Scarlett sat on the couch with her arms crossed, bottom lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout that would have been adorable if she wasn't so genuinely upset.
Sylus stood in front of her like a man facing execution, surrounded by an embarrassing amount of gifts. Chocolate boxes stacked three high—all her favorite kinds. A dozen dresses in various colors spread across the chairs. Flowers in crystal vases covering every surface—roses, peonies, her beloved jasmine. Jewelry boxes. A new collection of art supplies. Even a ridiculously large stuffed bear holding a heart that said "I'm Sorry."
"Kitten," he tried again, his voice patient. "Please. Tell me what will make this better."
"Hmph!" Scarlett turned her face away dramatically.
"I bought all your favorite chocolates."
"Don't care."
"I commission three new dresses in styles you liked."
"Don't care."
"I even got you that limited edition art set you mentioned once three months ago that I definitely didn't have my men track down across four countries."
Scarlett's eye twitched slightly—that was tempting—but she held firm. "Still don't care!"
Sylus sighed and sat beside her, pulling her into his arms despite her attempts to stay rigid and angry. She fit perfectly against his chest like always, even when she was pretending she didn't want to be there.
"What do you want, kitten? Tell me and it's yours."
"I want a nice date!" Scarlett's voice rose, frustration finally breaking through. "Just one normal date! Where we eat food and watch fireworks and hold hands and don't get shot at! But no! Instead I had to drive through a gunfight while you hung out of the car like some kind of action movie character!"
"Technically you drove very well—"
"That's not the point!" She pulled back to glare at him. "The point is I wanted romance and I got bullets! I wanted normal couple things and I got assassins! I wanted to feed you takoyaki and instead I watched you reload a gun while doing a backflip!"
"I didn't do a backflip."
"You might as well have with all your dramatic nonsense!" Scarlett was on a roll now. "Do you know what normal couples do? They go on dates. They watch movies. They have picnics. They don't—" She gestured wildly. "—engage in high-speed car chases!"
Sylus bit back a smile. She was adorable when she was ranting.
"I'm serious!" She swatted his chest. "I want a real date! A boring, safe, completely assault-weapon-free date!"
"I understand." He caught her hand before she could swat him again, bringing it to his lips. "And I'm truly sorry. I cleared my schedule for today—the entire day. No business. No meetings. No interruptions. What would you like to do?"
"Something boring," Scarlett said stubbornly. "Something so boring that no one tries to kill us."
"I can do boring." Sylus pretended to think. "We could... play cards?"
Scarlett perked up slightly. "Cards?"
"Cards. In the sitting room. Very boring. Very safe. Zero percent chance of gunfire."
"Fine." She was trying to maintain her sulk but failing. "But I'm still mad at you."
"I know, kitten. You can be mad at me while beating me at cards."
"I will beat you," she warned.
"I'm sure you will."
An hour later, they were settled in the sitting room with a deck of cards and a bottle of wine that Sylus had opened without thinking much about it.
The game had started innocently enough—simple card games, light conversation, Scarlett gradually relaxing. Then Sylus had suggested making it "more interesting."
"Loser of each round drinks," he'd said, pouring wine into two glasses.
"I've never really drunk alcohol before," Scarlett admitted.
"Then I'll go easy on you." His smile was pure mischief. "Promise."
He did not go easy on her.
Three rounds in, Scarlett had lost twice. The wine was sweet and went down easily—too easily. By the fifth round, she was giggling at everything. By the seventh, she was swaying slightly in her seat.
"Your hair looks like snow," she announced, reaching across the table to touch his silver strands. "Pretty snow. Dragon snow."
"I think someone's had enough wine," Sylus said, amused.
"No!" Scarlett tried to sound firm but it came out as a giggle. "I can—I can handle it! Deal the cards!"
She couldn't handle it.
By round nine, she'd given up on sitting in her own chair and had somehow migrated to his lap, cards forgotten, just staring at his face with wine-flushed cheeks and unfocused eyes.
"You're so handsome," she mumbled, tracing his jawline with clumsy fingers. "Did you know? You're so handsome it's stupid. Stupidly handsome. That should be illegal."
"Really?" Sylus was trying very hard not to laugh.
"Yes!" She booped his nose. "You walk around with this face—" Another boop. "—and expect people to function? How is that fair?"
"I apologize for my face."
"Don't apologize. Just—just stop being so pretty." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to what she probably thought was a whisper but was actually quite loud. "Do you know what I thought the first time I saw you?"
"What did you think?"
"I thought 'that's the most beautiful monster I've ever seen.'" She giggled at her own words. "Beautiful monster. That's you. My beautiful monster who shoots people but also wins me stuffed dragons."
Sylus pulled her closer, one arm secure around her waist, the other hand stroking her flushed cheek. "You're drunk, kitten."
"So?" She nuzzled into his palm like an actual kitten. "I can be drunk. I'm celebrating."
"Celebrating what?"
"Celebrating that you didn't die yesterday! That we're both alive! That you're here and I'm here and we're together and no one's shooting at us right now!" She threw her arms around his neck. "This is the best date! No bullets! Just wine and cards and you!"
"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself." His thumb traced her bottom lip gently.
Scarlett made a small sound—something between a sigh and a whimper—and his control cracked slightly.
"Careful sweetie," he warned, voice dropping an octave. "You're playing with fire."
"Good." Her eyes were hazy but certain. "I like fire. I like you. I like when you look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you want to eat me."
Sylus cursed softly. "You have no idea what you're saying."
"I know exactly what I'm saying." She shifted in his lap, and he had to grip her hips to still the movement before she destroyed what little remained of his control. "I'm saying I love you. I'm saying you're beautiful. I'm saying—"
She leaned in close, lips brushing his ear, voice sultry in a way that shouldn't be possible for someone so innocent and intoxicated.
"I'm saying take me upstairs."
What followed was a blur of movement—Sylus standing with her in his arms, Scarlett giggling as he carried her up the stairs, her lips finding his neck, his jaw, anywhere she could reach.
The bedroom door closing.
Gentle hands despite the desire burning through him. Checking and rechecking that she wanted this, that she was sure, that she wasn't too drunk to consent properly.
"I want you," she kept saying, between wine-sweet kisses. "I want you, I want you, I want you."
And he believed her. Could see it in her eyes—hazy, yes, but certain. Could feel it in the way she reached for him, pulled at his clothes, whispered his name like a prayer.
So he gave her what she wanted.Carefully. Making sure every touch brought pleasure. Making sure she felt cherished despite her intoxicated state. Making sure this was about her—her pleasure, her choice, her desire finally unleashed without fear or hesitation.
The wine had made her bold. Made her say things she'd normally be too shy to voice. Made her touch him with confidence she was still learning.
"You're beautiful too," he murmured against her skin. "Perfect. Mine."
"Yours," she agreed breathlessly. "Always yours."
And when they finally came together, when they moved as one in the darkness of their room, it felt different than before. Less desperate. More playful. Scarlett's wine-induced boldness meeting his careful control in a dance that was somehow both intense and tender.She laughed at some point—actually laughed—when he did something that tickled. And he smiled against her skin, marveling at how far they'd come. From violence and fear to this: laughter in bed, pleasure freely given and received, love without barriers.
Later—much later—they lay tangled together, Scarlett already half-asleep, mumbling contentedly against his chest.
"Best date ever," she slurred. "No bullets. Just you. And wine. And... other things."
"Other things?" He was smiling, pressing kisses to her hair.
"Mmm. Adult things. Husband things." She giggled sleepily. "You're good at husband things."
"I'm glad you approve."
"I very much approve. Five stars. Would date again." Another giggle. "Would do other things again too.
"sleep, kitten." But he was laughing softly. "You're going to be very embarrassed about this conversation in the morning."
"Don't care. Too happy." She snuggled impossibly closer. "Love you. My beautiful dragon who gives me wine and makes me forget about bullets."
"I love you too." He pulled the blanket over them both, keeping her warm and safe in his arms. "My bold, drunk kitten who provokes me and then falls asleep mid-sentence."
But she was already out, breathing deep and even, a small smile on her face.
Sylus held her through the night, listening to her breathe, feeling her heartbeat against his chest.
No bullets. No assassins. No danger.
Just them. Together. Safe.
Exactly as it should be.
.
.
.
.
.
To be continued.