Damien left to his room immediately, closing the door softly behind him. The hallway light clicked off, leaving only the faint blue glow from his PC monitor spilling under the door.
Inside, he exhaled and muttered to himself, "So she slept already, huh? That's surprisingly pretty early." He glanced at the closed door, then shook his head. "Whatever. Not the main issue. Where the hell will I find another E-rank?"
He sat heavily on the edge of his bed, scratching the back of his head, fingers raking through his dark hair in frustration.
The room felt smaller than usual tonight the single bed, the cluttered desk with streaming gear, the faint hum of the PC fan. Seven days until the entrance exam.
Seven days to find someone else who could trigger the bond properly. Mira was right here, sleeping on his couch, but she had drawn the line. Hard.
Think, Damien. Think. There has to be someone else. Another low-Potential girl who got screwed today. Or tomorrow. Or.
His phone vibrated on the bed next to him, screen lighting up with a soft chime.
He picked it up, squinting at the notification.
Message from: Merry (Maribel Sinclair)
"Hello Damien. It's me, Merry from your stream."
Damien's eyebrows shot up. I knew this would happen… but isn't this girl too fast?
He stared at the name for a second, then typed back.
Damien: Hi.
The reply came almost instantly.
Merry: So it's really Damien, huh? I knew it. I couldn't prove it, but now I know.
Damien exhaled through his nose, leaning back against the headboard. He got straight to the point.
Damien: So why did you message me? I don't think I know you.
Three dots appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again. Finally:
Merry: It's me, Maribel Sinclair. You know the short girl.
Damien stared at the screen. A snort escaped him before he could stop it.
Pfft....
He quickly muffled it with his hand, shoulders shaking once. Maribel Sinclair? The short one with the long black hair and green eyes? Of course. Flat as a board, not like Aurabell… but Sinclair? I don't know that name.
But if Merry is dropping millions on superchats like it's nothing… hidden family? Old money? Some conglomerate kid keeping a low profile?
He looked back at the screen, thumb hovering.
Damien: Yeah, I know. I've seen you obviously. We're in the same class.
He hit send.
The reply came faster this time.
Merry: Then you know I'm not joking.
I want to meet you. Tomorrow. Noon. The gold-sign cafe in District 1.
I have something to show you about the awakening video.
And… maybe a gift for my favorite streamer.
Don't make me wait, Dami~
Damien stared at the message, expression flat but eyes narrowing slightly.
This escalated fast.
He glanced toward the door again, half-expecting Mira to be standing there listening. But the house was quiet only the soft sound of her breathing from the living room sofa.
He typed back one last time.
Damien: I'll think about it.
No reply came immediately. He set the phone face-down on the bed and rubbed his temples.
Maribel Sinclair. Merry. Rich, obsessive, and now she knows my face, name, and house number somehow. Great. Just great.
He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling
Damien left the message unread after that, setting his phone aside with a final glance.
The room was dark, only the faint glow from his PC screen casting long shadows on the walls.
He fell asleep immediately, head hitting the pillow without another thought, exhaustion from the day's chaos pulling him under fast.
Outside in the living room, Mira woke up suddenly, her purple eyes fluttering open in the dim light.
The blanket was tangled around her legs from tossing in her sleep. So he slept already, huh? He sleeps pretty early, I see.
She sat up slowly, rubbing her arms against the chill in the modest house. The clock on her phone read just past midnight. The sofa creaked under her weight as she glanced toward Damien's closed door.
She bit her lip, mind racing back to the stream she'd spied on the money, the fans, his unguarded laugh. And that Merry girl, throwing millions like it was nothing.
He isn't so bad, but… can't he phrase it a bit more formally? Outright saying 'sex' like that… A small smile tugged at her face despite herself, a mix of embarrassment and curiosity warming her cheeks.
Quietly, she stood and padded across the floor, her bare feet silent on the cool tiles.
The door to his room was slightly ajar she pushed it open just enough to slip inside. Damien lay there, breathing steady, face relaxed in sleep under the faint blue light.
She sat beside him on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly. Her heart pounded, but he didn't stir.
Leaning forward, her black hair falling like a curtain, she whispered in his ear, breath warm against his skin.
"Thanks." The word hung in the air for a moment. Then, impulsively, she moved closer, her lips brushing his in a tentative kiss.
It deepened before she could stop herself her tongue slipping inside, exploring with a mix of nervousness and daring. His lips were soft, unresponsive in sleep, but the contact sent a jolt through her, her face flushing hot.
She stepped back quickly, hand over her mouth, eyes wide. So he is a deep sleeper, huh? That's good.
She slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her, face burning crimson as she dove back under the blanket on the sofa. Sleep didn't come easy after that.
Next morning, Damien woke up early, the first hints of dawn filtering through the small window. He stretched, muscles sore from the bed, and glanced at his phone. No new messages from Merry.
Ahh, it's already morning, huh? He moved to the hall where Mira was sleeping on the sofa, her form curled under the blanket, breathing even. Whatever.
He headed to the kitchenette, brewing coffee with practiced motions the machine gurgling softly, the rich aroma filling the small space. He poured a mug, sipping it black as he got ready for the meeting, buttoning a clean shirt and checking his watch.
Mira woke up from the sound, the clink of the mug on the counter pulling her from a light doze. She sat up, hair tousled, rubbing her eyes.
So he woke up already, huh? From his reaction… he doesn't know anything. That's better. She smoothed her clothes, trying to look composed.
"Mira," Damien said, noticing her stir. "You're up."
Mira spoke, her voice quieter than usual, purple eyes locking onto his dark ones like she was forcing the words out.
"You can form the bond again, right?"
Damien paused mid-sip, setting the mug down slowly.
He sat in the chair beside the sofa, handing her the coffeewarm steam curling between them like a fragile truce.
"I can. Why do you ask? You said you don't want to bond after hearing the condition yesterday."
Mira's fingers tightened around the mug, heat burning her palms. She stared into the black liquid, avoiding his gaze. Last night flashed in her mind the stolen kiss, his sleeping lips soft under hers, the jolt of warmth that had lingered on her tongue long after she fled the room.
I kissed him. And he didn't even wake up. But I felt… something. Power. Safety. If that's just a taste…
Her stomach twisted. No. I hate this. I hate that I'm even thinking it. Mother would laugh from her mansion if she saw me now begging a quiet boy from District 9 for help. But if I don't… I'll be nothing. Forever. No academy. No revenge. Just another E-rank failure on the streets.
She swallowed hard, cheeks flushing deeper.
"Well… I realized I can't do anything without your help." Her voice cracked slightly. "I need strength to get revenge. To survive. And I need to get stronger in 6 days before the exam to get into a academy. So… help me."
Damien watched her closely, expression calm but eyes searching. Yesterday she was furious called it selling her body. Now she's asking? Or just desperation hitting harder in daylight?
"But you know the condition, right? It's se"
Mira's head snapped up, face scarlet. "Don't just don't say it out loud like that!" She cut him off sharply, voice trembling between embarrassment and anger. Her free hand clenched the blanket. "I know what it is. I just… I need the buff. That's all."
Damien leaned back slightly, giving her space. "Okay. It will help me too. The buff lasts 2 days."
Mira exhaled shakily, setting the coffee down before she spilled it. Her heart hammered so loud she was sure he could hear it.
"Then… let's do it." She paused, voice dropping to almost a whisper. "But not right now. I need… time. To prepare. Mentally." She looked away, cheeks burning. "Tonight. Or tomorrow. Just… give me today."
Damien studied her for a long moment the way her shoulders tensed, the faint tremble in her fingers, the stubborn set of her jaw despite the blush.
"Alright," he said finally, voice even. "Whenever you're ready."
The room fell quiet except for the soft drip of the coffee maker in the kitchen.
Mira pulled the blanket higher, hiding her flushed face, mind racing with dread, determination, and something dangerously close to anticipation.