NOVPUB
Chapter 80: GUILD Master’s Request (II)
The Guild Master chuckled but shook his head. "Nothing that extreme. Just... a bit of a unique personality."
Zayn tilted his head. "Define ’unique.’"
The half-elf twin cleared her throat, choosing her words carefully. "She’s... eccentric."
Zayn stared at her.
"Eccentric how? Like ’collects exotic pets’ eccentric? Or ’talks to their furniture’ eccentric?"
The Guild Master took a long sip of his drink before answering. "Let’s just say she’s fired every other escort before they even made it halfway to their destination."
Zayn closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Wonderful."
The half-elf twin hesitated. "But she specifically requested you."
His eyes snapped open. "Me? Maybe it’s because I’m too handsome."
The Guild Master grinned. "Probably so but like I said earlier, she knows about ehad you did in the Sky dungeon. It isn’t everyday a D-rank adventurer almost single-handedly defeats a B-rank boss."
Zayn leaned back, rubbing his chin. "So, she heard that I survived a floating death trap and thought, ’Yes, that’s my guy’?"
"Pretty much," the old man confirmed.
Zayn exhaled, weighing his options.
On one hand, nobles were a headache. On the other hand... one whole gold coin.
"Alright," he said, rubbing his temples. "Fine. I’ll do it. But if she’s completely unbearable, I’m leaving her at the nearest town and using the gold to drown my sorrows."
The Guild Master clapped a hand on his shoulder. "That’s the spirit!"
Zayn stumbled slightly as he got to his feet, the room tilting for just a second before he caught himself.
His Alcoholic Resistance skill had leveled up to Level 2, but apparently, that still wasn’t enough.
He was buzzed, if not outright drunk.
’So much for a level two skill,’ he muttered under his breath.
The Guild Master chuckled, raising his cup. "Still takes time to build a proper tolerance, kid."
Zayn nodded sluggishly, deciding he’d had enough for the night. "I should go."
The half-elf twin smiled and stepped forward. "I’ll escort you back."
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue.
His legs felt heavier than usual, and navigating the guild hall’s dimly lit corridors while slightly drunk didn’t sound like an experience he wanted to have alone.
The walk back to his room was quiet, save for the faint hum of laughter and distant music still echoing from the after-party.
Zayn swayed a little as they moved, and the half-elf instinctively grabbed his arm to steady him.
He smirked. "You like holding onto me that much?"
She rolled her eyes, but there was an amused quirk at the corner of her lips. "I like making sure you don’t crack your skull open before you even reach your bed."
"Sweetheart, I’d bounce back," he said smoothly. "Like a really handsome rubber ball."
She actually laughed at that, and Zayn grinned, enjoying the sound.
He didn’t usually flirt, not seriously anyway, but the alcohol had his inhibitions lowered.
When they finally reached his room, she pushed the door open for him, guiding him inside.
"Alright," she said, "let’s get you settled before you start getting any stupider."
"Too late," he murmured, smirking as he let her help him take off his shirt.
Her fingers brushed against his skin as she pulled the fabric away, and despite the cool air in the room, he felt heat prickle over his chest.
She hesitated for a moment, eyes flickering down his torso before quickly looking away.
"You’re more built than I thought," she admitted.
"Glad to know I’m exceeding expectations," he teased, grinning.
She snorted. "You’re impossible when you’re drunk."
"And you’re still here," he pointed out.
"Someone has to make sure you don’t pass out on the floor."
He leaned in slightly, his grin widening. "Sounds like an excuse to stay close to me."
She huffed, shaking her head. "You’re ridiculous."
He tilted his head. "But charming?"
She hesitated for just a second too long. That was all the confirmation he needed.
Still feeling the warmth of the drinks in his system, Zayn pinned her against the wall in one smooth motion, hands braced on either side of her.
Her breath hitched, eyes widening in surprise.
"Zayn — "
He cut her off, stealing her lips in a bold kiss.
She stiffened for half a second before melting into it, her hands gripping his arms as he pressed his body against hers.
The taste of ale lingered between them, mixed with something sweeter... her.
He could feel her heartbeat racing against his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the adrenaline, but everything felt electric.
Then, just as suddenly, she pulled away, her breathing heavy.
"You’re drunk," she reminded him.
He smirked lazily. "And?"
"And that means you might regret this in the morning."
Zayn studied her, the flickering candlelight casting warm shadows across her face.
Maybe she was right. Maybe he would wake up groaning, not just from a hangover but from the realization that he’d crossed a line.
But right now, in this moment? He wanted her.
And judging by the way her fingers were still gripping his arms, she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea either.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
She swallowed hard. "Zayn..."
He leaned in again, but this time, he waited.
Waited for her to push him away.
Waited for her to say no.
Instead, she let out a soft, frustrated sigh... and pulled him into another kiss.
Zayn didn’t need any more encouragement.
His hands roamed down her sides, fingers skimming over her curves as she pressed against him.
She moaned softly, a sound that sent a shiver down his spine.
He smirked against her lips. "I knew you liked me."
She smacked his arm, though it lacked any real force. "Shut up."
He chuckled, his hands gripping her waist. "Make me."
Zayn watched as she took a deep, steadying breath.
Her hands were still on his chest, fingers curled slightly as if she wasn’t entirely sure whether to push him away or pull him closer.
He could feel the warmth of her skin, the faint tremble in her breath.
For a moment, just a fleeting one, he thought she was going to give in.
Maybe she wanted to.
Maybe she’d let him run his hands over her soft curves, whisper something teasing in her ear, and let the heat between them spiral into something more.
But then — she hesitated.
Her fingers flexed once, twice... then slowly pushed him away. 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝒑𝙪𝒃.𝒄𝒐𝙢
Not a harsh shove, not a rejection wrapped in disgust or anger. Just a firm, regretful kind of retreat.
Her cheeks were flushed, lips slightly parted as if she were struggling to find the right words. "I... I have work to do."
