The System Keeps Making Me Do Indecent Missions [BL, R18]

Chapter 37: Chapter 37: The Weight of a Touch

Dominic Vance’s face had completely darkened, he simply wanted to seal that chattering mouth shut once and for all. His life had always been smooth sailing, so why would he ever pay mind to such trivial bickering?

What did an engagement even amount to? He could cancel it whenever he pleased, not to mention that Lucien was the one who rightfully deserved to sit in this position, rather than Miles.

Naturally, Dominic Vance also considered the possibility that Lucien was deliberately playing hard to get, but upon seeing the youth’s pallid complexion, he found himself entirely unable to harden his heart.

As for Lucien, the young man seemed oblivious to Dominic Vance’s overcast expression, merely lowering his head and nervously twisting the hem of his shirt: "I... I will move out."

Having said that, Lucien bit his lip, averting his gaze as he forced out a few more words: "I will not bother you anymore in the future, you can rest assured..."

Dominic Vance stood up decisively and hoisted the other person into his arms. This sudden action gave Lucien a severe start, forcing him to cling to Dominic Vance’s shoulders for safety: "You... put me down!"

His mouth said so, yet Lucien did not dare to struggle much. This body of his currently resembled a candle flickering in the wind. If he thrashed around too fiercely and Dominic Vance failed to maintain a firm grip, falling was a very real possibility.

If he fell now, a hospital stay would be an absolute certainty!

"Shut your mouth!" Dominic Vance’s voice was undeniably fierce, yet the way he supported the youth was quite careful. The man deliberately hoisted Lucien up a bit higher, adjusting his posture before carrying the young man upstairs: "I told you to stay here, so you will stay here. What about it? Do you dare to disobey my orders?"

Lucien pursed his lips once again: "You do not need to take responsibility for me. What happened that day... just treat it as my own willing choice."

Dominic Vance’s expression turned rigid: "Rest assured, there are very few people with enough face to force me to take responsibility."

Hearing the man’s tone, Lucien guessed that Dominic Vance was already thoroughly enraged. Thus, he obediently kept his mouth shut, knowing that it was unwise to provoke this person into a frenzy right now.

Lunatics who lacked the means to release their desires were highly prone to going completely mad. If the man lost his mind, abandoned all humanity, and pinned him to the bed, what then? Lucien felt that taking such a risk was ill-advised.

Therefore, leaning into the rhythm of Dominic Vance’s footsteps ascending the stairs, Lucien wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, keeping his body close.

Lucien’s scorching breath, fueled by an unrelenting fever, swept against the hollow of Dominic Vance’s neck. For some inexplicable reason, this sensation caused the man’s searing anger to dissipate.

Seemingly overwhelmed by exhaustion, Dominic Vance could feel the small frame gradually going limp as it leaned into his chest.

"And yet you still demand to draw a clear line between us..."

Dominic Vance whispered, keeping his voice low to avoid disturbing the sleeping youth. Looking at the soft body resting so closely against his own flesh, he suddenly felt that this person was actually quite endearing to look at.

Dominic Vance took long strides down the hallway, refusing to cast another glance at the person in his arms. However, a mere thin layer of clothing was entirely insufficient to block the scalding heat transferring from the youth’s body. Dominic Vance unconsciously tightened his grip, terrified that the slightest slackening might cause him to drop this person.

How could someone be so minuscule? A strong gust of wind might actually blow him away.

Dominic Vance carried the youth straight into his own bedroom. Lucien was already fast asleep by this point, presumably exhausted beyond measure. The man had no choice but to carefully lay him down upon the bed.

The moment his back touched the mattress, Lucien let out a soft murmur and habitually curled himself into a small ball.

Dominic Vance stood beside the bed, his profound gaze glued to the tiny lump beneath the thin blanket. Initially, he intended to turn around and head to the bathroom to wash away the exhaustion and frustration that had plagued him throughout the entire evening.

Yet, the very instant he turned his back, a remarkably gentle force, so feeble that it was almost imperceptible, suddenly tugged at the hem of his shirt.

Dominic Vance froze in his tracks.

He lowered his head to look down. Lucien, delirious from the high fever, had unconsciously reached out from beneath the covers, his pallid, emaciated fingers clutching tightly onto a corner of Dominic Vance’s clothing. The grip held absolutely no strength, it was merely the unconditional reflex of someone drowning in illness, desperately yearning to find a safe anchor.

The most crucial point was that Lucien possessed absolutely no awareness that he was committing this act.

Dominic Vance stood rooted to the spot, his eyes fixated on that tiny hand. It truly was incredibly small. This was clearly an adult, yet his skeletal frame was diminutive, lacking any semblance of flesh or fat. Looking closely, that hand was perhaps only half the size of his own.

"How could this person be frail to such a degree?"

That thought flitted through his mind, carrying with it a fragile trace of heartache that Dominic Vance himself failed to grasp in time. He reached out, fully intending to pry away the fingers tightly gripping his shirt so that he could go shower.

But the moment his fingers brushed against the youth’s freezing back of the hand, Lucien seemed to sense the rejection. His delicate brows knitted tightly together in his sleep, the crease between his forehead etching a profound sense of insecurity. He did not let go, instead, he unconsciously burrowed deeper into the blanket, much like a wounded little beast terrified of being abandoned.

For some unknown reason, Dominic Vance felt as though a nameless, tender sensation had abruptly woven its way into the softest, most vulnerable corner of his ironclad heart.

However, he simply loved to put on a haughty front, muttering a single sentence in a low voice: "So damn annoying."

He said as much, yet the hand that had intended to pry Lucien’s grasp away slowly retracted. He simply maintained his slightly hunched posture beside the bed, allowing Lucien to hold onto his shirt hem, standing there with utmost patience until the other’s breathing gradually stabilized.

Right at this moment, System 000, which had remained deathly silent for so long, suddenly surfaced within the space of consciousness, making its appearance with an incredibly bouncy and gossipy demeanor.

[Wow.]

[Look at this, Host. Your male lead has begun to enter the phase of self-evolution, spontaneously transforming himself into a devoted wife-slave right before our eyes.]

Lucien, caught in a state of semi-consciousness amidst his fever, was deeply annoyed by the system’s clamor. He merely tossed back two frigid words in his mind: "Shut up..."

System 000 naturally did not obediently close its mouth, it continued to click its tongue in awe: [Before, the look in his eyes when he stared at you held so much resentment, looking as if he wanted nothing more than to strip you bare and ravage you. Now look at this, standing until his legs ache but not daring to pull his shirt away for fear of waking you up. He is finally starting to feel a heartache for someone.]

In the real world, the corners of Lucien’s lips seemed entirely out of his control as they curled upward into an imperceptibly slight arc, carrying a heavy dose of dense mockery. His voice echoed within the space of his consciousness, icy and rational to the point of cruelty:

"Men are all the same. The more power they wield, the more they delight in trampling upon the things that are easily obtained. It is only when they realize that very thing is about to slip through their fingers, about to be lost for all eternity, that they finally begin to learn how to cherish it."

Dominic Vance’s heartache at this very moment? Lucien felt it was as utterly laughable as a tragicomedy.

An unknown amount of time passed, and it was only when the darkness outside the window had thoroughly thickened that Lucien vaguely drifted back to wakefulness.

The fever had yet to fully recede, leaving his mind spinning with dizziness, but the thing that brought him the most discomfort at this moment was the sticky sensation clinging to his body. The sterile scent of hospital disinfectants, compounded by the cold sweat soaking his sleepwear, made someone as relentlessly fastidious about cleanliness as Lucien utterly unable to suppress his repulsion.

He pressed his hands against the mattress, intending to make his way to the bathroom.

However, this frail body clearly refused to obey the commands of his will. The very instant the tips of Lucien’s toes grazed the frigid floor, both of his knees instantly gave out. His entire body staggered as his center of gravity completely vanished, sending him pitching straight forward.

It was originally supposed to be nothing more than an act, who could have ever anticipated that after merely being drenched in a single rainstorm, this body would genuinely look as though it was about to cross the threshold into the afterlife.

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