Chapter 12
The Horror of Reality and the Slippers of Salvation
Jamie's POV
Opening my eyes, I was greeted by the familiar, comforting sight of my old bedroom. My laptop was displayed right in front of me, the screen glowing softly, awaiting my command. I reached out, my fingers immediately touching my gamepad, then running my hands around my favorite ergonomic desk. I couldn't help but toss around, revelling in the sensation of my own familiar sheets.
"Finally, finally, I woke up from that horrible, smelly dream. Thank gracious, it's over," I muttered, pulling the soft blankets up to my chin.
"If you keep tossing around, I'll get harder than the hard I already am, and you won't leave this bed till I'm satisfied."
Just like a bucket of icy water being dumped over my head, Lucien's voice echoed in my ear. The terrifying, possessive sound instantly stole away that beautiful, wishful dream, making me wake up to the full horror of my reality. The worst part was that this particular reality came with a physical terror.
I wasn't in my own side of the bed. I was cocooned. Lucien's entire body was draped all over me, his massive, masculine arm wrapped around my torso, dragging me into his warm, suffocating embrace. My head was resting in the hollow of his shoulder, and his face was mere inches from mine, his warm, musky breath fanning my forehead.
"Blood of the holy ghost!" I screamed, a high-pitched sound of absolute terror, instantly jerking away from him.
The frantic movement sent me tumbling off the narrow bed. My ass hit the hard ground with a painful thud, making me wince and yelp.
"Aaaagh! You… you…" I accused, scrambling backward on the floor, pointing a trembling finger at him. "Why were you so close to me? Why were you practically wearing me?"
Lucien, looking mildly perplexed but completely comfortable, simply looked over to his side of the bed. He was still firmly on his half, meaning if anyone had moved, it was me, snuggling closer in my sleep.
"Father… Father… bush hunting?" the kids' voices echoed as they suddenly bolted into the room, their eyes wide and confused as they stared at me—their Papa—splayed on the mud floor.
I ignored them for a moment, letting the wave of pain subside, and slowly stood up, brushing the dirt from my makeshift pants. I realized this was the perfect moment to instill some manners, a non-negotiable part of my Earth-based life.
"When you walk in and see elder people, you greet them," I started, adopting a stern, teacherly tone. "You greet every time you see someone for the first time that day, even if it's early morning. You greet 'Good morning.' If the sun is high, you greet 'Good afternoon.' If the sun has gone down and the day is getting dark, you greet 'Good evening.' Then, before sleeping, you greet 'Good night.' It's a way to show respect to people older than you, and it's a manner good and obedient kids should have. So what do you say to your father and… pa… pa?"
My ears turned bright red at that final, dreaded word. I couldn't believe I was already accepting the soul-crushing role of playing someone's wife/mother/female figure.
"Good morning, Papa!" the kids' voices echoed in unison, surprisingly loud and clear. It made me smile despite the lingering shock. They were brilliant learners. Now that they had made my day, even though the 'Papa' part still sounded incredibly strange.
"Morning, sweeties," I replied, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed.
"Good morning, Father," they greeted in unison, turning their attention to Lucien. Lucien smiled—a genuine, warm smile that softened his rugged features—and beckoned them. They immediately ran to his side, and he hugged them all together in one massive, protective embrace.
Such a fatherly image, I conceded, a sliver of genuine warmth cutting through my apprehension.
"Host cleared two missions," the System's voice echoed directly in my mind. "Host, choose two items from the store now."
I felt a surge of adrenaline and happiness, immediately scrolling through the app's endless catalog. My eyes landed on a large, gooey pizza and then dropped to the kids' bare, dirty feet. My stomach fought a fierce protest against my conscience. The pizza was winning, but the sight of those little feet running over the cold, rough ground was a stronger pull.
With a long, resigned sigh like an elderly person giving up their last vice, I reluctantly tapped on the option for slippers for eight and then on toothbrushes and a big bag of paste. Yellow teeth were absolutely not my calling; hygiene was paramount.
Grudgingly looking at the items that had instantly materialized beside me on the bed, the slippers came in a variety of colors, thankfully, so the kids wouldn't misplace each other's. The toothbrushes also matched, with six vibrant colors for the kids and two more conservative ones—grey and black—for the adults. The grey was obviously mine, as the black one was clearly sized for Lucien's larger hands.
I wanted to cry. I couldn't believe I was choosing family necessities over gourmet food. Such immense, soul-crushing responsibility for a young adult like me.
"Host has a bonus," the System suddenly chirped, sounding amused. "A few assorted snacks, cookies, and a whole chocolate cake with utensils have been unlocked as a reward for prioritizing the family's well-being!"
My eyes instantly brightened at the name of cake. Now this System had finally said something worthwhile! Such good news after all the trauma this morning. I couldn't wait to devour the cake, but the presence of seven other people next to me—and my stinginess when it came to sharing gourmet food—stopped me from clicking on the reward. Hygiene first.
"Move over, cute buns! See what Papa Jamie got for you!" I called out, my voice laced with forced cheer.
Immediately, they shifted toward me, their curiosity finally overriding their shyness. Though they came closer, they still weren't completely relaxed, but at least an increase in their affection bar was progress.
"Your feet have been hurting from running around barefoot, right?" I asked, watching them all nod their heads sheepishly. I began to set the colorful slippers out, starting with the pink pair.
"Ella," I called. She shyly walked towards me. Immediately I tried to carry her, she stiffened, ready to escape, but she didn't bolt. Once she was on my laps, I chose the pink pair for her. She looked good in pink. I gently helped her fit her feet into the shoes. They were soft, tender, and her size, though slightly bigger, ensuring she could wear them for three or four more years before outgrowing them.
Watching her step down, she patrolled a little, smiling with a pure, unadulterated joy that melted my cynical heart. I saw the affection bar over her head suddenly increase by four points, adding to her current score, making it 26 points of love affection toward me. Wow. It was worth every bit of self-denial. I hadn't known something so little could make them so incredibly happy.
"Fiona," I called. She walked towards me. This time, when I lifted her, she didn't stiffen at all. She simply waited patiently for her shoes. Indeed, she was going to be a strong lady that no beast male would dare play with. I hoped Ella would also become a little stubborn and strong so she wouldn't be bullied.
The moment I slipped the orange slippers onto her feet, I watched her smile and patrol around with confidence. On her head, I noticed an astonishing nine love emojis, adding nine points to her bar. Wow. This girl was tough. You hardly earned her affection, but once you did, it shocked you with the high score. That was massive progress.
"Carlos," I called, watching him approach me shyly. I could tell he and Ella had almost the same personality, only Carlos was more of an emo-boy—emotional and reserved. Still, I lifted him up, and his bar increased by two points. The moment I put the blue slippers on him, his bar increased by five points, and I was rewarded with a genuine smile.
Next was Daniel, to whom I gave purple. Then Benjamin. He looked like a boy that played roughly, so I gave him brown for durability. Finally, Adrien, who received blue.
I matched their toothbrushes to their shoe colors, carefully explaining the color coordination so they could easily identify their own.
It looks like I wasn't brought here to be a cook only, but to be a wife, a papa, a motherly figure, and a teacher.
"You're going to pay me significantly more for all these extra roles, System," I threatened silently, knowing perfectly well that the only currency I dealt in was food and my straight male dignity.