The Incubus System Chapter 763. Sleep and Cradle
"Why?" I whined.
After all, wasn't a demon lord at least entitled to a peaceful night of rest?
Puriel, however, seed unmoved by my pleas. She pouted. And I had to say it was kinda cute.
"I'm lonely," she admitted, her voice laced with a tinge of lancholy.
I stared at her in disbelief.
"So, you'd rather endure my company, the king of perverts, than be alone?" I cringed.
She nodded.
In that mont, it hit —Puriel's need for companionship was stronger than her worries about my shady reputation.
With a defeated sigh, I pressed my head against the ground, my body sprawled out.
"Give a break," I whined, my voice muffled by the surface beneath . I closed my eyes once more.
I closed my eyes and fell asleep again. This ti I didn't care anymore.
Even in this dream, I would sleep!
And no one could wake up!
The minutes ticked by in silence, the ambient air heavy with a muted stillness.
But just as I began to slip into the comforting slumber, Puriel's voice pierced the tranquility.
"Ethan, you aren't going to talk?"
"No, I'm tired," I responded, my voice laced with a mixture of fatigue and disinterest.
I refused to open my eyes.
But then, a gentle touch on my head disrupted the blissful mont.
Startled, my eyes fluttered open, and I turned towards Puriel, furrowing my brows.
"What do you want to do?" I questioned, a note of skepticism creeping into my voice.
Puriel t my gaze with a soft smile, her eyes brimming with a curious warmth.
"You need a pillow, right?" she inquired, her voice carrying a hint of playful innocence.
Her words caught off guard.
I raised an eyebrow, eyeing her.
"You want to be my pillow? Aren't you afraid of ?" I questioned, my tone laced with skepticism.
A pout ford on Puriel's lips, like a childlike disappointnt.
"A bit. But you're my only friend," she murmured.
Despite the irritation, I couldn't help but acknowledge her loneliness. I was indeed annoyed, but I couldn't bla her either.
She longed for companionship.
She was lonely. Her loneliness was so bad and she was desperate to have a friend.
In this case, it was .
I sighed, a mix of resignation and empathy coloring my tone.
"Fine," I conceded, my voice infused with a reluctant acceptance.
"Just promise one thing," I added. "Don't kick again."
Puriel cradled my head with gentle care, her thighs sliding beneath it, providing with an impromptu makeshift pillow.
The sensation was surprisingly soothing, her touch reminiscent of a mother tending to her child.
Her delicate fingers caressed my hair.
I reveled in the heavenly sensation. The tension and weariness began to dissipate.
Yet, Puriel couldn't resist to stay quiet.
"Let read you a goodnight story then." Her words carried an air of whimsical excitent.
My eyes snapped open.
'Seriously?! Why does she always have to ruin the peace with her stories?!' I scread in my head.
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