After Being Coaxed And Seduced By A Yandere Omega Heartthrob - Chapter 7

You couldn’t wear hearing aids while sleeping.

So whenever Sylvia needed something in the middle of the night, she would get out of bed and shake Song Zhao awake. Song Zhao never considered it much of a disturbance.

She was a light sleeper and usually woke very quickly.

But for some reason, tonight she slept unusually deeply.

She even had a rather suggestive dream.

Across two lifetimes, it was the first time Song Zhao had ever had this kind of dream.

In the dream, a girl wrapped in a sleep robe lay back in her arms. One slender, delicate hand swept aside the silver hair draped over her shoulder, exposing her fragile neck along with the swollen gland there, inviting Song Zhao to taste it.

The Omega took Song Zhao’s hand herself and guided it toward her flushed cheek.

Song Zhao’s gaze moved upward, first touching those glossy pink lips, then rising again into a familiar expanse of misty blue.

Sylvia’s eyes were deep and bright, yet not childish. The slightly upturned corners carried a natural hint of seduction even when she wasn’t smiling. She simply gazed at Song Zhao through the hazy moisture in the air, alluring and soft, with spring tide practically overflowing from her eyes.

“Zhaozhao—”

Song Zhao’s hearing wasn’t good, yet every syllable Sylvia spoke fell perfectly clearly into her heart.

For an instant, Song Zhao could no longer tell whether her heartbeat or her breathing had skipped half a beat. She only felt that voice winding around her, light and lingering, effortlessly plucking her soul—thin as a cicada’s wing—out of her body.

The sticky, ambiguous sounds from earlier that day wrapped around her again like cotton, calling her name over and over.

“Mmm… I want it…”

“I want you so badly.”

“Help me, Zhaozhao.”

Song Zhao saw herself lower her head and take the Omega’s full gland between her lips, gently rubbing against it, carefully catching a small patch of skin at the side of her neck between her teeth.

The rose fragrance rising from that snow-white skin was warmed by both of their body heat until it became overwhelming, soft yet impossible to refuse as it invaded Song Zhao’s every breath, allowing her to focus on nothing except Sylvia.

“Zhaozhao…”

Warmth seeped through the fabric between them, like embracing a small, gentle sun.

The satisfied woman narrowed her hazy blue eyes and, at the very last moment, bestowed a sweet kiss on Song Zhao like a reward.

“I like it so much.”

“!”

Song Zhao jolted awake.

All the blood in her body seemed to surge backward and rush straight into her head.

Her chest rose and fell violently. A thin layer of sweat had formed across her forehead, dampening a few wisps of bangs until they pitifully stuck to her skin. She looked as though she had just been fished out of water.

Strange.

Why was it so hot tonight?

Still half dazed, she realized she couldn’t move. Something seemed to be weighing her down, making it difficult to breathe.

Even worse, the rose fragrance from the dream was still wrapped around her like a shadow, as if its owner were lying right beside her pillow at this very moment…

“Mmm—”

Something shifted close to her heart.

Sylvia, disturbed awake, instinctively burrowed toward somewhere warmer and softer, curling into Song Zhao’s arms without the slightest concern for appearances.

It was like being granted the absolute trust of a kitten, and therefore being given the right to be embraced by happiness.

But…

Miss Heroine, haven’t you come to the wrong place?

She was only some random NPC!

Yalos’s smiling-yet-not-smiling face flashed through Song Zhao’s mind, raising goosebumps all over her body.

She shuddered and instinctively wanted to shake Sylvia awake so she could escape from this restraint completely.

But when she saw the girl’s relaxed brows and peaceful expression, Song Zhao’s raised hand froze in midair.

Then she hesitated.

Sylvia hadn’t slept this soundly in a very long time.

She often had nightmares.

Even on the rare nights when she managed to sleep peacefully, her brows would remain furrowed. Her eyes stayed tightly shut, her lips pressed into a thin line, and even her long lashes looked like startled butterflies constantly ready to take flight.

This kind of complete relaxation was far too rare for her.

Song Zhao narrowed her eyes toward the quartz clock on the opposite wall.

There were still about two hours before they needed to get up. Beyond the curtains, left slightly parted, everything was gray and dim.

It was still early.

She carefully pried Sylvia’s arm away and put one foot outside the makeshift bed.

For once, Song Zhao was grateful she slept on a beanbag chair.

All she had to do was shift her weight to the right and roll backward, and she could escape on the spot.

She had already decided she would make do on the sofa for the rest of the night and leave this spot to Sylvia.

But her movement tugged at the blanket covering them.

The warm, comfortable temperature in Sylvia’s arms slowly disappeared as Song Zhao pulled away.

Sylvia let out an uncomfortable little “mm” and opened her eyes—

just in time to catch Song Zhao with her butt nearly touching the floor.

The embarrassment of being caught red-handed instantly spread from the soles of Song Zhao’s feet through her entire body.

For a moment, she couldn’t decide whether she should keep escaping or pretend she had only been getting up to use the bathroom.

Unexpectedly, Sylvia merely moved her lips and asked in a slightly hoarse, sleepy voice, completely naturally,

“What time is it?”

Song Zhao instinctively answered.

The Omega’s body still retained the posture she had used while curled in Song Zhao’s arms.

Her long legs were folded sideways with the blanket caught between them, bent slightly to preserve as much warmth as possible beneath the covers.

One hand was still resting on Song Zhao, with absolutely no intention of withdrawing.

In fact, she lightly tugged at her as though asking her to stay.

Song Zhao was more comfortable to hug than that fat carrot.

She smelled better, too.

And she was warmer.

Even if sleeping Song Zhao wouldn’t pat her back.

Although climbing in uninvited was admittedly a little improper…

Song Zhao was her personal maid.

Surely it was fine for a personal maid to be a little “personal” once in a while?

The brain always favored its host. Once freed from rational thought, it had no hesitation in choosing whatever made the body more comfortable.

Sylvia withdrew her hand, already closing her eyes again.

Without even looking at Song Zhao, she lightly patted the empty space beside her, signaling for her to come back.

It wasn’t an unreasonable request.

She believed Song Zhao would listen to her.

“Come back, okay? Stay with me a little longer until the alarm goes off.”

Her voice was listless and soft.

The moment she heard the cushion sink beneath Song Zhao’s returning weight, Sylvia’s body made the decision before her mind did.

She leaned over and nestled herself right back into Song Zhao’s arms.

Although Song Zhao obeyed, she still asked somewhat awkwardly,

“How come you’re not using the body pillow today?”

“It ran out of battery.”

Sylvia answered casually, her face buried in Song Zhao’s clothes, making her voice sound muffled.

Something still felt missing…

Sylvia wasn’t sure whether Song Zhao could hear her clearly from this distance.

So at last, she reluctantly pulled back a little so Song Zhao could read her lips.

Her voice was coaxing, as light as goose down.

“Won’t sleeping like that crush your arm?”

Song Zhao nodded.

“A little.”

After lying on her side all night, she could barely feel her left arm anymore.

Seeing this, Sylvia very kindly propped up her upper body.

Still drowsy, she grabbed Song Zhao’s arm and pulled it onto the pillow they were sharing.

That way, she could loosely rest her neck on it.

It also made it easier to hug Song Zhao more closely.

Having obtained what she wanted, Sylvia happily curled back into place.

The distance between them had already been intimate.

This movement made it even less restrained.

The other girl’s breath spilled freely against Song Zhao’s neck.

Song Zhao’s chin inevitably rested lightly against the top of Sylvia’s head.

And the arm across Sylvia’s waist finally stopped only once they were pressed together as closely as physically possible.

Sylvia seemed to have decided Song Zhao was the Pro Max version of that carrot pillow and even urged her to pat her back.

How…

How was she supposed to sleep like this?!

.

Today was the first day of school.

Ever since being turned into a pillow, Song Zhao hadn’t slept another wink.

Sylvia, meanwhile, looked completely revived after spending the night pressed against her.

She was energetic from head to toe, even her steps unusually light as they left the manor. She looked as though she might start imitating a Disn*y princess at any moment, singing while spinning in circles.

She was in an excellent mood the entire way.

Although Song Zhao was a transfer student, Duke Winters had already had someone submit her personal information to the school before her arrival.

She had also received two fitted sets of academy uniforms: one skirt uniform and one trouser uniform.

Both were silver-gray and made from an expensive fabric called “cloudwoven gold.”

Despite the cost, students didn’t actually need to wear them very often throughout the semester.

One occasion was the opening ceremony they were about to attend.

Truthfully, Song Zhao was a little nervous.

No matter who you were, leaving a familiar environment for somewhere completely unfamiliar inevitably brought some anxiety.

But whenever she reminded herself how useful this place would be for her future, that unease quickly settled back down.

Perhaps noticing her anxiety, Sylvia, seated opposite her, suddenly swung one leg lightly.

The movement immediately stole all of Song Zhao’s attention away from her lowered head.

Sunlight was divided into neat squares by the crystal-clear car windows, slanting into the spacious compartment and wrapping brightly around the two of them.

Song Zhao looked up.

She saw a face without makeup, the lips carrying a healthy flush after a full night of excellent sleep.

Sylvia hadn’t braided her hair today, but Song Zhao had still carefully groomed those long strands that seemed even more precious than silk.

The ends falling across her chest curled into a beautiful arc, swaying gently in the breeze slipping through the cracked window.

“Song Zhao.”

Those misty blue eyes looked directly at her.

Sylvia pronounced her name clearly.

“Did you finish entering the invitation code I sent you?”

“Ah, yeah. It’s all done.”

Song Zhao answered and instinctively pulled her phone from her pocket.

Sylvia was referring to the campus app designed by a former student of Saint Drian Academy.

After downloading it, users had to enter an invitation code before they could actually use it.

Through the app, students could directly search for verified alumni chat accounts and access the school’s anonymous forum.

It also had following lists, follower lists, and personal feed features, making it convenient to share everyday life and maintain short-term connections.

Basically, it was a hybrid of WeChat and Weibo.

Song Zhao could understand the design well enough.

After all, every single person in an aristocratic academy represented a potentially valuable resource. The only difference was how much that resource might ultimately be worth.

Either way, building more connections was never a bad thing.

Besides, all those second-, third-, and nth-generation rich kids needed somewhere to show off their wealth.

But as a “companion student,” Song Zhao’s treatment at Saint Drian wasn’t much different from that of an impoverished student admitted through special academic recruitment.

She didn’t imagine anyone would be interested in adding her.

So after logging in that day, she had immediately exited without bothering to explore any of the app’s features.

Now that Sylvia mentioned it, Song Zhao suddenly had the feeling she had forgotten something.

The Omega stared at her for a long time, looking as though she wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out how to begin.

Song Zhao blinked at her in confusion.

After a while, she finally heard Sylvia ask in a low voice,

“You… weren’t planning to follow me?”

“Huh? But we already added each other on WeChat.”

Song Zhao had even pinned Sylvia’s chat to the top so she could receive messages immediately.

Later, after discovering that Sylvia always made requests face-to-face anyway, she had unpinned it.

Song Zhao stared at Sylvia without blinking.

She watched the Omega apparently take a deep breath.

Then Sylvia lowered her head, lit up her phone, and began tapping through the screen with smooth, practiced movements.

The phone in Song Zhao’s palm suddenly chimed.

She instinctively looked down.

A notification from the San app flashed across the top of the screen, its message concise and direct:

You have been followed by user Sylvia Winters.

Song Zhao completely failed to notice that the Omega opposite her was carefully watching her expression.

Sylvia’s lips moved silently.

“Idiot.”