Chapter 138. Wartime Hygiene
Succubi Chapter 138. Wartime Hygiene
Evelyn yelped as I dragged her halfway down the dorm hallway like we were escaping a burning building. Her uniform flared behind her, her grip on my hand surprisingly tight.
“We’re not that late, Evan!” she gasped between half-laughs and half-struggles to keep up.
I didn’t reply. I was focused. Like a war general. Except the only war I was fighting was against tardiness and personal shame.
Because even though I’d made it out of the dorm alive, there was one massive issue.
I hadn’t showered.
Yeah. I’d brushed. Deodorized. Sprayed a puff of cologne from the bottle’s soul. But the fact still lingered like an ancient spell waiting to be triggered.
I wasn’t fresh.
And while I may be hot, charming, magically talented, and lowkey built like a protagonist with two tragic backstories…
I still knew better than to walk around in close quarters like that wasn’t a problem.
So the moment we hit the main academy halls and slowed down, I… subtly let go of Evelyn’s hand.
She didn’t seem to notice at first.
We kept walking side by side toward the auditorium, where all first semester classes were being held today. Mixed class. Four houses. Big crowd. We had five minutes left.
Totally manageable.
Except… I was self-aware enough to keep about half a meter of distance between us.
Because, again.
No shower.
My dignity mattered more than this moment.
Still, Evelyn walked happily beside me, her expression bright, hair tied up, uniform crisp and cute. The faint scent of herbal shampoo floated off her like a commercial. It wasn’t even fair. She was glowing.
Me? I was glowing too. In sweat. But I called it “stress shimmer.”
Then it started.
She took a small step closer.
I stepped away again.
She blinked, slightly confused.
She tried again. Just a little nudge.
I did a casual swerve like I was checking the window. “Oh look at that decorative vine growing there. Huh.”
She tilted her head. “Are you… avoiding me?”
“Nope,” I said too quickly.
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
She narrowed her eyes and moved closer again.
I dodged left like it was a combat drill.
She stopped.
Dead in her tracks.
“Wait…” she said, voice soft. “Are you mad at me?”
I froze.
“No,” I said carefully, already walking faster. “No no. Not mad. All good.”
“Then… is it something I did?”
Her footsteps matched mine.
Why were her legs so fast? She was like half my size but moved like she trained with assassins.
“No,” I said again. “It’s not you.”
“Then what is it?”
“Nothiiiing,” I muttered, trying to maintain a speed that would make it harder for her to hear me breathe.
But she was suspicious now.
I could feel it.
I tried walking faster.
She walked faster.
I turned a corner toward the auditorium.
She practically glided.
I was sweating more.
This wasn’t helping.
Not just because I already smelled like deodorant lies and dreams, but because I could feel the drama tension building like an epic cutscene.
And then.
It happened.
I reached the front of the auditorium building.
Right there, in front of the large arched entry with gold rimmed doors and ivy crawling up the sides. Students from all four houses walking by in groups. Laughing. Talking. Whispering. Some standing in uniform, others adjusting their mana scarves or polishing their gear.
And Evelyn?
She moved in front of me.
Fast.
Blocked my path.
Then shoved me gently against the wall.
Her palm hit beside my head.
Hard.
It was something I had only ever seen in romance drama trailers or movie previews.
Why trailers?
Because I wasn’t a fan of romance.
So I never watched the full thing.
I blinked.
Brain: Oh no.
Body: Oh yes? Oh, wait! We are in public!
Mouth: “Evelyn?!”
Every first-year student within a ten-meter radius turned.
Some gasped.
Some stopped walking.
Some whispered.
“Oh my god, is that Evan?”
“Is she going to confess?!”
“Wait, are they dating?”
“Shhh shut up, this is better than breakfast.”
I wanted to slide into a shadow portal and disappear forever.
But Evelyn?
She didn’t care.
Not one bit.
Her eyes locked on mine, intense and focused. Her cheeks were pink. Not shy pink. Determined pink.
“You’re avoiding me,” she said quietly.
I shook my head slowly. “I swear I’m not.”
But as Evelyn leaned a little closer, I did the only logical thing my panicked, unwashed brain could think of.
I crabwalked.
Yes. Full-on crabwalk. Sideways shuffle, like some normal decent boy trying not to bump into the love interest while also hiding the fact he smells like regret and half a spray of cologne.
Her eyes followed me like a hawk.
But then her other hand shot out.
-Smack!
Right beside my other shoulder, blocking the escape route.
I froze.
Yeah.
I was trapped now.
“Then why are you dodging me like I’m contagious?”
“Because—”
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, eyes flickering with worry now.
My brain panicked.
I wanted to say it. I wanted to tell her that I hadn’t showered and I was 99% sure I smelled like sleep, stress, and deodorant desperation. But my pride… my demon blood… it was screaming.
‘Don’t admit that! You’re supposed to be seductive! Mysterious! Cool!’
But she kept looking at me with those big bright eyes.
And I was so close to giving in.
Then.
Like a curse.
Leon showed up.
“Yo!” he called out from behind the crowd. “What’s going on? Why is everyone standing—?”
He reached us.
Stopped.
Sniffed.
Then casually leaned in with his stupid innocent werewolf nose and said…
“Why do you smell like… you forgot to shower?”
The silence.
Was.
Deafening.
My soul left my body.
Evelyn blinked.
Leon blinked.
I stared at him like I wanted to end his entire bloodline.
“Bro,” I said, voice dead. “Seriously?”
“What?” Leon looked genuinely confused. “I mean, you usually smell good. But right now it’s like... um… panic cologne and sleep. And regret. You okay?”
I didn’t reply.
I just glared.
Evelyn’s hands slowly dropped from the wall.
She was biting her lip.
Trying so hard.
Not to laugh.
She failed.
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