There, close to the floor-length glass window, Sylus stood, wearing thin black pants that sinfully hung low on his hips and literally nothing else, not even a shirt. I was peeping at him, right from under the duvet, watching the way he would take a sip of his coffee every now and then, his Adam's apple bobbing so handsomely, or the way he frowned because whoever he was talking to on the phone was pissing him off.
Why did he have to look so good? And now it was even worse having gotten a taste of what he really was like last night. Between the both of us, we knew very well that this was to scratch off the itch, because if we were, to be honest with each other, we wanted each other, it wasn't one-sided. Sylus wanted me, and I wanted him too, now... I just could only sit, wondering if we really did scratch the itch or if—
