Chapter 14 - How to summon a MILF!
"Are you alright?"
Celeste asked, her voice dripping with concern.
But Alex? Oh no, Alex was deep in his performance.
He slowly turned his head toward Sammy, his gaze locking onto her face like a moth hypnotized by a particularly seductive flame.
Her breath, warm and sweet, tickled his skin — a breath so pleasant it could've sold as a spa treatment. And those lips... oh boy. They looked softer than a marshmallow doing yoga.
"Vi...Violet?"
Alex stammered, his voice quivering like he'd just spotted his long-lost lover through the fog of war.
"Violet, is that... you? My Violet—aaaah!"
For added drama, he clutched his face like he'd just remembered that he'd left the stove on back home.
He shook his head like he was exorcising a demon, then stopped abruptly — his expression flipping back to casual normalcy like someone had just flipped a switch.
"I-I think I'm starting to recall my memory..."
Celeste blinked. Sammy arched an eyebrow. Even Ellie stopped scowling long enough to look genuinely baffled, like she'd just watched a pigeon backflip.
"Come on, get up. You look like you've been dragged through a cactus farm," Sammy chuckled, offering him a hand. "Just get some rest, okay? You'll feel better after a good night's sleep."
With the grace of a mother swatting away a toddler's tantrum, Sammy hoisted him to his feet.
Ellie clicked her tongue so hard it sounded like she was trying to send Morse code for "This idiot... I'm gonna kill him." But for once, she didn't say anything.
The group began their silent march upstairs, the mood as awkward as a funeral DJ.
The rooms were on the first floor above the tavern's chaos, of course, Sammy walked first, her hips swaying like a pair of pendulums calibrated to hypnotize.
Alex and Celeste followed, and while one hand clutched his head for dramatic effect, his eyes were laser-focused on something far more... dynamic.
'Ha ha... I might not get to cop a feel, but this VIP front-row view? Oh yeah, I'm living my best life right now.'
That booty bounced like it was trying to win a dance-off with gravity — each step a mini earthquake, and Alex was the poor villager watching his sanity crack apart like pavement.
The view was magnificent, but even better was the fact that both Sammy and Celeste kept chatting with him.
Soft words of comfort flowed his way like warm cocoa on a winter night — sweet, soothing, and oh-so-addictive.
"You okay?"
Sammy asked, her tone warm enough to melt chocolate.
"You feeling better now?"
Celeste added, her hand resting gently on his arm.
'This is nice... this is very nice. But the night is long, and I must fulfill my destiny — the sacred quest to claim Charlotte's heart... and possibly her thighs.'
Finally, they reached their destination. Sammy turned and smiled, her apron somehow defying gravity to keep her curves on full, glorious display.
"This is yours," she said, gesturing to Alex's room like she was granting him keys to a kingdom. "Go on, get in and get some sleep, okay?"
Alex nodded to the group like a brave soldier about to embark on a noble mission.
The second the door closed behind him, he spun around, and practically pounced on the door like a cat hearing a can opener. Ear pressed firmly against the wood, he grinned like a lunatic.
'Alright... time to eavesdrop my way into glory.'
...
"Oh my? I thought Sam was just messing with him... but now I feel bad. Poor guy's genuinely got a few screws loose."
"He was like this when we found him..."
"Lord must be working overtime on him since he's apparently getting his memory back."
"Who's Violet? Munch~ munch~"
"More importantly, Alric-sama, why do you think he called Ms. Sammy 'Violet'? She must look like this Violet lady, huh?"
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"Tsk, tsk... For god's sake, guys! Just give me my damn room key, woman! I'm already at my limit today, and I don't wanna hear that retard's name anymore! Hmpfff!"
Ellie's tantrum came in hot, like an angry cat knocking everything off a shelf. The room keys suddenly jingled like wind chimes in a hurricane as everyone rushed to shut her up.
"Settle in," Alric grunted, his voice already halfway out the door. "Come down if you wanna drink and... mingle, okay?"
SLAM!
The door swung shut with the finality of a judge's gavel.
Alex snorted.
'Bitch! I'm not mentally ill... but I will be picking your brain soon enough. You'll be begging to know what's going on in here...'
He snickered to himself and rubbed his hands together like a cartoon villain plotting world domination.
Then, for maximum effect, Alex marched to the center of his room, flopped down on the floor like a poorly thrown ragdoll, and began weeping dramatically.
Tears flowed like someone had left the sink running.
'Boy, what's with this body? These tears are coming faster than a leaky faucet on payday... Was the last guy in here an actor or something?'
He shrugged, wiped his face on his sleeve, and just kept on bawling — because hey, when life gives you lemons, sometimes you just gotta cry until they feel sorry for you.
...
Sammy, having successfully wrangled the new guests into their rooms, was on her way back downstairs when she stopped dead in her tracks outside Alex's room.
Her head cocked like a dog that just heard a squeaky toy.
"What the...?"
Her ears twitched — the universal signal for something's not right. She leaned closer, pressing her ear to the wood like a nosy neighbor during a street fight.
Sniff... sob...
"...Is that... crying?"
Sammy blinked.
"Crying?!"
'Oh no... did this poor bastard just unlock some tragic memory? Is he having another episode like before?'
Sammy bit her lip, one foot retreating like it was already halfway down the stairs. But guilt sucker-punched her in the gut.
The poor guy was supposedly missing his memories — and clearly a few brain cells too.
With a sigh, she drew a deep breath, twisted the doorknob... and to her surprise, it swung right open.
'Oh hell no...'
The room was dark as a coal miner's armpit, save for the sliver of light spilling in from the corridor.
In the middle of the shadowy room, there he was — Alex, sitting on the floor, clutching his head like he was auditioning for Most Dramatic Breakdown of the Year.
Tears streamed down his face like he was sponsored by a bottled water company. His sobs were ugly — not the graceful, cinematic kind — but the full-blown hiccup-sniffle-why-am-I-like-this kind.
Sammy gulped and traced a cross on her chest like she was arming herself for a vampire attack.
'Lord, I don't know if I'm walking into a rescue mission or a crime scene, but guide me through this mess...'
She stepped in carefully, unaware that somewhere down in the fiery pits of hell, the Devil himself had his feet up on a throne of skulls, popcorn in hand, watching this scene unfold with a grin so wide it could've unzipped his face.