NOVPUB
Chapter 151: These Girls Sure Are Brave
Zayn woke with a groan, shifting slightly under a heavy weight on his chest.
His eyes fluttered open — and immediately widened. He was on his bed, yes, but that was where the list of "normal things" ended.
He was currently trapped.
Sandwiched between two warm, curvy bodies.
Elisse’s oversized soft chest was pressed directly against his face, warm and supple, the scent of her clinging shampoo flooding his nose.
He could barely breathe, muffled against her like a man drowning in marshmallow-scented clouds.
On his other side, Seren had her arms tightly looped around his torso, hugging him like he was her emotional support pillow.
Her face was buried in his shoulder, and her breath was warm on his skin.
"Can’t... breathe..." he wheezed, squirming slightly.
Of course, neither girl stirred right away. He groaned again and turned his head slightly, finally catching a breath that didn’t smell like Elisse’s perfume.
He didn’t even remember how they ended up like this.
They had just eaten dinner and chatted in his room last night, and —
Right. The girls had dozed off watching him polish his sword. Somehow they’d migrated into his bed during the night.
After a few more moments, Elisse finally stirred, blinking her bright blue eyes open.
Her gaze dropped to him, realizing exactly where she was and how close her body was to his.
Her cheeks turned pink, but before she could say anything, Seren woke up as well — saw the scene — and instantly squeaked in embarrassment.
"Ah — I — I — !" she bolted out of bed like her life depended on it, scrambling out the door with her face as red as a tomato.
The door slammed shut behind her.
Zayn stared at the door for a beat, then chuckled.
Elisse met his gaze again, this time less embarrassed and more amused. Her blush was still there, but instead of fleeing, she leaned forward.
Slowly her lips touched his, and he blinked in surprise as she deepened the kiss without a single ounce of hesitation.
She played with his tongue, her fingers lightly brushing through his hair.
Over the past month, Elisse had become dangerously good at kissing.
The kind of experience that made him wonder what she had been up to in her spare time but then she was always kissing him.
She tugged him closer, tasting him with a slow hum.
When she finally pulled away, she licked her lips.
"...You taste like stew."
Zayn blinked. "Well, I did have stew last night."
She giggled, and he smirked before reaching up and pinching her cheek gently.
"Go make breakfast, stew-taster," he said, flicking her forehead lightly.
Elisse stuck out her tongue at him but rolled off the bed with a little stretch, sauntering out of the room with the kind of sway that made him wonder if she was doing it on purpose.
Zayn sighed and got to his feet, dragging himself into the bathroom.
His hair was getting longer again, and it was annoying to brush every morning.
He twisted the faucet and splashed cold water onto his face, letting it run down his jaw before looking into the mirror.
The man staring back wasn’t quite the same Zayn from a month ago.
His hair had grown out past his ears and was now tied into a short ponytail using a leather band though like the system warned, there were a bit of pink parts.
It made his sharp jawline even more noticeable, and the crimson tint in his irises had grown darker — an effect of his increased soul energy usage, he suspected.
His features looked a little more mature, a little more... defined.
He was getting stronger. The battles, the training, the dungeon runs — it all left a mark.
"I look like I actually know what I’m doing," he muttered to himself, brushing his hair back and running a towel over his shoulders. "Not that I do though."
A small smirk crossed his lips.
Then he looked out the small window near the side of the bathroom, sunlight peeking through the wooden frame.
"I really wonder what Tobias is doing in the capital," he muttered, turning back toward the shower. "Hopefully not getting lectured by old kings or punched by jealous nobles."
With that, he stepped into the stall and turned the knob, letting the cold water splash over his skin to clear his head.
It was a new day.
And he was in charge.
...
Zayn pulled the black oversized shirt over his head, the fabric slipping down past his shoulders and halfway to his thighs.
The sleeves dangled way past his wrists, like the shirt had been meant for Bran and he had just decided to borrow it.
Still, he had to admit — oversized or not, it was ridiculously comfortable.
He threw on a pair of shorts and ruffled his hair a little before heading downstairs.
He could already hear faint chatter from below, the sounds of breakfast being prepared.
When he reached the stairway, he bumped into Kara.
She had just come out of the bath, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders, wearing a simple white singlet and black shorts that did her figure no favors — every curve of her hips and waist was perfectly highlighted.
Zayn slowed instinctively, but Kara caught him staring.
Her sleepy eyes curved into a sly, teasing grin.
Without warning, she pressed both hands against his backside, squeezing hard.
"—!" His brain short-circuited.
With a startled yelp, Zayn leaped down the rest of the stairs in one go, landing with a loud thud that shook the wooden floor.
He lay there for a moment, blankly staring at the ceiling.
"...Pervert," he grumbled after a beat, pushing himself up and turning toward Kara, who was sauntering down the steps with a smile that could only be described as criminal.
"What the hell do you even see in a man’s ass?" he demanded, still red-faced.
Kara only leaned down, her breath brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I think it’s hot."
