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The Seductress' Suitor

The Seductress' Suitor

Author:MIMIII

Updating

Fantasy

Introduction
Lilith Sanders, the reincarnated queen from the Underworld. She had no idea of her past and lived normally and humanly, but her past is running after her. Her responsibility as the regal queen of the land of the dead and as the inamorata of the greatest apostle of the divine realm.
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Chapter

  I was humming and dancing as I cooked my breakfast. The only recipe that I know how to cook without messing it up—sunny-side-up egg. It’s funny that I live alone but I can’t cook and I can even imagine myself dying out of starvation.

  Anyways, wearing my spaghetti strap Sando and soft shorts. I am dancing while listening to my favorite music—dance with me. Though I don’t have a talent for dancing I enjoy it, so who cares?

  “You’re up late today. It’s already noon and you didn’t have breakfast yet?” Oh, and I forgot to mention my nosy neighbor who can enter my house without my permission. Don’t ask me how ‘cause I don’t know too.

  “It’s Sunday, Isaac. My day off, my rest.”

  Isaac Mercury Delos Reyes, my neighbor. I don’t know his age and I don’t care. If you want me to describe his features—hmm. I won’t because that would mean I check on him and that’s not true. All I know is that he is handsome and he has this angelic voice but don’t let him talk.

  His words are thorns and sinful.

  He has these mesmerizing eyes but they’re always blank. One thing that I like about him was he never lied. I loved how honesty stuck into his soul and personality like gum.

  Sometimes, I compliment his honesty but most of the time I hate it. He says everything truthfully that he doesn’t care even if his honesty can hurt others.

  “Day off? I thought every day was your day off? You don’t seem to be working for me, though. Do you have a job?” He crumpled his forehead as he shot his inquiries to me.

  “Shut it, nosy neighbor. I work and I won’t tell you what my job is. You’re a creep, I wonder what you’ll do when you know,” I said while setting up my dining table.

  Putting two plates and two pairs of cutlery. I always count him whenever I’m cooking—not that I always do that though but I always do whenever he is in my house. It’s part of my culture to never let my guests just look at me while eating.

  Yeah, I’m that hospitable.

  “You know what? This egg is half raw and half overcooked. I now think that worms are living in your intestines because of this,” he said while shaking his head from to side.

  Because of what he said, I pulled his plate out of adrenaline. I gave him a dark and angry look.

  “Then don’t eat. You always come to my house without my awareness and do you know that I can sue you for that?” I exasperatedly told him.

  “What? You’ll sue me?” he smirked as if I said something really funny. What’s funny huh?

  “Why? Are you scared?” I unbelievably laughed. Who would think that this weird neighbor of mine is scared of getting sued?

  “I’m not. I’m just surprised that you just threatened me about suing me. Trespassing won’t happen more than twice if the owner of the property didn’t let the trespasser come,” he shrugged his shoulders and snatched his plate from my grip.

  I was left dumbfounded. This jerk is a genius and I can’t outsmart him. It’s annoying me!

  “What? You can’t eat your cooked food now too? Want me to eat it for you?” He winked at me. Such an arrogant person.

  “Shut up. I love how my cooking tastes and if you despise it then my door is open for your way out,” I rolled my eyes towards him.

  I picked up my spoon to start eating and god. I—myself can criticize my cooking too but not in the face of my arrogant neighbor here. My cooking tastes horrible and it made me crumple my face.

  “You’re crumpling your face. I see you dislike your cooking too. It’s just an egg for Pete's sake. How come it’s salty and bitter at the same time? I must say you are a magical cook,” he’s laughing his lungs out and it’s irritating me.

  I hate it when he laughs because of my mistakes. He’s too judgemental! Is he perfect, huh? Is he?

  I looked at him with displease.

  “You know what? You should leave,” I packed my plate and took his plate too without his approval. Why need his approval? He does nothing other than criticizing my cooking skills.

  I pulled him to stand and I pushed him to the way out. When we reached my living room, my black cat blocked the way out. He scratched Isaac on his leg and I’m telling you, my cat’s nails are long.

  I can’t cut them because he always gets mad whenever I try to. Merrick isn’t my pet and I’m not his mistress. He is the master of his own and I can’t help but think—why did I even adopt this proud cat.

  “So, Merrick is still guarding you up until now huh?” he said. I’m curious about what he just said but I just can’t focus on it because I saw his bleeding leg.

  “Are you okay?” I worriedly kneeled in front of him to check his wound that he got from my daring cat.

  I saw it bleed. The blood even ran through his scraped skin. I looked up to see his reaction. I’m looking for some certain reaction or emotion like hurt or what but I saw something different. The emotion that’s playing in his eyes is unprecedented.

  I can’t name it but I’m sure I didn’t see any hurt emotions in his blue and green eyes. He has complete heterochromia eyes and they’re expressing unknown emotion right now.

  “Hey,” I waved my hand on his face, still kneeling in front of his fresh wound.

  “H-hey?” He looks preoccupied. I wonder if the scratch affected some portion of his brain?

  “I said, are you okay? Your wound is bleeding,” I said, describing what I am seeing since I’m checking his wound.

  “Holy guardian of light, forgive me for sinning,” I heard him whisper under his breath like he was kind of suffering or something. Does the scratch hurt?

  “Hey,” I called his attention. “Are you praying, just now?” I curiously asked. I never expected Isaac to be the religious type of person. Yes, he doesn’t cuss but that is not expected since his attitude is kind of catty.

  “Why? What’s wrong with praying?” He said he was really confused about something.

  “Uhm, nothing,” I awkwardly said.

  I went back to check his wound. I touched it and when my fingers touched his skin, he flinched.

  “Did it hurt?” I ask with obvious worry in my eyes.

  He laughed. A laugh that you would hear when someone is getting pumped. Why?

  “Honey, there’s no wound that doesn't hurt. Have you ever had one?” He laughed, trying to mock me.

  I rolled my eyes. He’s got a point but he doesn’t need to shove it carelessly to my face.

  “And please, stand up. My mind is clouding with infinite sinful scenes now because of you kneeling in front of me and looking up to me as a god,” he awkwardly said while swallowing his saliva.

  At that moment only did I realize how awkward our position is and if someone were to come and visit my house. They’ll think lewdly when they see me and Isaac in this position.

  I hurriedly stood up and because of so much rush, I lost my balance. I was about to fall when I felt a strong and masculine arm wrapped around my waist. Isaac caught me.

  “Can you at least be mindful of your acts, young lady?” he asked.

  “What?” I asked cluelessly.

  “Nothing, just don’t do what you did to me today to anyone. Holy God, I might be a fallen angel if I saw you in that state with another gentleman,” he said.

  “Do you know how creepy that sounds from you?” I asked him.

  “It’s not creepy, you just don’t have a single clue about anything that’s happening around you. Tsk tsk! Poor thing,” he insulted me.

  “I’m not a thing, gosh. Come here! I’ll treat your wound,” I invited him to sit on my couch, and thankfully he didn’t put up an argument and followed me.

  When he sat on my couch, I left him to get my first aid in the nearest bathroom. I always hid my first aid kits in my bathroom and comfort room because I don’t want people to see my wounds if ever I have one.

  Bearing my kit, I went back to my living room to start treating his wound.

  “What’s that?” he said looking at the box that I am holding.

  “It’s a first aid kit, dumb.”

  I sat next to him and was about to reach for his leg when he stopped my hand midway. I looked into my eyes and I saw the hesitation in it. Is he scared of medication? I wanted to laugh at my thoughts.

  I trapped his hands in my left hand and immediately pulled his jeans upward to reveal his wounded leg but I was surprised to see that the bloody scraped part of his leg minutes earlier is now just a leg with a taint of blood!

  The wound is gone!

  “Where’s your scratch?”