Supreme Spouse System.
Chapter 185: The Girl Beside Him

Chapter 185: The Girl Beside Him

The Girl Beside Him

The corridor hummed gently with soft conversation and laughter as the five girls headed towards Leon’s room. Morning light poured through the high windows, raining golden spots on the marble floor as the sound of their footsteps was light.

"He’s probably still snoring," Aria said with a playful grin.

"Let’s see who he dreams about first," Rias said with a wicked glint in her eye.

Cynthia giggled. "Hopefully not himself.

Syra, ever the graceful one, reached the door first. "Ladies," she said with mock formality, placing a hand over her heart, "allow me the honor."

They all rolled their eyes affectionately.

With a light grip, she turned the handle. The latch clicked with a soft thud, and the heavy wooden door swung open.

Smiles continued to dance on their lips as they entered, looking forward to seeing their beloved Leon wrapped in bed sheets, likely still half-asleep and complaining about mornings.

But the instant their eyes met the bed... time stood still.

All five ladies halted mid-step. Eyes opened wide. Mouths dropped open. Hearts skipped a beat.

The atmosphere had changed.

Because their beloved Leon was lying on bed... but not by himself.

As bathed in the gentle light of morning, the giant bed seemed almost otherworldly—like it was hiding a secret. There was one figure stretched across the middle of it, unmistakably Leon: shirt unbuttoned at the top, the hard lines of his chest rising and falling with every slow breath. His golden eyes were closed, lashes lightly against his skin, and his black hair was rumpled in a manner that made him seem both untouchable and horribly human.

But it was the second figure whom cuddle him altered absolutely.

Snuggled in against his side—half-curled up against him, beneath his arm—was another figure. Thin. Silent. Breathing quietly. Her head under his chin, her face turned enough to disappear into the heat of his shoulder.

The blanket had moved just slightly askew on one side, showing dark black hair spilling like ink across his naked chest. A pale hand showed beneath the covers; fingers entwined with his.

A woman.

None of them said anything. No one shifted. For a moment, the only noise was the soft cadence of their breathing—Leon’s slow and easy, hers softer, warmer, as though molded by dreams.

-------

Later Night ––

The tumult was over—the gasping dash down the palace corridors, the stolen flight into moonlight. The night market had briefly and vividly shown them a moment of joy, abounding in laughter, color, and something perilously akin to hope. But that illusion was dispelled the moment Natasha appeared—her betrayal, her power, the unexpected battle that tried their minds as much as their bodies. It had left them both exhausted. Not only physically, but emotionally, deeply.

Fatigue had gnawed its way into their marrow.

And then, afterward, when they stood outside Leon’s door in the faint moonlight, he had whispered low, his voice quiet and guarded. "You can stay in my room tonight. It’s safer. And warmer."

Nova didn’t respond at once. Her gaze locked with his—keen, inscrutable, full of unspoken considerations. Then, after a pause, she nodded. "Just tonight," she said.

Within the room, the lantern light flashed softly against the stone walls. Leon had lit only one, sufficient to cast a soft golden light, leaving the shadows inviolate. The quiet between them wasn’t uncomfortable—it was delicate, like something holy neither was willing to violate.

Initially, they stayed politely apart. The bed was broad. They slept on either side, a hand’s breadth of distance between them. Not wide, but wide enough to sense the gap.

Yet, somehow, their hands met.

Initially, by accident—fingers touching, lingering, withdrawing. Then, gradually... intentionally. Their fingers wrapped around one another, softly but tightly, like roots spreading for something solid after a tempestuous, long period of uncertainty.

The room became still as sleep reached out and drew them down. Leon’s respirations grew slower, deep and steady. Nova’s lashes dropped drifted in dream land, her face relaxing. The world receded, but their proximity was still present.

Then, in the dead of night—without utterance—she rolled unconscious. Her body shifted automatically, searching for heat. Without thought, Leon rolled toward her, drawn by that unconscious tug only dreams can comprehend.

She breathed softly as he circled an arm around her. No hesitation, no resistance. Their bodies slipped into place, effortlessly, as if they were destined to occupy the space together in that moment.

She didn’t object.

He didn’t release.

By the first light of morning creeping across the horizon, the two were together no more. Under blankets, they had been one form—arms softly entwined, breathing harmonious, hearts finding a beat in the silence of common sleep.

They didn’t move.

They didn’t talk.

They just... stayed.

---------------

Present in the now—

The room’s silence was breached when Syra leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. Her voice soft and not wanting to wake Leon, but laced with incredulity. ".Is that who I think it is?"

No one replied instantly.

Their gazes were riveted to the girl huddled against Leon’s chest. Her face was buried against his, but even that didn’t matter—the fall of long black hair over his shoulder, the supple curve of her back, and the little hand laid lightly across his heart—still lightly clasped in his as if they had slept that way

Syra blinked, then leaned forward slightly, her voice a whisper but laced with incredulity. "Sister Mia is braver than I had imagined... sneaking into Darling’s bedchamber like this? Without even warning us?"

The other women stared, agog. For one heartbeat, they didn’t breathe.

A silent shock went between them, and the figure of a lovely girl with black hair and black eyes, with an adorable face, began to develop in their imaginations. But... Mia never styled her hair like that. And her body—though graceful—wasn’t exactly the same. She was nearer Rias’s age in real life... curvy, slender, with an otherworldly kind of beauty that made their hearts stumble. But this body was more curvy and appeared older.

Rias, a step behind the rest of them, blinked repeatedly. "Wait... that’s not Mia.

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