CHAPTER 455: DIPLOMATIC LOUNGE

Chapter 455 – Diplomatic Lounge

The moment the bathroom door shut behind him, he exhaled long and low, like he’d been holding it since appetizers.

Steam greeted him like an old friend. The overhead lights were dimmed, glowing a soft amber across the marble walls. The rainshower hissed gently, already on. He didn’t bother with music tonight. No playlist. Just silence. Just water. Just heat.

Lux stepped in.

And for a while, there was nothing.

Just the clean, heavy warmth of the water pounding down his shoulders. His muscles relaxed under the pressure, the smell of sandalwood soap curling in the air, smooth and faintly smoky. His fingers dragged through his hair, down his neck. He tilted his head back, letting the water drown out the noise in his mind.

Sira.

That damn Pride-born menace.

Her kiss still lingered on his lips. Her touch still burned on his hips. Her scent still haunted his skin like she’d marked him with something older than perfume.

He leaned into the tile wall with one arm braced, eyes closed, breath steady.

And then—

She was there.

Just like that.

A faint pulse of magic. A presence unmistakable. He didn’t even have to look.

She appeared through the mist like a hallucination carved out of arrogance and beauty. Naked. Of course.

Sira.

Wet hair already clinging to her back. Pride in every step. Her eyes glowed faintly from the steam, pupils sharp, like a cat stalking prey. Her lips curved in a smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"I know this isn’t the diplomatic lounge," she murmured, stepping closer, "but I needed you."

Her hands reached for his chest, smooth palms pressing against his skin with no hesitation, no apology. She tilted up and kissed him, soft and then hard, and then—

He was pinned.

Back slammed gently against the tile. Her body pressed into his like she was claiming territory. The water cascaded down both of them now, hot and heavy, hissing as it hit their skin.

Lux kissed her back. Of course he did.

How could he not?

She tasted like warm stormwinds and bitter-sweet rebellion. His hands gripped her hips instinctively, drawing her closer, heat swirling between them in fast-rising currents.

But—

There it was.

A flicker.

A pause.

Lux felt it.

Not on the surface—on the edge.

She was in the mood. Definitely. The way her hips moved, the way her nails trailed down his chest, the quiet little growl she made when his fingers dug into her thighs.

Yeah. She was ready.

But something wasn’t right.

Her aura pulsed wrong. Not weak, just... uneven. Not dangerous, but conflicted.

He broke the kiss.

Just barely.

Their foreheads touched. Water slid down her cheeks like tears. Not that she’d ever admit it.

"...Sira," he said softly, eyes meeting hers, "what is it?"

She didn’t look away. Not at first. But her hands dropped from his chest, drifting to rest lightly at his sides.

"You still mad?" he asked. "About the goddesses?"

She blinked slowly. "...Not really."

Lux tilted his head. "That sounded like a lie."

Sira exhaled, long and sharp. "I’m not mad. I’m..." She looked down, then back up. "Worried."

That stopped him.

"Worried?" he echoed. "That’s a new one. Since when does Pride get worried?"

She didn’t even slap him for that. Which was worse.

"Celestaria," she said. Just that. Quietly. Almost bitter.

Lux didn’t respond.

"She doesn’t see you as just Hell’s CFO," Sira continued, voice low. "Or the fancy demon playing diplomat with charm and contracts. She... I know she hides it. That damn passive-aggressive grace of hers."

Her eyes locked onto his. "She feels something."

Lux didn’t flinch. Didn’t argue.

He just stared at her.

Because yeah.

He knew.

Sira pressed her palm flat against his chest, right over his heart. Her voice softened, barely audible over the water. "And you know too, don’t you?"

Still, he didn’t answer.

"Lux..."

The way she said his name, it hit different. Hit deep.

"I’m not afraid of competition," she said. "You know I’m not. I don’t care if you kiss Mira or let Naomi lecture you while pinning you to a chair. I don’t care if Rava seduces you. I don’t even care if Lullaby naps on top of you like a blanket with mood swings."

Her nails dug in a little. "But this... this is different."

He raised an eyebrow. "Because she’s a goddess?"

"No." Her voice cracked slightly. "Because she might try to redeem you."

That... caught him off guard.

Sira stepped back, just enough that the water poured between them, dividing heat with steam. "Goddesses always want to fix things. And Celestaria? She’s the worst of them. Quiet. Strategic. Gentle. Forgiving."

She swallowed hard. "I’m not."

Lux’s gaze softened. "I don’t need you to be."

"But she’ll try," Sira said. "She’ll tell you that redemption is beautiful. That salvation is possible. That your sins can be forgiven if you just reach for the light."

She looked straight at him. "And I know you. You’ll entertain it. Just enough to make me afraid."

His lips parted. "Sira, I—"

She stepped close again, voice trembling but proud. Always proud. "I like the monster you are. I like your greed. Your rage. Your filthy ambition and your terrifying logic and the way you look at people like they’re assets or problems to solve."

She cupped his face. "I love the part of you that doesn’t want to be saved."

Silence.

A long, long silence.

The water kept falling. Her breath fogged against his skin.

Lux finally spoke, voice barely a murmur. "You think I’d let her take me?"

"No," she said. "But I think if anyone could? It’s her."

He kissed her then. Not out of desire, but conviction.

Firm. Slow. Final.

When they broke, he rested his forehead against hers again. "I won’t be taken," he said. "Not by light. Not by law. And especially not by guilt."

Sira’s lashes fluttered. "...Promise?"

"I promise," he said. "If I burn, it’s by choice. Not by grace."

Her lips curved. Not quite a smile. Something deeper.

"Good," she whispered. "Then maybe I won’t murder a goddess tonight."