Succubi Chapter 47. Succubus Logic
I exhaled slowly, letting the water run down my back in steaming sheets. Alright. Fine. This was happening. I could either argue with a naked, confident, tactically-trained succubus for the next twenty minutes or just… let her do whatever absurd scan she came here for and get on with my life.
I opened my arms with a dramatic sigh. "Okay. Fine. Check me."
Val's eyes sparkled a little—not in a flirty way, more like a medic who just got the green light to prod an injured tank. "I'm on it."
I stood there, arms slightly out, water still running, while Val circled me like a panther in spa mode. Occasionally, she'd touch here or there—shoulder, ribs, lower back, the side of my thigh—with careful pressure. Never weird. Never lingering.
Still.
It was a very strange experience.
Not embarrassing, per se. Not like shame or modesty kind of thing. Just… strange.
Because let's be real, if any normal girl saw a naked guy mid-shower, she'd scream bloody murder or slap him into orbit.
But Val?
She walked in like it was her bathroom, checked me out like I was a field report, and now was patting my abdomen like she was assessing a piece of well-cooked steak.
Succubus logic, man.
They were shameless—but also selectively shameless.
Like, they didn't flirt with everyone, but when they did flirt or get handsy or walk in on someone showering, it was like, "Yup, standard Tuesday." They chose the time, the place, the guy, and then the chaos began.
I stared at the wall, soap running down my neck, and thought, 'I guess that's why they all live in one estate…'
Because seriously, no normal girls would be cool with this setup.
"Are you done already?" I asked, glancing back. I could feel her eyes lingering a bit too long.
She didn't respond immediately.
Instead, she muttered, "Your body's… quite balanced. Good muscle tone."
I turned my head and gave her a flat stare. "Seriously? I thought you were scanning for demonic residue, not checking if I was 'cut'."
Val didn't flinch. She walked around and stopped in front of me now, completely unfazed by the water or, well, anything.
"I didn't find anything strange," she said, arms crossed under her chest, "so I decided to check something else."
The way she said it—dead serious—like that was a perfectly reasonable explanation for staring at my chest for way too long.
I raised an eyebrow, still dripping, still naked, still very done. "Nice excuse."
"I mean it!" she snapped, cheeks flushing red now.
Oho? Did I just… reverse uno a succubus?
"Yeah, I totally believe you checked me out medically," I said with a smirk. "Not because you wanted to check me out."
Her glare turned pouty. "You're so annoying."
"Thank you. I train every day."
I turned around and got back to shampooing my hair, rubbing the suds in while still grinning like a dumbass. Water streamed down my face, and for the first time in the past five minutes, I felt like I was back in control.
And then—
"Just a question, Evan."
I blinked. Her tone had shifted.
It wasn't teasing anymore. It wasn't smug. It was… genuine. Curious.
"Yeah?"
"Why haven't you ever gotten flustered?" she asked quietly. "Like… really. You never blush. You never look away. You never… react the way other guys do when I'm close."
I paused, hands in my hair.
That… was an oddly personal question.
I rinsed off slowly, letting the silence stretch for a moment. Then I leaned against the wall and answered honestly.
"I've dated before," I said.
Her voice perked up slightly. "So you have."
"Yeah. Because she had a crush on me," I explained. "She said she liked me, wanted to give us a chance. I wasn't really into her at first, but… she asked me to try. So I did."
Val watched me carefully, leaning against the opposite wall now, arms folded again.
"And?"
I shrugged. "We broke up."
"Why?"
"She found another guy," I said simply. "Someone she said was more interesting."
Val frowned, her brow furrowing slightly. "So you never fell for her?"
I shook my head. "I was trying to. I wanted to be a good boyfriend. But… I don't think it ever clicked. Not really. It was like I was waiting to feel something that just… didn't come."
She was quiet for a bit, processing that.
Then she asked, "And it didn't hurt when she left?"
I laughed once. "I was more embarrassed than heartbroken. I mean, I tried, right? But deep down, I think I knew I wasn't the one for her. So no. I didn't cry. I didn't chase her. I just… let her go."
Val tilted her head, lips pursed slightly. "Huh."
"What?"
"You're weird."
"Thanks."
"No, I mean it," she said, stepping closer again. "You've got this… wall. Like nothing gets through. And then sometimes, just sometimes, there's this flicker. Like there's more behind it. But then you hide it again."
"Because I'm an anomaly?" I teased.
She rolled her eyes. "No. Because you're you."
We stood there for a second, steam curling around us, water still running quietly.
The tension had shifted again.
Not seductive. Not teasing.
Just honest.
Just us.
I smiled faintly and turned off the shower. "You done profiling me, Professor Val?"
She smirked. "For now."
I was about to reach for my towel when she casually stepped forward again—like round two was about to begin.
"Hold on," she said, grabbing a soft sponge from the shelf and holding it up like a weapon. "As a sorry."
"A sorry for…?"
"For barging in," she said with a grin, "and for checking out your body a little longer than necessary."
"You mean scanning."
"Sure," she said, winking. "Scanning."
She stepped closer, sponge in one hand, other on her hip. "So… may I help His Royal Anomaly bathe?"
I blinked. "You're serious."
"Completely."
I rolled my eyes, sighing in defeat. "Fine. But if you try anything, I'm reporting you to Lilith."
"Like she'd care," Val snorted. "She'd probably ask for video footage."
…She wasn't wrong.
I turned around slowly and let the warm water start again. The steam was back, curling around our skin, turning the marble tiles into a soft blur of haze. Val hummed casually as she lathered the sponge with soap and began scrubbing across my back.
I didn't flinch. Not because it didn't feel intimate—it did—but because somehow, Val didn't make it weird. Her motions were practical. Focused. Almost like a soldier tending to her gear.
And then, of course, she had to poke the fire again.
"Still not blushing," she said casually. "What is it with you? You look like a statue."
"No heart statue," I replied dryly. "Yeah, I get that a lot. Leon mentioned that too."
She moved to my arm, gently scrubbing up to my shoulder. "And? You don't get why?"
I shook my head slowly. "Not really. I mean, I hear it a lot… that I seem cold, or unreadable. That I don't react the 'right' way."
She leaned closer, curious. "You really don't get it?"
"I really don't," I said honestly. "Maybe it's because of what I am? Because I'm… Pride?"
Val was quiet for a beat. The sponge paused at my ribs.
"I mean," I continued, "people in love act irrational, right? They get stupid. Let themselves get manipulated. Make dumb calls. Maybe for Pride types, it's some kind of built-in defense mechanism? Instinct to not trust feelings."
We were quiet again.
The only sound was the soft splash of water and the gentle drip of the shower against the floor.
I wasn't even sure why I said all that. It just… came out.
But yeah.
Maybe I wasn't immune to emotion. Maybe I was just afraid of what might happen if I let it lead. Like the moment I slipped and did something out of instinct instead of reason… I'd ruin everything.
And I hate messing up.
"Val?" I asked softly, turning my head a little.
She had stopped moving entirely now, still behind me, sponge forgotten in her hand.
She looked at me strangely—like I'd said something she didn't expect.
Then she sighed. "I guess all royals are the same, huh?"
I frowned. "Huh?"
She moved in front of me now, her expression less playful. More… thoughtful. She ran the sponge along my chest slowly, eyes not meeting mine.
"You're not wrong," she said. "Pride demons put up walls. They don't let people in. Not because they don't want to—but because they're terrified of what happens when they do."
I stayed quiet, watching her.
She continued, "There's an old story. About the king's brother. He was a Sovereign too—Pride-born. Cold. Strategic. Everyone feared him."
"Sounds familiar."
Val nodded faintly. "But once—just once—he let his guard down. Trusted someone. Showed emotion. Gave a piece of himself away."
I leaned in slightly. "And?"
"The current king took advantage of it," she said. "He cursed him. Overthrew him. Banished him from the throne."
I paused.
So that's what it meant. Lowering your guard wasn't just risky—it was dangerous. Fatal.
"So… that's bad?" I asked slowly, though I already knew the answer.
Val smiled sadly. "In the world of demons? In the politics of sin? Yeah. It's really bad."
We stared at each other for a long second, steam rising between us, the water still falling softly in the background.
I didn't know what to say.
I didn't know how to fix that.
But maybe I didn't have to.
She reached up, gently flicked soap off my nose, and whispered, "But… we're not all like that."
"Huh?"
"Some of us don't care if you blush or not," she said. "Some of us don't need you to fall apart to feel close to you."
She looked me in the eye this time.
"I just want you to know you're not alone in this. Even if you can't feel it yet."
I stared at her.
Then, quietly, I nodded.
"…Thanks."
She smiled, small but genuine.
Then she reached for the shampoo again.
"Now tilt your head. I'm rinsing your hair before you overthink this entire moment."
I chuckled. "Bossy."
"I'm helping. Shut up and enjoy it, Your Royal Stiffness."
"…That's not a title I want to keep."
Too late. She was already laughing.
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