The next morning, I took my time coming downstairs. Not because I'd slept late — I was awake before sunrise — but because I wanted her to notice the delay.
When I finally stepped into the common room, the place was already lively. The usual mix of merchants, locals, and a few travelers filled the tables. She was moving among them with a tray in hand, her dark hair pinned up, her blouse fitting a little too well across her chest.
She noticed me almost instantly. I caught the way her step slowed, the quick flick of her eyes before she turned back to her table. It wasn't an accident.
I took a seat at the counter. By the time I'd settled in, she was already there, setting down a mug.
"Morning," she said, voice warm but measured.
"Morning," I echoed, letting Desire Tongue hum just enough to slide under her skin. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me."
Her lips curved faintly. "You're hard to forget."
She set a plate in front of me — bread, butter, a couple slices of smoked meat — and lingered a second too long before pulling her hand away.
"You seem busy today," I said.
"It's market day," she replied, glancing toward the window. "Merchants from outside the village come through. Good for business."
"And for gossip," I said.
That earned me a quick look, one eyebrow raised. "You like gossip?"
"I like… knowing things," I said, my voice dipping just slightly. "People. What they want. What they try to hide."
Her gaze held mine for a beat too long before she looked away.
[Target's receptiveness increased. Suggest light escalation.]
I tore off a piece of bread, spreading the butter slowly, deliberately, before eating it. "You know," I said casually, "you've been awfully generous with me for someone who barely knows me."
She tilted her head. "And you think that's strange?"
"I think," I said, "that you don't do it for just anyone."
Her mouth twitched in something halfway between a smirk and a smile. "Maybe you're right."
I didn't push further. Not yet. The key with someone like her was tension — letting the air between us thicken without rushing to break it.
When I finished eating, I stood, my fingers brushing hers as I slid the empty plate toward her. Desire Touch flowed instantly — that subtle heat threading between us like a secret.
This time, she didn't move her hand away right away.
I left for the day, but not far — just enough to walk the village's outer paths and keep my mind busy. I wanted her to wonder where I was, what I was doing, if I'd come back before nightfall.
When I returned near sunset, the inn was quieter. A few patrons sat scattered at the tables, but the warm chaos of morning was gone. She was at the counter again, tallying coins in a small wooden box.
"Evening," I said, leaning against the wood.
She looked up, her expression softening. "Back already?"
"Missed the place," I said.
"You've been here less than a week," she said with a small laugh.
I smiled faintly. "Sometimes it doesn't take long to get attached to something."
Her hands stilled for just a moment on the coins before she went back to counting.
[Target's emotional tension rising. Ideal for proximity testing.]
I moved around the counter, close enough that my shoulder brushed hers as I leaned to glance at the ledger she was writing in.
She looked up sharply. "What are you doing?"
"Just curious," I said, letting my voice drop lower. "You seem… very careful with your work."
Her eyes flicked over my face, her lips parting slightly before she looked away. "Someone has to be."
"You like being in control," I said.
That got me a small, knowing smile. "And you don't?"
"I like sharing it… with the right person."
The air between us shifted.
We stood like that for a moment — her still facing the ledger, me close enough that my presence was impossible to ignore. Then I stepped back.
"Anyway," I said lightly, "I'll let you get back to it."
Her gaze followed me as I left the counter, and the way her fingers lingered on the edge of the wood told me she wasn't quite ready for me to walk away.
That night, I didn't head straight upstairs after the common room emptied. I waited.
And it paid off.
When she came to lock the front door, she nearly jumped seeing me still sitting at the counter.
"Still here?" she asked.
"Didn't feel like sleeping yet."
She hesitated, then set the keys on the counter and poured herself a small drink. "One won't hurt," she said, almost to herself.
I watched her take a slow sip, her throat moving, the faint flush from the alcohol touching her cheeks.
We talked then — about the village, about the traders she'd seen come and go over the years. She didn't ask much about me, but she listened, leaning just slightly forward as I spoke.
And every so often, I let my hand rest on the counter near hers, close enough that when she shifted, our fingers would brush. Each touch was brief, but each one carried that Desire Touch warmth, seeding something deeper.
By the time she stood to put the empty glass away, her movements were slower, her eyes softer.
She walked me to the base of the stairs. "You should get some rest," she said quietly.
I took a half step closer. "And you?"
Her lips curved faintly. "I'll be fine."
I let the silence stretch just long enough for her to feel it, then nodded and turned away.
When I glanced back, she was still watching me.
[Desire Points earned: 3. Cumulative total: 8.]
The system's voice was calm, but there was something like approval in it. [Target is ready for next stage. Controlled escalation will yield optimal results.]
And tomorrow, that escalation would come.