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Summary
You beg Sylus for a job as his housekeeper after he saves you from a violent run-in on the streets of the N109 Zone. What other choice did you have? It was supposed to be simple...clean up, stay quiet, don’t make a fuss. But nothing about Sylus is simple.
And his reasons for hiring you go far beyond dust and dishes..."I knew it was a mistake coming in here," he mutters, his voice taut, eyes unblinking. "Now I have to ask. How much?"
Your brows furrow, confusion flickering in your expression. "F-for...?"
"A taste," he says flatly. The word lands like a spark in dry brush—no hesitation, no shame, only a simmering edge of something dark and consuming.
You freeze in place. The air feels electric, like it's grown too thick to breathe."Do...you mean—"
"Yes." His voice was low, but certain, as if the question itself had been gnawing at him long before you asked it aloud. "To taste you."
Before you can even find your voice, Sylus reaches into the inner pocket of his coat and pulls out an envelope of cash, tossing it onto your nightstand with a quiet but deafening thud.
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Bookmark Notes:
Plot with fluff and has a very nice ending
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