Powerless Boy is reborn as Lustful Elf
Chapter 57: Take off your top

Chapter 57: Take off your top

Alex stepped back from the kiss, his lips still tingling with the warmth of Inolda’s, and fixed her with a devious smile that curled like smoke.

Her pink curls framed her flushed face, her hazel eyes wide and flickering with a mix of defiance and something softer.

"No effect indeed," he said, his voice low and taunting, the words dripping with smug satisfaction as he leaned slightly toward her, daring her to bite back.

Inolda’s cheeks blazed a sudden, vivid red, the color clashing with her dry composure.

"Shut up," she snapped, rolling her eyes with an exaggerated sweep, her tone sharp but lacking its usual edge.

She turned her head, as if the two-horned horses munching nearby were suddenly fascinating, but the flush creeping down her neck betrayed her.

Alex’s grin widened, relishing the crack in her armor, the air between them thick with the aftermath of their kiss and the promise of more.

A low, mechanical hum interrupted them, the sliding gate of Elaris Hold whirring open, then gliding closed with a smooth, metallic clack.

The sound rippled through the compound, a subtle marker of Jusin and Griesla’s departure.

The animal side felt quieter now, the rustle of straw and distant snorts fading under the weight of their solitude.

Alex’s gaze slid back to Inolda, his smile turning suggestive, eyes glinting with mischief.

"I guess we’re really alone now," he said, his voice dropping to a velvet murmur, each word laced with intent as he tilted his head, watching her closely.

Inolda met his look, her blush still lingering but her expression softening.

"I guess," she replied, her usual sardonic bite gone, replaced by a quieter tone, wary, but curious.

Her hands fidgeted at her sides, fingers brushing the frayed hem of her tunic, and Alex caught the shift, his pulse quickening.

He stepped closer, closing the small gap, his smirk softening into something warmer. "Want to kiss again?" he asked, his tone playful but genuine, searching her face for a sign.

Inolda shook her head, a small, deliberate motion, her curls bouncing faintly.

Then, with a spark of boldness, she lifted her chin, her eyes locking onto his. "I want to see what you look like without a shirt," she said,

Alex froze mid-step, as if her words had struck him like a thrown stone.

The smirk that had been playing on his lips evaporated, replaced by a look of unfiltered disbelief.

His brow creased, eyes going wide, and for a beat too long, he just stood there, blinking.

"Huh?" he blurted, his voice cracking slightly as it leapt up in pitch, an unintentional betrayal of how thoroughly she’d caught him off guard.

The animal side of Elaris Hold continued its quiet chorus, the low rustle of hay as a two-horned horse shifted, the creak of old wood, and the flickering twinlights casting soft gold over the worn stone floor.

But to Alex, it all faded into a distant hum.

His world had tunneled, zeroing in on the girl in front of him, who stood with the kind of calm that made storms seem polite.

Inolda’s pink curls bounced lightly as she tilted her head to one side, casually appraising him like he was some mildly interesting puzzle she’d just decided to solve.

Her hazel eyes glinted, sharp and dry, like sunlight glancing off steel.

"I want to see what you look like without a shirt," she repeated, slowly and clearly, as if daring him to pretend he hadn’t heard it the first time.

Her tone was flat, almost bored, but beneath that lay a deliberate edge, a challenge woven into every syllable.

Her stance was relaxed, but her gaze didn’t waver. She knew exactly what she was doing.

And from the slight twitch at the corner of her lips, she was enjoying every second of watching him squirm.

She crossed her arms, the motion slow and deliberate, her shoulders rolling back as she leaned just slightly away from him, cool, composed, utterly unbothered. "Some girls are fine with a pretty face," she said, her voice dry as dust and twice as cutting.

"And yours isn’t bad." Her eyes swept over him with clinical detachment, like she was inspecting a horse before auction. "But I like a good body too. Call it a preference."

Alex blinked, momentarily speechless, then barked out a short laugh, sharp, surprised, and laced with disbelief. "You’re crazy," he said, shaking his head, more to himself than to her.

Her bluntness was a curveball he hadn’t seen coming, sharp and fast, leaving no room for witty deflection.

It hit square in the chest, knocking the wind from his confidence for a half second too long.

"Why are you stalling?" she shot back, arms still crossed, her weight shifting onto one leg with practiced indifference.

Her voice was dry as sunbaked stone, tinged with taunt. "That just means your body’s unattractive and you’re ashamed."

Her eyes glinted with amusement, daring him to flinch, to rise to the bait.

The words weren’t shouted, but they hit with precision, sharp-edged and surgical, designed to provoke.

Her lips twitched at the corners, the barest hint of a smirk breaking through the mask of mock boredom, as if she already knew he wouldn’t let the jab slide.

Her lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk threatening to break free, barely restrained as she baited him with practiced ease.

Her gaze didn’t waver, sharp and steady, holding him in place like a predator watching a challenge unfold, relentless, unblinking, and far too amused.

Alex scoffed, rolling his shoulders back as if her words had brushed something raw. His pride prickled beneath the surface, rising like heat under his skin.

"In your dreams," he shot back, the retort slipping easily from his lips, but there was a new edge to his voice, half wounded ego, half playful fire.

He straightened, standing tall, his stance shifting from relaxed to just a touch defiant, like a boy about to do something reckless just to prove a point.

"I’m proud of my body, and I don’t mind showing it," he went on, voice lilting into a cocky rhythm. "But it’s unfair, I show mine, and you don’t show yours."

His eyes glinted, that familiar spark of mischief flickering back to life.

Inolda didn’t flinch. Her eyebrow arched higher, carved with perfect disdain, her expression cool and unreadable.

"So you want to see my naked chest?" she asked, each word laced with scalpel-sharp sarcasm.

Alex only smirked, undeterred. If anything, her sharpness seemed to amuse him more.

He leaned in, just enough to close the space, the heat of his presence brushing hers.

His voice dropped to a husky murmur, rich with mischief. "Not naked, just topless," he said, his words slow and deliberate, a wicked gleam lighting his eyes.

She scoffed, a sharp little sound that cut through the charged silence, as if she couldn’t believe she was entertaining this. "Okay," she said at last, her voice dry but threaded with reluctant amusement.

The edge was still there, biting and skeptical, but beneath it, something playful stirred. "If you take off your top and I like it, I’ll take mine off too. Fair’s fair."

Alex barked a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair as he gave her a look that blended disbelief and delight.

"It’s an unfair exchange," he said, his voice low and smooth, curling with confidence. "But I’ll do it, only because I know you’ll like my body."

With a practiced flourish, Alex grabbed the hem of his tunic and tugged it upward in one smooth motion, the fabric slipping over his head and ruffling his dark hair before landing in a crumpled heap in his hand.

His bare chest emerged beneath the golden afternoon light, carved with lean muscle and a lazy kind of strength, broad shoulders, corded arms, and that defined abs rippled subtly as he moved, each breath teasing the tautness of his frame.

Alex stood there, his bare torso catching the warm breeze of Elaris Hold, his skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat that gleamed under the fading afternoon light.

His muscles flexed and shifted beneath his taut skin as he casually adjusted his stance, arms hanging by his sides, each subtle movement drawing attention to the breadth of his chest and the strength in his form.

He tilted his head slightly, a self-satisfied smirk curling at the corners of his mouth, eyes glinting with quiet triumph as he waited for her response.

"Well?" His voice was low, teasing, thick with challenge.

The way he asked the question seemed almost playful, but there was an undeniable edge to it, a challenge that hung between them like the weight of an unspoken dare.

Inolda’s eyes, though flickering with a touch of reluctance, couldn’t help but fall to his chest.

Her gaze swept over the hard lines of his abs, the way the light kissed his broad shoulders and the well-defined muscles that seemed to ripple with every subtle movement.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, the faintest hint of appreciation in her eyes, but it was quickly masked by the sharp edge of her usual dry humor.