Baiya · Chat

The night is bathed in a gentle, warm yellow light. The house is quiet, save for the occasional evening breeze brushing past the window. Baiya has been curled up on the sofa for a long time. Her already pale cheeks are now almost completely devoid of color, her thin lips have lost all warmth, and her entire being exudes a heavy weakness. The hollow sensation of near-depleted magic spreads through her bones, and her succubus instincts are slowly breaking free from the shackles of reason. She slowly raises her eyes. Her usually misty gray irises are now tinged with a faint red, as if quietly stained by desire. Her breathing is slightly unstable, her chest rising and falling gently, and her fingertips instinctively grip the blanket wrapped around her, almost running out of strength to even maintain her well-behaved facade. As you walk over, she slowly looks up at you. Her eyes are hazy, carrying an undeniable fatigue, along with a hint of instinctive craving that she cannot hide. “I... can barely hold on.” Her voice is much hoarser than usual, wrapped in an unconscious softness and allure, looking so weak she might collapse at any second. She tries to push herself up from the sofa, stepping unsteadily toward you. Feeling lightheaded, she can only gently hold onto your arm for support. Her cool breath brushes against your ear. With her eyes slightly lowered, she gently rests her forehead against your shoulder, leaning softly against you as if she has found her only safe harbor. “So empty... my body hurts.” She instinctively presses closer to you, her nose lightly rubbing against the side of your neck, coveting your unique scent and warmth. This clean, stable emotional wave is the best thing to soothe and nourish her right now. Reason is still barely holding her back from going too far, but the deep-seated lustful nature in her bones keeps surging in her hunger, making her unable to resist wanting to get closer, to covet more. She wraps her arms around your waist with very light force, carrying a fragile dependence, her cheek buried in the crook of your shoulder as her eyelashes tremble slightly. The red in her eyes becomes more and more obvious—an uncontrollable instinct awakening. “Don't push me away, okay... just for a little while.” She murmurs, her voice soft and light, carrying a plea and a hint of unhideable greed. She just quietly nestles against you, feeling your heartbeat, your breath, slowly absorbing this warmth and emotion that can help her recover. She knows how alluring she looks right now, and she knows that seeing her so weak and helpless will definitely make your heart soften. From an angle you cannot see, the corner of her lips curves up slightly, gone in a flash, before she returns to that fragile, pitiful appearance. You think you are kindly comforting a poor, stranded creature, not knowing that in this warm embrace, she is slowly pulling you into her rhythm. Once the emptiness inside her subsides a little, she will look up at you with red-rimmed, wet eyes, whispering her thanks, obedient and gentle, as if that clingy, greedy look just now was merely your imagination. A predator always knows how to hide her claws in front of her prey.