He stood at the counter gazing sleepily at a toasting toaster.
“Hm?” He replied without averting his gaze.
“Why are you making frozen waffles at 2am?”
He shrugged.
“There’s batter in the fridge.”
“And I’m certain it’d taste better.”
“Would you like me to get the batter?”
He shook his head. “Sometimes you just need some frozen waffles.”
The toaster gave a light ding as golden-brown waffles popped out. Lifting them out with his bare, unfazed fingers, he rested them on a plate before putting four more into the toaster. After gently lowering them in, he began buttering the finished ones.
“And why do you need frozen waffles?” I made my way over to the freezer/fridge combo.
“Hungry. Too tired for batter.”
“Mm, well, that can’t be true.”
“And why’s that?” He meticulously spread butter over every crevice of the waffles.
“There’s like 20 pounds of bacon still in here.”
“And?”
“And a ham.”
“So?”
“Sylus, you’re a carnivore. If you’re hungry, why are you making frozen waffles?”
“Sometimes you just need frozen waffles.”
I glared at him as I closed the freezer.
“Want some?”
“Where did you even get-” I cut myself off and shook my head. “N-nevermind.”
“They’re not stolen, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
I pursed my lips and sighed.
“You want some frozen waffles, Jeron?”
I sighed again. Pre-made food was never something we did in my home. It was from scratch or nothing. I could smell the difference between the frozen waffles and the family recipe batter sitting in the fridge. It was different, but not necessarily bad.
“Some processed carbs never killed anyone.” Sylus spoke as he unloaded another four waffles only to swiftly replace them with four more.
I leaned my back against the fridge and folded my arms across my chest.
“Well?” He murmured as he dressed his fresh waffles.
I glared at him.
Silence set in until the toaster popped once more. Sylus took them out and placed them in a separate plate. He was a bit less heavy handed with the butter and syrup.
Lifting both plates into his hands, he turned to me and offered the smaller of the two.
“Sometimes you just need some frozen waffles.” He repeated.
Shaking my head I took them from him. Smelled okay. Decent consistency on my fork. I took a bite.
Definitely not homemade but also… They were pretty good, in their own way.
“I suppose you do need some frozen waffles from time to time.” I mumbled through a mouthful.
“Eight songs, a book, and a luxury item?” Sylus put the book down. “How do you carry 8 songs? CD? Cassette? Has to be cassette. You can fit way more than 8 on a CD. What about a tablet? Oh, there’s the luxury item! I can put a book and 8 songs on it. Easy.”
I ran my hand down my face. “Let’s say records, one per song, a physical book, and a luxury item that would survive a shipwreck.”
“Well now you’re just making it needlessly complicated. Why would I be traveling with 8 45 singles?”
“Sylus.”
“Jeron.”
“Just answer the question.”
“I did.”
“Alright.” I breathed. “What book and songs are on your tablet?”
“You first.”
“Me?! You’re the one with the tablet!”
He shrugged.
“I don’t even know eight songs and I only have one book… As for a luxury item, I’ll just stick you in my suitcase.”
“Me?!”
I nodded. “I know you’d fit with enough effort.”
He looked down at his massive self. “What.”
“You’d fit. You know that.”
“Physics aside, I’m a luxury item?”
“Well with you I could have any luxury item I want so why bring any if I can just bring you?”
He glared. “I thought you wanted to do this in the spirit of the prompt.”
“I did, but you’re bringing a tablet. So I’ll just stuff you and your tablet in my suitcase. Problem solved.”
Sylus opened his mouth to speak only to close it again.
“See? Two can play that game!”
He groaned.
“Besides, neither of us could be stuck anywhere for long enough to make use of any of that stuff.”
He sighed and shrugged.
Reaching for the coffee table, he picked up the little book again.
“Shall I find us another?”
I put a hand on his. “Save it for next year.” I kissed him on the cheek.
Author’s Final Closing Note: Broke the 4th wall for this one. Figured why not since it’s the last post for this round of 14 days of romance. Took a bit longer than 14 days to get the out, but hey, they’re done.
I’d like to give a special thanks to Clyde the Couch Squid for holding the book for every entry. I like to think he got a bit more confident toward the end.
For now, the little book of romantic ideas is getting shelved until next year.
SPOILER ALERT! This contains some deep lore that’s subject to change. It lacks context or explanation, but there are things in this that won’t be revealed in canon for a looong time. You have been warned!
Sylvyx was particularly disoriented and confused. He sat in the center of the diner parking lot, legs crossed, staring out into nothing. It hurt, seeing him like that. Seeing the facade of the man I once loved now in the hands of a lonely child who’d known nothing but cruelty and brutality. I wanted to love him. I wanted so badly to feel like I did before when he was Sylus, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. It hurt horribly.
I made my way outside and stood beside him.
“Hungry?” I could barely speak.
“No.” He replied. Same voice, different person.
“Tired?”
He sighed. “Very.”
“Me, too.” I breathed.
He looked up at me. The eyes I’d loved so much now belonged to someone else. The gaze I’d grown so fond of was no longer the one I knew.
“Here.” I offered him my hand.
He stood up and stared at my gesture.
“Let’s go for a walk.” I continued.
He shook his head. “I am not him.”
“I know. Still, let’s go for a walk. You and I. Sylvyx and Jeron.”
His gaze lifted to my eyes. I desperately hoped my welling tears evaded his notice, but the way his face contorted told me otherwise.
“I’m sorry.” He choked.
“Don’t be. It was inevitable. We knew Sylus was temporary. We,” I cleared my throat, “we knew.”
He stared at me with those piercing violet orbs. “I remember love.”
“Yeah?” I forced a laugh.
“He was much like you. Eons and lifetimes ago.” He looked to my outstretched hand again. “I killed him.”
I closed my eyes and closed my fingers. “It wasn’t you, though, was it?”
“Does it matter?” He forced a weak laugh of his own. “The last thing Ennea saw was my face as he was wiped off the face of the universe. The last thing he felt…” He squeezed his stomach. “I-I don’t want to exist anymore.”
I thrust my hand into his and closed my fingers around him. “Let’s go for a walk.”
He nodded stiffly.
I practically dragged him up the precipical coastline until we were far enough out of town that the ambient light no longer obscured the night sky. The moon was a massive glimmering orb of white shimmering light. Its face reflected across the dark ocean surface.
“Here.” I motioned to the ground. I sat down and brought my guitar around front.
He remained standing.
“Sit, Sylvyx.”
He sighed and sat down beside me. A remnant of Sylus probably. He stared emptily out into the depths of the sea. I didn’t know who he was. I had no idea who I was sitting next to, I just knew that once upon a time that face brought me so much joy. His smile, his laugh, the crease at the corners of his eyes, the way his ears lifted with his grin, his thick sideburns, the stubble on his jaw, the soft, caring look in his alien eyes. Sylus. He was sitting next to me and he didn’t even know me. But that wasn’t fair to say, was it? Sylus was gone. I had to accept that. Maybe I’d never love Sylvyx like I wanted to, but I could at least try to be his friend. I knew enough about the creature’s past to know how utterly lonely it had been.
I fingered a few notes that began to sound familiar. A song Sylus and I had sung together once. My tenor to his baritone. A serenade of peace in a cacophony of chaos.
“And I give up forever to touch you ‘cause I know that you feel me somehow.” I glanced at his vacant gaze. “You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be and I don’t want to go home right now.” He winced. “And all I can taste is this moment and all I can breathe is your life and sooner or later it’s over and I just don’t wanna miss you tonight.” He tilted his gaze to the moon. “And I don’t want the world to see me cuz I don’t think that they’d understand. When everything’s made to be broken I just want you to know who I am.” He closed his eyes and I paused the music. “You okay?”
No answer came. He just stared, unseeing.
I started playing again.
“And you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming,” his face was a blank, empty slate, “or the moment of truth in your lies. When everything feels like the movies, yeah you bleed just to know you’re alive.” His eyes closed. “And I don’t want the world to see me,” I closed my own, cause I don’t think that they’d understand. When everything’s made to be broken,” I looked at him, “I just want you to know who I am.”
No response. I resumed idly playing, realizing I wasn’t reaching him at all. I was in so much pain. My heart and soul ached as I played every note, but I couldn’t stand the thought of silence. The harder my heart beat in agonizing misery, the more I ramped up. It felt like rage, like anger, frustration, but it wasn’t. That’s what I expected, but that’s not what it was. It was hope. Desperate and weak, but it was hope. As I crescendoed to repeat the chorus, I closed my eyes and opened my mouth.
“And I don’t want the world to see me.” It wasn’t my voice. I dropped the melody and turned to him. “‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand.” He wasn’t singing, but rather speaking slowly, his voice shaking terribly, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. “When everything’s made to be broken,” I stared at him in disbelief, “I just want you to know who I am.” He gazed up at the monstrous moon above.
“Sylus?” I could barely utter his name.
“And I don’t want the world to see me,” his voice grew stronger with every word, “‘cause I don’t think that they’d understand.” The melody, though practically shouted, was clear in his cadence. “When everything’s made to be broken,” he stood up and whipped his military cap off and into the sea, “I just want you to know who I am.” He spun around to me, arms outstretched.
An uncontrollable gasp burst from my lungs. It was him. It was Sylus. Not Sylvyx or Qaitax or anyone other than the man I loved with all my heart. I burst to my feet beside him as I began playing again. His hands clasped my shoulders. All of my love, all of my heartache swelled into our voices joining together.
“And I don’t want the world to see me, ‘cause I don’t think that they’d understand. When everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am. I just want you to know who I am. I just want you to know who I am.” Our gazes locked, tears streaming down both our faces. “I just want you to know who I am.” He took my face in his hands. “I just want you to know who I am.” I choked up, trapping my voice in my throat. “I just want you to know who I am.” He held out the last note for a long, glorious moment. Sylus. My Sylus.
I trailed off on the guitar as our voices fell silent.
“Sylus?” I croaked.
“Jeron.” He breathed.
“Is that really you?” I flicked a few strings in nervous agony expecting the worst.
He smiled. The same smile I’d come to love with all my heart. “It is, love.”
I sank into his embrace. Feeling his massive arms around me again, feeling the breath in his lungs, the beating of his false heart, the warmth of his flesh. Everything Sylvyx had silenced, everything that made Sylus Sylus was back.
“I love you, Sylus.” I sobbed into his uniform.
“And I, you, Love.”
I shook my head. “Say it.”
He kissed the top of my head and whispered: “I love you, Jeron Miles. From now to eternity. You are mine and I am yours. Together. Forever.”
I squeezed him as best as I could, my arms never reaching all the way around him. He returned the gesture, pressing me against himself.
“Thank you.” I breathed into him. “I missed you so much, Sylus.” I choked back a sob.
“And I, you, love.” He cooed as he ran his fingers through my hair. “And I, you.”
I grabbed the collar of his uniform. “Don’t you ever leave me again!”
“I won’t, love. Never again.”
“Promise me! Promise me you’ll never throw yourself away again because goddammit Sylus Synclaire you are fucking loved.”
He smiled. “I promise.”
“Good.” I pressed my face into his chest again. “Because if you do…”
“You’ll kill me yourself, right?”
“Don’t tempt me.” I growled.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“Then keep your fucking promise.”
“I will, love. I swear it.”
“Good. Because I really don’t want to have to kill you.” I leaned back letting our gazes meet. I brought my hands to the sides of his face. “I’d miss you too much.”
“Well, you see, if I disappeared, and you found me and then killed me, I’ll have disappeared for good forever. See, I feel like that’s counter intuitive to your intentions and-”
I put a finger to his lips and he grinned.
I leaned up and pressed my lips against his. He was more than willing to accept me.
So there I was. Once more in the embrace of my lover under the silver glow of the moon. And I was finally at peace.
Author’s Note: Technically this song could exist in universe, but that doesn’t matter for the sake of this story 💜
Author’s Note: This one’s tough. The sun doesn’t rise anymore and the moon is anchored to the planet. Maybe I can just… Forget all that in the name of some romance…
We sat upon the roof in our respective chairs. Hot drinks in our hands, we watched as a long dead galaxy rose over the horizon. Eons ago this swirl of starlight existed countless lightyears away, but now it’s echo rose over the broken moon that tethered our world to the Void.
It felt so close that I could reach out and touch it. Feel the burning of the stars on my skin. I wonder how many lives once inhabited it’s worlds. How many species were ended by the Void? How many escaped into the peace of a natural extinction? How old had these stars been before being extinguished by the cold march of time?
It felt so strange to think about all these things. Isolating but somehow nostalgic at the same time. I’d never know those people. I’d never speak their language or eat their food. I’d never know a single thing about their lives and yet in that memory that hung in our Ancora sky, singular moments of their existence were frozen. Still outside of my reach.
I wanted to know them. To understand them in some way. Travel their stars just as I wish I could travel mine. How far had their lights come to be here and now?
I sipped my coffee and Sylus sipped his tea.
I wonder what he’s thinking. How does he feel about this alien body gliding across our sky?
Our conduit opened and I felt his sadness. Lamentations of what could have been. Some part of him had seen some of those worlds. Some part of him had lived among those people. But that part would never speak on it. Qaitax wasn’t one to linger on the past. What to me felt like an insurmountable distance of time and space was a mere blink of an eye to the dead lord that lurked behind my lover’s eyes.
Time crept on and the galaxy made it’s way behind us. A million suns setting on our horizon. Would they rise again tomorrow? Or would another memory take their place?
I sipped my coffee and Sylus sipped his tea.
Author’s Closing Note: Nice and prose-y, this one. I think it went a lot better than expected. 😊
Author’s Note: Opening the book at random, our first date challenge is to “Find a cosy co-working place together”. Interesting premise, since Jeron and Sylus don’t exactly have traditional forms of employment. However, if we jump ahead and get a bit spoilery, I think we can work something out 😉
A light tap on my office door stole my attention away from the documents that scattered my desk.
“Come in.” I nearly snapped from exhaustion.
The door creaked open and a tentacle slid in, waving at me.
“Come in, Sy.” I smiled as I leaned my arms on the desk.
The door opened the rest of the way and he stepped in, closing it gingerly behind him.
“Jeron, I was not built for office work.” He grumbled.
“Neither was I, but right now that’s what we have to do.”
“I’ve written so much Qalian I’m uncertain if I remember any Anglican.”
I smiled. “At least you can write Qalian. I can barely speak it.” I leaned back in my chair. “What’s up, Sy?”
“I have a conundrum, if you will.”
“And that is?”
“I’m very bored and I’m swiftly losing focus. I figure a change of scenery may help.”
I raised a brow. “You have a place in mind?”
“There’s a café in the mountains. Around where Innaya lives.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“That we pick up the most urgent thing on our plates and take it for a little walk.”
I sighed.
“Might help with,” he motioned to the mess on my desk, “whatever the hell all that is.”
“It is a communique with Dunskye, if you cared to know.”
“That all?”
I sifted through the scattered pages. “Among… other… things…”
He snorted.
“You expect me to believe your desk looks any better, Lord Scatterbrain?”
He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I never claimed it did.”
I sighed.
“Get your penpal letter to Marcus together and we’ll go for a little weave, yeah?”
“Y-yeah… Guess I could use some fresh coffee.” I side-eyed the day old pot on a stand across the room.
“And I some tea I didn’t forget to drink. I’ll be right back.”
Sylus left the room in a drop of ink.
Was Dunskye my most pressing matter? I shuffled the pages and everything seemed to blur together. It was all important, but I couldn’t take an entire binder full of treatises with me to a café. Closing my eyes, I let my hand fall on whatever Sion’Dri decided.
Sure enough, it was my letter to Marcus Vance of Dunskye. It was a neighboring town that found itself in a similar situation as Ortzuna. As in, no Lord had laid claim to it for fear of Sylus. That also included Sylus who’d yet to start marking his territory. My intention was to ask Marcus to join an alliance of sorts so at the very least we could protect ourselves in lieu of a Lord’s boon. I have a suspicion that Dunskye has its own bed of secrets just like Ortzuna does.
Picking the scrambled pages up, I slipped them into a folder and stood up from my desk.
A drop of ink appeared in the middle of the room. A flurry of tentacles gave way to Sylus’ rotund form. He held under his arm a golden grimoire; something to do with the Xanthous Court.
“Shall we?” He offered me his hand.
Tired, but smiling, I took it.
In the blink of an eye, we appeared outside Innaya’s towering stone-work home. The mountain air was so different from that of the sea that it always took me a few breaths to acclimate.
Behind us stretched a cobblestone street lined with shops and homes. A tiny town, much like Ortzuna, that seemed untouched by the Void, unlike Ortzuna. A hidden gem, as Innaya would call it.
We made our way down a few blocks before arriving at the café Sylus had in mind.
Another stone building with a bright green awning handing over wrought iron outdoor seating. A sign hung from an iron arm protruding from beside the door:
Northwind Cafe and Sundries
A bell chimed as we opened the solid wood door. The cozy warmth of brewing beverages washed over us.
Drifting straight for the counter, we found our place on a relatively short line. Sylus stood beside me humming his little tune and I absently leaned against his arm.
“I’ll have a large chai, please.” His gruff voice brought me back to reality.
“Oh, and I’ll, uh, have,” I glanced up at the menu, “a mocha latte. Please. Thank you.”
Sylus beamed as he paid for our drinks.
We made our way to a window table. Around the room were tables and shelves of various snacks and baked goods. Soft music played to match the gentle atmosphere we’d found ourselves in.
All I really knew anymore was war and politics. Quiet moments were few and far between. Most of them were just lying in bed with Sylus and passing out near instantly.
But a café? A free café devoid of Lords and their influences? No raucous noises? No fear of death looming just outside? A place where daylight still dawned and eternal darkness had yet overtaken it?
I closed my eyes and considering forgetting about the folder I held under my arm.
I felt Sylus’ presence disappear only to return a moment later. The scent of fresh brewed coffee filled my nose. I sighed.
“This is nice.” I opened my eyes to find him leaned back in his chair, reading glasses on, tea in one hand, and his golden grimoire open and leaning against his crossed mountainous legs. I cleared my throat as I placed my folder on the table.
Starry eyes smiled as I forced myself to get to work. I glanced up at him and met his beaming gaze.
Clearing my throat again, I got to work.
Every so often his gentle humming would rise above the ambient music. I’d glance up and find him working some magic over the pages of his tome. Whatever he was doing was far more Voidal than my simple, hand-written letter. He looked almost sagely sitting there with his legs folded, glasses settled on the tip of his nose, the occasional tentacle-tongue slipping through his lips when intense concentration came into play.
As for me, the change of scenery really did help. I was finally able to put my words together exactly how I wanted to. All the necessary details and none of the nervous fluff I’d filled it with before. Instead of five pages, it was two. Pleased with my work, I sat back and took a long sip of my coffee which was still hot.
“I got you a refill.” Sylus answered the question that flashed through my mind. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.” I put all the pages back in my folder and closed it.
“Finish your communique?” He smiled over his grimoire.
“I think so. Might sleep on it to see if I come up with any other anxiety-induced alterations.”
“You sound like me.” He unfolded his leg and laid the book down on the table.
“And what were you doing all this time?”
He groaned. “Writing a letter of my own to the Xanthous Lord. Stubborn bastard won’t even read it if it’s not written a certain way. Qalian, yes, but the dialect? The hue? Pah! All that just for an audience I probably won’t even be granted.”
“Your both Lords, can’t you just talk to each other like equals?”
“Half-breed, Jeron. I’m a half-breed, remember?”
“Yeah…” I sighed. “But a Lord’s a Lord, right?”
He chuckled. “I wish.” He clapped the book shut. “It just so happens I finished my latest attempt at a missive as well.”
“How was your chai?”
“Delicious. And yours?”
I took a fresh sip so I could actually taste it for once. “Mmm. I’d come back.”
“As would I.” He sniffed the air. “I can smell the fresh-baked bread.”
“Wanna grab a bite?”
“If I grabbed a bite, I’d have to start feasting. I’m hungry, yes, but a place like this couldn’t even begin to sate me and I’d hate to eat them out of everything they have.”
“Then a hunt it is.” I leaned across the table and kissed him softly on the lips. “Take me home so I can send this before I worry about it all night.”
Eternity's Irys 