Chapter 2

Sebastian POV

The box sat on my dining table, like a secret I had bought. Its edges were sharp and clean, hiding what was inside. I looked at it for a little too long, my heart beating loudly in my ears. My logical mind told me to be careful. It was just a thing I bought, maybe a fancy toy, or a very real-looking fake person. But when I lifted the lid, what I had bought felt much more real than I expected.

Inside, he lay still, curled up as if the world was too bright for him. His silver hair fell over his shoulders like soft, glowing moonlight. His skin was pale, almost see-through, but his body was tense, like he was ready, waiting. My chest felt tight.

He was so beautiful it hurt.

I leaned closer, I couldn't help it, looking at every little detail. His face was shaped in a way that seemed impossible—the line of his jaw, the soft shape of his lips, his high cheekbones that caught the light and stood out. Even the gentle movement of his chest showed he was alive, a rhythm I didn't expect from something I bought online like an object.

And then, his eyes opened.

They were red. A deep, bright, impossible red. They looked at me, and it felt like he could see right through me, past all the walls I had built around myself. I couldn't breathe. There was no sign that he knew me, no kindness, no friendliness. Just a strong, intense feeling that pushed against my thoughts.

I stepped back. "Um… hi," I said, my voice shaking. My fingers wanted to reach out, to touch him, to see if this moment was real, but something held me back. His stare kept me frozen, feeling heavy and intrusive, making the air feel thick.

He didn't say a word. Not even a small sound to show he heard me. He just watched, his eyes moving with something that felt like wanting—or maybe waiting.

I swallowed, my heart pounding. "You… uh… need water? Or—maybe something to eat?" My voice was clumsy and unsteady. My fingers hovered near his hands, not knowing what to do.

No answer.

I tried again, more quietly this time. "Do you… understand me?"

Still nothing.

A chill went down my back. I had expected him to move, to blink, to nod—something human. Instead, he was so still it was almost unbearable. His skin had a faint glow in the warm light of my apartment, but when I reached out and touched his wrist, his skin felt hot. Almost like he had a fever, but strangely, also cold. This mix of feelings made my mind spin.

I pulled my hand back quickly, feeling uneasy. Was something wrong with him? Was he broken? A mistake in the making of this… being?

I walked around the small living room, keeping my eyes on him. He hadn't moved. He hadn't reacted. And yet, the feeling of his presence pressed against me like a real thing. I realized I wasn't just looking at him. I was aware of him in every way. The tension in his body, the tiny shake in his jaw, the faint, wonderful smell that came from him—it was hard not to notice.

By the middle of the afternoon, I had tried everything I could think of. I offered him food—simple, plain things, nothing I thought a person, let alone a succubus, would find tasty. He didn't eat. I offered him water. He didn't drink. I spoke softly, telling him ordinary things, trying to make small talk, hoping to get some kind of reaction. Still nothing.

I sat across from him, my hands held tight, watching. He breathed, and that was the only proof he was alive. My mind went back and forth between being curious and being scared.

It was then I noticed it—a feeling, almost too small to sense. Not a movement, but like a magnetic pull, a pressure in the air between us. The longer I looked into those red eyes, the more I felt drawn in. My chest felt tight with a strange mix of worry and something… more basic. Something that hinted at wanting, curiosity, and caution all at the same time.

I shook my head. "This is silly. He's a product. He can't—won't—ask anything of me."

And yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that he *was* asking. Something more than just being there. Something I was only starting to understand.

Night came, and with it, the ache of not knowing. I had read the instructions many times. There were no warnings, except the obvious "handle with care." There were no instructions on what to do if the companion didn't respond. And he hadn't.

I swallowed, and my fingers quickly typed a message to the seller.

"Hello. I think there's a problem. The companion I got… he doesn't react to anything. He doesn't eat, doesn't drink, barely moves. His temperature seems strange, but his skin feels almost cold. I'm worried he might be broken. Please tell me what to do."

I paused before hitting send, looking at his red eyes that were fixed on me as I typed. Then, I finally sent it.

The reply didn't come right away. Hours passed, the silence of the messages feeling like a tight string. I sat on the edge of the sofa, my heart still pounding in my ears, my fingers nervously pulling at the edge of my shirt. I found myself looking at him again and again, drawn to the gentle movement of his chest, the curve of his jaw, the impossible beauty that made my thoughts spin.

Finally, the message arrived.

“Dear valued customer, hello. Your Succubus is not malfunctioning, nor is he ill. He is simply extremely hungry and needs you. Not food, but you. This includes, but is not limited to, kissing, hugging, and any form of… intimate energy exchange. Wishing you a pleasant experience!”

I froze, my fingers shaking. I read the message again. And again. The words, simple and clear, had a weight I couldn't ignore. Hungry. He needed me. Me. Not food in the usual way, but something more than basic, more intimate, more wonderfully scary??

I glanced at Reed. He was still, but the heat coming from his body seemed to get stronger, reaching me even from across the foam lining. His eyes met mine, unblinking, red, burning in a way that made my stomach twist. I had bought him thinking he would fill the empty parts of my life. Now I realized… it was I who would be drawn into his hunger.

I reached out slowly, carefully, my fingertips touching his jawline. Reed leaned a little into my touch, a tiny shiver running through him. My own pulse pounded in response.

"What… does that mean?" I whispered, my voice breaking a little. "How… how do I feed you?"

There was no answer. Only the heavy, overwhelming intensity of his gaze, the heat from his body, and the impossible knowledge that I was no longer alone. Not in any way I understood.

Then I brought it closer than normal.