An Unwritten Story [LitRPG, Evil MCs]

[Blink]

As Noa activated his skill, teleporting from roof to roof, the world blurred into a series of fractured, starlit snapshots. Seliora’s dress caught in the slipstream of their travel, the white silk billowing with each shift as one of her hands rested lightly against his shoulder.

“Say, how is your relationship with my sister going?” she asked, looking up at him, her crimson eyes shimmering with curiosity.

“First Mom, and now you. Why do all of you guys want to know about that?” Noa asked, looking down at her.

“She’s not making any trouble for you, is she?” Seliora chuckled softly, looking forward. “She can be... a handful when she isn’t watched.”

“It’s actually quite the opposite,” Noa replied with a smile, his gaze fixed on the approaching skyline. “And when she does cause trouble for me, she’s cute.”

“That’s good to hear,” Seliora whispered to herself, wearing a satisfied, private smile—a secret swallowed by the whistling wind before it could reach Noa’s ears.

With one final [Blink], the two materialized in the center of the street before the others: Vionette, Lina, Elina, Kaelen, Rose, Lucien, and Elan.

“What is that face for?” Seliora asked with a smile. Her feet touched the earth as she slipped from Noa’s arms. “I’m not going to steal him, you know.”

She was looking at Vionette, whose expression was a masterpiece of jealousy. Her cheeks puffed out, her arms folded tightly over her chest, and a fire seemed to burn around her—though that was merely Elina, standing behind her, using fire magic to complete the effect.

Vionette instantly surged forward, grabbing Noa from behind like a child reclaiming a lost toy. She buried her face against his shoulder, her arms wrapping around his chest in a protective lock.

She glared at Lina, who stood to the far left with territorial eyes, before sweeping her gaze across the group, one by one, finally settling on Elan at the far right.

Watching this, Seliora let out a fond laugh. She really is cute sometimes.

“What’s wrong?” Noa leaned his head backward, his gaze meeting hers. “Do you want a princess carry too?”

“...No... I sent you knowing this was how you would bring her here anyway,” Vionette muttered, her voice muffled against his shirt.

“Then why the death stare?”

“Why?” She tightened her grip. “I can’t hug you?”

“You absolutely can,” Noa chuckled. He pried her hands loose gently, only to turn her around and pull her into his own embrace, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You can hug me for years if you want.”

“Alright, alright, you two,” Seliora intervened, stepping forward. “Save this for a more private time. Let’s get going.”

Rose, watching from the sidelines, felt her heart swell with relief. Finally… someone who can actually do something!

***

A loud, mocking laugh echoed through the private lounge as Noa pointed a finger at the opposing team. “You lost, you idiots!”

They had spent the evening locked in a series of competitive games, having established one rule: the team with the fewest points would have to perform whatever task the victors demanded.

Noa’s team comprised Vionette, Elan, and Lucien. The other side consisted of Kaelen, Rose, Seliora, Lina, and Elina.

“Of course you won,” Rose ground out, her competitive spirit wounded. “This idiot just overpowered us, and you won all the mind games.” She glared from Noa to Vionette.

Vionette leaned back, smirking in the glow of victory, her arm draped casually over a flustered Elan's shoulder. Beside them, Lucien exhaled a grateful sigh, thanking the heavens that his unnatural luck had carried him through.

“Now... I have to do... whatever they say?” Rose’s face paled as she caught the mischievous glint in Noa’s eyes.

“Yes. Just bear with it,” Kaelen confirmed her fears, his own face a portrait of stoic defeat as he stared at the floor.

“Ahhh!” Elina grabbed her horns in frustration, her tail lashing wildly behind her. “Whose bright idea was it to put the ‘useless’ Vionette on that guy’s team?!”

The room plunged into silence as her teammates slowly turned to pin her with blank, judging stares, perfectly recalling Elina’s own boastful words from an hour prior.

“‘Pffft! Who’s scared of Vionette joining his team? What can they do? You can take Kaelen, too, if you want.’ That is what you said, little dragon.” Seliora reached out and pinched Elina’s cheeks, stretching them wide.

“Uhh... maybe you remember it wrong?” Elina’s bravado evaporated, replaced by a chilling dread. “...Was it really me?”

“Do I look like I’m lying?” Seliora shook the girl’s cheeks playfully. Her expression carried no anger, only a warm, fond smile. “Don't say things you can't back up, okay?”

“…Yes, ma’am,” the dragon squeaked.

They were currently gathered in a private suite rented for the night—a cozy yet opulent chamber comparable in size to Vionette’s office, adorned with plush chairs, padded benches, and velvet couches.

At the sound of three knocks, every head turned toward the door. Elina and Lina already had their tongue sticking out in eager anticipation, while Noa and Vionette shared a hungry glance.

“Enter,” Vionette commanded, her voice regaining a sliver of its royal weight.

The door opened to admit a parade of servants. Within minutes, the table—previously cluttered with playing cards and game pieces—was laden with dishes crafted from the highest-quality ingredients: succulent meats, exotic fruits, and bottles of fine wine that shimmered with violet and crimson hues.

“Time to dig in, then!” Elina didn’t wait for a signal. She grabbed a fork and skewered a thick slice of meat, her eyes sparkling like gems.

“Eat slowly, you glutton,” Seliora chided as she began her own meal with practiced elegance, only to pause.

She noticed that Noa and Vionette had already retreated into a world of their own. Vionette was delicately feeding him choice cuts of meat, while Noa leaned his weight against her, basking entirely in her undivided attention.

These two... they really can’t keep it private, Seliora sighed, a soft smile curving her lips as she resumed eating.

Meanwhile, Rose was engaged in a different sort of battle. She sat perfectly upright, intensely staring at Kaelen, who was methodically eating.

I can’t take the first sip of wine, you blockhead... come on, just drink it!

“Wow! I’ve never had food this delicious!” Elan’s eyes widened as she took her first bite, her words slightly muffled by the richness of the flavors. “And this food is a little... how do I say... different?”

“I had the same thought when I first came here, too,” Lucien smiled, watching her expression with fond eyes. “Eryndor has some unique traditions... Lord Noa told me ‘they’re just a little more modern,’ whatever that means.”

“Don’t look at me like that when you’re speaking so casually,” Elan whispered.

“But I want to look at you...”

“Stop it! We’re in public!”

“Public?” Lina interrupted from across the table, gesturing with a grease-stained fork toward the center couch. “Look over there and tell me if that word even matters anymore.”

She pointed at Noa and Vionette. They were sharing a single skewer, their faces inches apart, completely oblivious to the seven other people in the room.

“...Still, it’s a no,” Elan stammered, though her resolve was clearly crumbling.

Then, without warning, the pop of a wine bottle being uncorked echoed across the room. Everyone turned to see Elina holding a freshly opened vintage.

“What are you doing?” Lucien asked, his brow furrowing. “You’re too young for that.”

“Hey, I’ve had a drink before!” Elina stood up proudly, her tail swaying with defiance. “And I may not look like it, but I’m much older than you, human!”

“Sthill... doesn't mahher,” Rose slurred, her voice suddenly thick with a strange, lazy cadence.

“You’re already drunk?!” Lina shouted, staring at the Head Maid in horror.

The moment Elina popped the first cork, Rose’s repressed reflexes had hijacked her senses. She had grabbed a different bottle, uncorked it, and drained a full glass in one go—failing to realize it contained the most potent alcohol in the room.

…

The hours bled into one another as the night stretched on and the wine flowed freely. Eventually, the room sank into a quiet stillness, the group succumbing to their exhaustion.

Elina and Lina sprawled across the carpet, drooling slightly as they dreamed of endless feasts; Seliora had drifted off in a chaise lounge, her royal posture miraculously maintained even in slumber; Rose was passed out in her chair, head pillowed on the table, while Kaelen sat motionless beside her, his fingers loosely hooked around an empty wine glass.

Lucien and Elan were tucked together against the base of a couch, their fingers entwined and their heads leaning against each other in peaceful harmony.

“Did... everyone pass out?” Noa mumbled, his voice thick with a pleasant, drowning haze. He was seated on the floor, resting his head back against a sofa cushion. “I guess I’ll sleep, t—”

“Noa... darling...”

Vionette crawled toward him across the grey carpet, her movements slow and languid, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson.

He braced his weight on his hands, blinking rapidly to clear his vision enough to focus on her face. “...Vionette? Are you drunk?”

Her lips twitched into a cheeky smile, punctuated by a soft hiccup. “...A little.”

“Doesn’t seem like just ‘a little’ to me,” he remarked, sitting up properly. “And... ‘darling’?”

“Why?” She pouted, her lower lip trembling playfully as she pressed a palm to his chest, leaning entirely into his personal space. “Do you... not like it?”

“You can call me anything you like.” Noa’s smile was warm, his words slightly slurred by the violet wine. “And I will like anything that comes from you.”

Vionette slumped against him, surrendering her entire weight, the gentle heat of her body melting into his. Her half-lidded eyes locked onto him with an unflinching, hungry intensity.

“I... want a kiss... now!” she demanded.

Noa leaned back down on the floor, gently drawing her on top of him. His arms wrapped around her waist, anchoring her close.

Vionette closed her eyes, yielding to the gravity of the moment, her lips finding his in a clumsy, passionate collision. She let out a soft, lingering hum, her hands tracing up to his tie before pulling it loose.

The kiss lingered, tasting of sweet vintage and mischievous longing. Slowly, they parted just enough to breathe, their foreheads brushing in the dim light. As he watched, she reached for the glass of wine Noa had been drinking from earlier and took a slow sip. She then looked back down at him.

“That’s enough drinking for you, Vio,” Noa murmured, taking the glass away from her.

“Don’t worry, it’s not for me.” She smiled playfully. “Here, drink some more.”

The second kiss stretched on as she leaned in, teasingly sharing the sweet liquid with him in a slow, intoxicating rhythm.

Finally, they parted, and Vionette slumped against him, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Noa’s eyelids drooped, a lazy smile tugging at his lips as he muttered, “You’re warm.”

“And you’re... you taste like chocolate,” Vionette whispered back. Her lips brushed the shell of his ear as she nuzzled closer, a vibrating laugh caught in her throat.

She parted her lips over the sensitive skin of his neck, and a thrilling sensation bloomed on the side of Noa’s neck.

It was a claim—a mark forged in the haze of the night to ensure that, even when the sun rose, he belonged to her, and her alone.

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