came out begrudgingly, like a grumpy kitten who didn't want to admit it needed something.
He blinked again, clearly processing what you said, then sat up, his confusion giving way to amusement. "You're... hungry?"
"Yes, I'm hungry," you snapped, feeling embarrassed. "I haven't eaten all day, and there's no way to order anything at this hour."
Sylus watched you for a moment, his lips curling into a soft, knowing smile. He ran a hand through his tousled hair before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up.
"All right, I'll make you something," he said, his tone calm as ever.
You narrowed your eyes at him, annoyed by how easygoing he was about all this. "You don't have to act like it's no big deal."
He turned to look at you, that same patient warmth in his eyes. "I'm not. You're hungry, and I'm going to take care of it. Simple as that."
Without another word, he walked past you, heading for the kitchen. You followed him, feeling oddly vulnerable in the moment. It wasn't just about the hunger. There was something about asking for help from Sylus-something you had avoided doing for so long-that made you feel exposed.
In the kitchen, he moved around with practiced ease, gathering ingredients from the fridge and pantry. You stood by the counter, watching him in silence.
"Anything specific you want?" he asked, glancing at you over his shoulder.
You shrugged, still trying to keep your guard up. "Just... whatever's quick."
Sylus nodded and started preparing a simple dish, moving with a quiet confidence that made you wonder just how many nights he had spent like this-cooking in the middle of the night, thinking about things you'd never understand. You hated to admit it, but there was something comforting about the way he worked, the way he made it seem like taking care of you was the most natural thing in the world.
After a few minutes, he set a plate down in front of you-nothing fancy, just a late-night meal to satisfy your hunger. You looked at it, your stomach growling in anticipation, but your pride still made you hesitate.
Sylus watched you for a moment, then leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. "You don't have to pretend you're not starving."
You shot him a glare, but there was no real malice behind it. You grabbed the fork and took a bite, the warmth of the food immediately easing the ache in your stomach. For the first time, you allowed yourself to enjoy something he had made, even though you kept your eyes trained on your plate, not wanting to acknowledge his presence too much.
After a few bites, you glanced up at him, noticing that he hadn't moved. He was still watching you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"What?" you asked, your voice still holding a hint of defensiveness.
"Nothing," he replied, shaking his head slightly. "Just glad to see you finally eating something."
You frowned, not liking the way his words made you feel. "Don't get used to it."
Sylus chuckled softly, his voice low and soothing. "I won't, but it's nice to see you not pushing me away for once."
You didn't respond to that, focusing on finishing your meal. But deep down, you knew he was right. In this small, quiet moment, something had shifted between you. It wasn't much, but it was the first crack in the wall you had so carefully built around yourself.
When you finished eating, you set the fork down and stood up, not sure what to say. Sylus watched you with that same steady gaze, never pushing, never demanding anything from you.
"Thanks," you muttered under your breath, barely loud enough for him to hear.
He nodded, his smile soft. "Anytime."
You hesitated for a moment, then turned and walked back toward your room. As you lay in bed, your hunger finally sated, you couldn't help but think about how easily Sylus had handled the situation-how he had met your grumpy demands with warmth and understanding, without making you feel small or weak.
Maybe, just maybe, you had been too hard on him.
