Chapter 95: [COUCH IS REALLY COMFY]

’How am I going to do this?’

The elevator hummed as it climbed, a low, steady vibration that rattled through Eli’s bones. The soft golden light inside cast long, fractured shadows across the mirrored steel walls, their reflections moving in tandem like silent ghosts.

Eli stood stiffly at Kairo’s side, shoulders locked, palms clammy, every nerve in his body screaming at him to do something—anything—but his mind was chaos.

’Okay… think, think, think. Compliments aren’t gonna work on him. If I say “you’re handsome,” he’ll just… stare at me. And not in a good way. Just—stone-faced, void of emotion, like a goddamn gargoyle.’

He bit his lip, darting a glance at the taller man. Kairo didn’t move.

Not a single twitch.

The black-eyed hunter stood tall, posture perfect, his broad shoulders filling the coat draped over him like a mantle of shadow.

His reflection in the mirrored steel was so sharp, so still, it might as well have been another person entirely.

’I don’t think acting cute will work either. He’ll probably just glare, and if I push too far, he might actually use his abilities on me.’

His throat bobbed. The silence was unbearable.

Not awkward silence. Not casual silence.

This was the kind of silence that pressed into Eli’s ribs, coiling around his lungs until breathing felt like a sin.

’God, do I actually… prefer Caelen’s smug mouth over this? At least he filled the air with something. This—this is suffocating. It’s like I’m trapped in an elevator with a guillotine.’

The seconds stretched, heavy and brutal.

Finally—ding.

Eli flinched at the sound, his pulse jerking in his veins. He lurched forward, too eager to escape, nearly tripping over himself as the doors slid open.

The quiet, carpeted hallway of the top floor greeted them, lined with muted lights and pristine walls. It should’ve felt like safety, but with Kairo’s presence beside him, it felt more like walking into judgment.

His throat scraped dry when he forced the words out. “W-Welcome to my home…”

Kairo’s head turned, just slightly, those black eyes slicing into him for the briefest of moments. Sharp. Weighted. A look that pinned Eli to the spot, stealing his breath—

And then it was gone. Kairo’s gaze shifted back forward, unreadable as stone.

Not a word.

Eli’s lips twitched into something that was supposed to be a smile, but it came out wobbly, fragile.

’Great start. Totally nailed it. If I keep this up, I’ll die of embarrassment before the system even punishes me.’

His hands fumbled with the keys, metal clinking far too loudly in the quiet. He swore the sound echoed down the entire hallway, broadcasting his nerves to the world.

Click.

The lock yielded, the door swinging open to reveal the wide, gleaming expanse of his penthouse.

High ceilings. Glass walls stretching floor to ceiling, spilling the city lights like a river of stars across sleek black leather and polished steel.

Minimalist furniture that screamed wealth but felt cold, almost impersonal.

It looked perfect. Clean.

Mostly because Eli still was too cautious to touch everything Elione owned.

Eli stepped aside, forcing a gesture with one hand, half like a host, half like a very awkward butler. “…Come in.”

Kairo didn’t hesitate. His strides were slow but steady, deliberate, each step sinking into the carpet as though the penthouse belonged to him instead.

His presence swallowed the space whole, filling it until even the vast open room felt smaller, tighter, heavier.

Eli closed the door behind them, the soft click of the lock sealing him in with the hunter.

His heart pounded against his ribs like a trapped animal, his palms slick. He could feel the system’s mission looming, suffocating, heavy against the back of his skull.

’Okay. Showtime. I have to figure this out.’

Eli stepped into the wide expanse of the living room, his shoes sinking softly into the thick carpet.

The recessed lights glowed overhead, warm against the sleek edges of black leather couches, polished chrome fixtures, and glass tables so pristine they reflected the skyline like mirrors.

The city stretched beyond the massive windows, the buildings near them were tall.

But all of it felt smaller, dimmer, under the weight of the man walking in behind him.

Kairo moved with the same calm authority as before, his footsteps almost silent, but his presence filled the room like a storm cloud. Heavy. Unshakable.

The silence came with him, too—thick, suffocating.

Eli’s stomach twisted. His palms pressed against his thighs, smoothing out invisible wrinkles in his shirt as his eyes darted across the room, anywhere but the man beside him.

’Didn’t he say he wanted to talk? So why is he just… standing there like a silent executioner? Am I supposed to start? Is this how rich people talk to each other? Just—stare until the other person folds? I’m going to fold. I’m already folding.’

The quiet pressed harder, like invisible hands closing around his lungs. His pulse stuttered, his brain screamed for something—anything—to break the unbearable tension.

And then—before he could stop himself—his mouth betrayed him.

“Do you, uh… want a house tour?”

The words shot out sharp and desperate, ricocheting through the sleek room like a terrible joke told at a funeral.

Eli’s soul left his body instantly.

’Why. Why did I just say that?!’

But he doubled down anyway. Because that’s what you do when you dig your own grave—you keep digging. ’No, wait—this is how it works on those shows, right? The host always offers a house tour. Maybe this is actually… normal?’

His gaze darted to Kairo, panic rising like bile in his throat.

The hunter blinked. Once. Slowly. His black eyes narrowed just faintly, a sliver of scrutiny—or maybe judgment—before his voice came low, clipped, unreadable.

“…Alright.”

Eli nearly sagged in relief, air leaving his lungs in a shaky exhale. ’Oh thank God. That actually worked. I knew it. Rich people expect house tours. Totally nailed it.’

He spun toward the center of the room too fast, thrusting one hand out like a game-show host introducing the prize of the evening.

It was supposed to look confident, but it landed somewhere between awkward waiter and man suffering a stroke.

“This is… the living room.”

They were literally standing in it.

The words dropped flat, dead weight in the pristine air.

Eli’s face heated instantly, a flush crawling up his neck. He scrambled, words spilling out in desperation.

“Uh—and the couches are really comfy.” He slapped a hand against the nearest one for emphasis. It barely dented under his palm. “Like… really comfy.”

Nothing.

Kairo didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

Just silence.

Until—finally—he spoke.

“Great.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep