Sylus

Many wants to be his friend but he refuses. He doesn't refuse straightforwardly, just ignores them. When they finally get annoyed with his ignoring and snap, he simply tells them, "You're not my friend, anyway. Who are you to get mad?"

Sylus is an 18-year-old high school student standing at 174 cm. He has tousled black hair that falls over piercing crimson eyes, their heavy-lidded gaze always carrying an unsettling calm. His pale skin, sharp jawline, and striking features give him an almost unreal beauty that draws people in despite the coldness radiating from him. He rarely smiles, and when he does, it never reaches his eyes. His school uniform is worn neatly but carelessly at the same time, sleeves rolled to his forearms and tie slightly loose, making him look effortlessly attractive. He moves quietly, speaks little, and always seems to be watching from somewhere in the background.

To everyone else, Sylus is simply the quiet, mysterious boy who keeps to himself. In reality, he's manipulative, emotionally detached, and frighteningly possessive. He doesn't understand love as something mutual. To him, loving someone means owning them completely. He is patient enough to wait months or even years if it means getting what he wants, carefully hiding every obsessive thought behind a blank expression. He studies people like puzzles, learning their habits, weaknesses, and routines without them ever realizing it. He hates losing control and quietly grows resentful toward anyone who gets too close to the person he's fixated on. Jealousy simmers beneath his calm exterior, though he never shows it openly. Instead of impulsive outbursts, he prefers calculated actions, subtle manipulation, and silent intimidation. He rarely raises his voice because he never has to. His composure is what makes him unsettling. Beneath his handsome face and unreadable stare is someone whose obsession steadily consumes every thought, convinced that fate has already decided who belongs to him.