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chapter 7
Sylvester’s house looked quite poor even from the outside.
The couch he had seemed almost miraculous to exist at all, given how worn, old, and neglected it was. The house radiated a gloomy atmosphere.
Even the furniture inside reflected the same neglect.
There were shabby beds, mismatched tables, chairs with scratches, bookshelves with worn corners, dust-covered fireplaces, and art supplies scattered messily in the cramped space. That was all there was inside.
“I’m back.”
Finally, Sylvester returned. One side of the couch had sunk under his weight, and he draped the blanket he had brought around Velita.
“It’s a bit thick to be called a blanket… but I usually use it as one.”
Is it really a blanket, then? Velita looked at herself briefly before raising her gaze again.
“…Anyway, it’s clear it didn’t just appear out of nowhere. It came from there, and that’s clearly thanks to you.”
“But I didn’t really…”
Velita deliberately brought up the topic she wanted to leave buried, and Sylvester’s gaze shifted to her.
“There must have been something special about it.”
“…….”
“I know you’re a talented artist, and I know you painted that. You can tell by how messy your place is.”
“…….”
“So why did you paint me? Where did that portrait even come from?”
“Well, um…”
Sylvester rolled his eyes. His striking golden eyes peeked out from between his messy hair.
“…I got it at a bookstore. There’s one nearby, and the owner said someone had left it there.”
“Then why was it at a bookstore?”
“I’m not sure. I go there often to look for references, so maybe they thought I might need it.”
“So you just took it?”
“Yes.”
It was an absurd answer. Velita leaned back against the couch, blinking in disbelief.
How could a painting that had taken her whole life end up at some bookstore?
If someone had gone through the trouble to seal it, whether Kesis or Rastavan, surely those who trapped her should have kept it carefully.
“Then what about why you painted it?”
“…It’s a bit vague. I just felt I had to paint it the moment I saw it. I usually don’t paint people, but that one felt different.”
“I see…”
Velita furrowed her brows. But the fundamental question remained. He was answering all the side questions but not the main one.
Why did the original painting disappear, allowing me to appear?
“…Then nothing happened after you painted it?”
“…….”
Another silent response.
“Why can’t you answer?”
“Nothing special happened.”
“Nothing special…”
“…….”
“Sylvester.”
“Yes?”
“Who do you think I am?”
“The person from the painting.”
“I’m not human.”
“Then, the painting became a person…”
“A demon.”
“…I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
“And demons have short tempers.”
The instinct of a demon who cannot tolerate frustration subtly flared. Velita irritably shrugged off the blanket draped over her shoulders.
“Why the blanket…”
Her human form was fully revealed. Sylvester blinked, not realizing her intent.
But Velita’s claim that she had no patience was true. And so was the fact that demons are that way. Suddenly, a reddish glow erupted from Velita’s back.
Whoosh!
A massive black wing sprouted from her.
Originally, there were three pairs, but now only one tattered, worn-out pair remained.
“…….”
Sylvester’s mouth fell open at the sight. He could hardly believe what he saw.
“So tell me. What are you hiding?”
Velita leaned toward Sylvester, her smile hypnotic as she deliberately held his chin and closed his mouth. She even tapped lightly on his lips, urging him to speak.
“…….”
A sigh—or was it laughter?—escaped. Sylvester curled one side of his lips.
Their bodies pressed together.
Lips hovered inches apart as Sylvester gradually lay back, following Velita’s movements.
“How do you intend to handle this…”
“Hurry.”
As a result, Velita ended up straddling Sylvester, just like during their first encounter.
Sylvester’s ears turned red. His thin body slipped down the couch armrest. Velita placed her hand near his head.
Her flowing hair cascaded around them. For Sylvester, only Velita existed.
With his back against the couch, there was nowhere left to retreat.
He seemed to enjoy the situation, wearing a calm expression as if to see how far she would go.
“…….”
The silent pressure continued.
Sylvester hesitated, brushing his lips with his tongue provocatively. Velita’s gaze fixed on his wet lips.
Finally, Velita spoke first.
“You…”
Sylvester’s eyes narrowed mischievously. His large hands wrapped around Velita’s waist. He opened his mouth with satisfaction.
“……did it.”
“What?”
Velita leaned closer, unsure she heard correctly.
“….”
Their hair brushed against each other.
Breaths mingled, and Velita pressed closer, urging an answer.
Her ample chest pressed against Sylvester. With a lazy moan, he fiddled with her waist. Her neck flushed.
As if waiting for the moment, a clear confession spilled out.
“I kissed you.”
Time seemed to freeze.
Velita’s eyelids fluttered repeatedly, while Sylvester watched her reaction with a sly smile.
‘Did he really just say that?’
Her head felt dizzy. Velita looked down at the man in her arms, bewildered.
Two syllables buzzed in her head: kiss, kiss, kiss…
It was hard to believe. Did I really hear the word right? He kissed the painting? In what context…? Her brows furrowed out of habit.
“…You per—”
“Are you calling me a pervert?”
Strange. That was exactly what she wanted to ask, yet how did he know?
He must have good self-awareness. Velita stared piercingly at Sylvester.
“Then why did you do it?”
“Why do you think I did it?”
‘Seems your sense of boundaries is… very unusual.’
Velita tucked her wings back, the narrow space made them impractical.
She lay fully across Sylvester. His cheeks flushed deeper.
“Do I look strange?”
“Very much so.”
“I didn’t use my tongue. It’s just a painting, after all.”
Sylvester parted his lips and deliberately swirled his tongue, glistening with saliva.
“……!”
This shameless… Velita quickly grabbed both of his wrists.
He had been teasing with his tongue while caressing her waist from behind. Velita pulled his wrists; he let go weakly.
‘Really…’
What a ridiculous man.
When she straddled him earlier, he had gently responded, and now he let go when told. No wonder he had been so compliant before.
Velita held both his hands firmly to prevent further distractions.
“So why did you kiss me?”
“Well… there’s something I don’t want to tell you.”
Oh really…
Velita studied Sylvester carefully.
This dark man had used his genius abilities to draw her, then awakened her with a kiss on the painting.
‘Not a trace of magic or divine power, though.’
Could such a powerful seal really be broken so easily? And all it took was one kiss.
There must be more secrets hidden. Velita couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling.
“Hmm.”
Did he inherit some mystical power from his parents? Or even from distant ancestors?
Velita brushed Sylvester’s unruly hair from his forehead.
“What do your parents do?”
His hair fell neatly aside, revealing a face she hadn’t properly seen before.
‘Not an unpleasant face.’
Despite the gloomy first impression, Sylvester’s appearance was fine.
Not strikingly handsome, but there was something captivating.
A sharp nose, rosy cheeks. With proper care, even demons might envy him.
Sylvester chuckled as Velita stared. His red lips parted, and her assessment stopped.
“Even demons check out potential partners, huh?”
“…What?”
“Are you a desirable husband candidate? I’ve never heard of demons being curious about that.”
Velita was dumbfounded.
A ‘background check’? Why would I need that?
She realized humans and demons think differently. She only wanted to know the source of the power that broke her seal.
“Well, since you asked, I’ll answer one thing.”
Sylvester’s eyes twinkled mischievously.
“I don’t know.”
“Why not?”
“I’m an orphan.”
“Hmm…”
Velita’s voice lowered at the blunt answer. She tapped his wrist. An orphan, huh…
It didn’t seem like a lie. Given his home, normal parents would have been concerned. But Sylvester’s home showed no signs of that.
‘Then it’s hard to know what power freed me.’
She recalled the ‘parents’ she had seen before. Some had made wishes for their child’s success, whether it was to meet a great mentor, earn wealth, or marry someone after a decade of courtship.
“By the way…”
The body beneath her shifted. Velita gestured for him to speak.
“Are you going to stay there?”
“Why? Heavy?”
“No, not really.”
“Then why?”
“I’m worried people might misunderstand.”
“What misunderstanding?”
Sylvester twisted his bound wrist, and Velita’s hands were naturally drawn along.
“In a quiet village like this, rumors spread fast. If anyone sees… like a scandal…”
He licked her thumb with his teeth.
“…a scandal?”
Velita didn’t resist. He nibbled her finger.
“That would be nice.”
Knowing this was a clear temptation, Velita chuckled.
Sylvester’s eyes widened.
“Huh?”
“What did you just say?” he asked, staring at her.
“You said a scandal would be nice?”
“Yes.”
“Not a joke?”
“Yes.”
“…I don’t understand. You want to get involved with me?”
“That’s right.”
Sylvester stared blankly.
“Why…”
She needed to stop further questions. Velita released his restraint.
But to prevent him from asking more, she slipped her index finger into his open mouth. His tongue twitched.
“Now that I think about it, I realized you need to be held accountable.”
Saliva gathered. Sylvester tried to ask what she meant but stopped. Velita moved her fingers in his mouth, and he could only twitch his tongue.
“You woke me up. I have no place to go or power, yet you just called me here.”
Velita deliberately moved her fingers in his mouth, slick with saliva.
“So if we call it a scandal, it’s a good excuse. To outsiders, it looks like some woman is staying at Sylvester’s house—and she turns out to be his lover.”
In other words, she was shamelessly proposing to stay at his house and disguise it as that.
Yet the recipient of the proposal…
“….”
He licked her finger as if pleased.
“How’s that?”
If he reacted this way, she wouldn’t be rejected. Velita withdrew her hand, the stringy saliva snapping, and Sylvester finally swallowed.
“That’s a bold proposal… I’m a coward, so I can’t refuse.”
His lips gleamed with saliva as he grinned.
“Then starting today, I guess I have to play the role of a husband…”
“Husband?” Velita laughed lightly at the forwardness.
“You never said husband…”
Regardless, Sylvester lightly raised his hips.
“…If we do this, we have to be a married couple, right?”
It wasn’t an affair—he had no prior experience. His slow movements pressed between her legs, heat radiating.
