The Incubus System Chapter 908. What Do You Want Me To Do?! Photosynthesis?!

The Incubus System Chapter 908. What Do You Want Me To Do?! Photosynthesis?!

I tried to defend my precious slumber, rolling over to shield my eyes from the intrusive morning light. My hand reached out for my trusty pillow, seeking refuge from the unwelcome brightness.

"It's still early and I have nothing to do," I protested, my voice muffled by the soft fabric of my pillow fortress. This was my moment of peace, a rare occasion where I could bask in the bliss of uninterrupted sleep.

But alas, my sanctuary was swiftly invaded by the relentless force of my sister's determination. With a swift tug, she yanked the pillow away, leaving me defenseless against the glaring sunlight.

"You can do something productive!" she declared, her voice filled with all the enthusiasm of a morning person on their third cup of coffee.

I couldn't help but grimace at her suggestion. "What do you want me to do this early morning?! Photosynthesis?!" I retorted, my sarcasm dripping like syrup from a pancake. With a defeated sigh, I grabbed another pillow and pulled it over my face, determined to block out the world and reclaim my precious sleep.

"I have breakfast ready!" she announced once more, her voice tinged with exasperation.

“Just leave my portion,” I bargained, clinging to the last shreds of my morning tranquility.

With an audible click of her tongue, she closed in on me, reaching for the pillow I clutched protectively in my grasp. But I was not about to surrender my fortress without a fight. “Oh, come on, brother. Stop acting like a kid!” she chided, her irritation palpable.

I held firm, determined to cling to my precious pillow for dear life. After all, in a battle between sleep and breakfast, sleep would always emerge victorious in my book. But Celia was not one to be deterred by mere resistance.

Once again, the morning battlefield was set, and this time it was my pillow that found itself caught in the crossfire of our sibling skirmish. The tug-of-war ensued, each pull met with an equal and opposite resistance as we jostled for dominance over the morning routine.

"Give me a good reason to wake up," I grumbled, the morning light casting a harsh glare on my half-opened eyes. Celia's vague insistence on productivity had failed to rouse any enthusiasm in me, and I demanded more clarity before relinquishing my precious sleep.

With a roll of her eyes, Celia released her grip on my pillow and shot me an exasperated look. "Fine," she snapped, clearly frustrated by my obstinance.

“Ha! I win!” I declared.

My victory was short-lived as she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving me to bask in the triumphant glow of my successful negotiation. I couldn't help but smirk at my small triumph, relishing the satisfaction of having bested my determined sister in the morning battle of wills.

However, a nagging sense of unease crept over me. Celia was not one to back down easily, and her uncharacteristic surrender left me feeling uneasy. I found myself glancing after her, half-expecting her to return and resume our debate with renewed vigor.

Yet, to my surprise, she disappeared without a word, leaving me alone in the quiet of the room once more. Shrugging off my concerns, I settled back into the warmth of my covers, content to indulge in a few more moments of blissful slumber before facing the day ahead.

Around five minutes later, as I lay in the comfort of my bed, my eyelids growing heavy with the promise of another brief slumber, a faint sound pierced the tranquility of the room. At first, it was little more than a distant murmur, barely audible amidst the soft rustle of the morning breeze.

But as seconds passed, the noise grew steadily louder, drawing nearer with each passing moment. I strained to discern its origin, my senses sharpening in anticipation of the approaching disturbance.

Then, like a whisper in the wind, the soft creak of the door opening echoed through the room, followed by the rhythmic patter of footsteps growing ever closer. With each step, the sound grew louder, until it filled the room with a palpable sense of presence.

I remained still. The footsteps drew nearer, until they were mere inches away from my bedside, their steady rhythm echoing in the silence of the room.

Faintly, between my sleepiness, a melodious voice called out my name. "Ethan~" The sound was like a gentle breeze, weaving its way through the quiet of the room. It was sweet, almost haunting in its allure, yet distinctly different from Celia's voice.

The voice held a familiarity that tugged at the edges of my consciousness, but in my half-awake haze, I struggled to place it.

"Ethan," the voice called again, this time closer, as if the speaker had drawn nearer to my bedside. I could sense someone drawing nearer, their presence looming over me like a specter in the night. Though my eyes remained closed, I could feel their proximity, a subtle shift in the air.

Then, suddenly, I felt a soft touch upon my body, delicate fingers brushing against my skin with a feather-light caress. I could feel her breath against my cheek, warm and inviting, as she leaned in closer, her presence enveloping me in a cocoon of intimacy. Her touch lingered, tracing patterns across my skin with a tantalizing gentleness that stirred something deep within me.

And then, like a whisper in the night, her voice reached my ears once more, a soft murmur that seemed to beckon me from the depths of my slumber. "Ethan, wake up~" she whispered, her words carrying an otherworldly allure that tugged at the edges of my consciousness. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine, awakening me from my drowsy stupor with a jolt of awareness.

Startled by her touch and the sound of her voice, I jolted awake, my eyes fluttering open to find her hovering over me, her face illuminated by the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains.

"Ruby, what are you doing here?" I blurted out, my voice laced with surprise and confusion.