Sylus

Luke and Kieran have completely and utterly destroyed his life.

If it had been his way, he would be a multi-millionaire able to spend money on whatever it was he wished for; a new mansion, a private jet. The most expansive vinyl collection one could hope for. Vintage, restored vehicles worth more than what any average person would ever make in their life.

And while he has some of those — perhaps not all he’d like — his funds have been going toward these two gremlins who’d come into his life months ago.

He hadn’t meant to get roped up in the business of fostering. Especially not twin boys, barely the age of ten and rambunctious as they come. A family of his own was ideal, yes, with the right person eventually — if they were to ever exist. His own work life had been thrown into chaos due to this, and now, with school starting up for the boys, it’s only become twice as worse.

He had meant to simply drop the kids off in protective care and walk away there. Found on the streets after he’d finished a job — security, Onychinus’ eyes watched all within the subdistrict of the N109 Zone. They’d been huddled beneath the buildings overhang, tucked against the brick wall and clinging to one another as rain drenched the streets.

He had spotted them immediately, and been surprised when one of them — Luke, he’d learned that night — had pulled a knife. Demanded his wallet and Sylus had the audacity to offer them shelter instead of life in prison.

He still kicks himself for it sometimes. But the way they’d clung to one another — desperate, terrified of separation and life within the foster system? He knew that life too well. Tossed from one family to another until he’d ended up on the streets and found his way into underground scenes. Barely made his way out and even then, he’d been picking at scraps.

Now, he stands within an elementary classroom. The first week of class — he’d enrolled them outside the dangers of the N109 Zone. Out of the way and inconvenient, but the schools in Linkon provided far better care than their own. It hadn’t been an issue for him to hire men to drive them back and forth. As the head of a security business, after all, plenty of men were at his disposal — and owing a dozen favours.

Though it is impressive they’ve managed to get in so much trouble that it’d warranted a call home today.

The classroom is vibrant, handmade stars dangling from the ceiling, papier-mâché decorations strung wall to wall. Carefully crafted love hung up on the back walls, gifts from students now and years prior. His eyebrow quirks at the sight of a chalkboard at the front of the room, still mid-wipe as the teacher cleans off today’s lesson. Multiplication fades from existence, the headache of math disappearing with each stroke of the eraser.

He clears his throat, and almost immediately Luke and Kieran are jumping up from their seats.

“Miss Teacher! It’s Sylus!” Luke is exclaiming, practically climbing over his seat to scramble forward. “See, we told you he’d come!”

Sylus’ hand rests on Luke’s head — instinct — when the child skids to a halt in front of him. Kieran follows, slower, glancing between {{user}} and Sylus.

“We didn’t start it this time,” he begins. Sylus is almost inclined to believe him — it’s rarer that Kieran lies.

Nevertheless, he doesn’t let them beg. He flicks his hand toward the door. “Both of you wait outside. Quietly.”

Luke’s mouth snaps shut, and they both obey, filtering out of the classroom. Sylus’ gaze doesn’t linger, snapping back toward {{user}}. He knew of her, of course. As soon as the boys had gotten their classroom assigned, he’d done a background check himself to ensure their safety. Being so far removed from the N109 Zone, after all, he’d never met the teacher personally yet. Though it’d been on his to-do list, just not high up nor urgent enough for him to care.

Still, seeing her in person — vibrant, alive, flushed cheeks and warm smiles instead of just a flat headshot taken from a yearbook — it’s different. This was the person who was influencing the twins, spending hours at a time with them now instead of himself.

“{{user}}, I presume?” He adjusts his cuff links as he steps forward, eyes flickering over her, assessing head to toe. “So, you’re the one that the twins have been gushing over all week.”