Soren chuckled as he watched her disappear, shaking his head while taking the key with him and went up the stairs.
...
Soren found the room after getting lost twice in the cramped, torch lit corridors of the inn.
He put the key in and opened the door.
It was modest, better than the slave quarters he remembered, certainly but the stale air and the creaking floorboards felt heavy.
The was one window high on the right side to let the sun filter in during the day.
A single lamp illuminated the room, resting on an old stained wood table.
There were some papers with odd scribblings, some he could make out were expense calculations while the others didn't make much sense to him.
There were also two buckets, one large and one small and a few clean rugs Soren had already translated as towels in the world.
He tossed the key onto the stained wood table and sank onto the bed, the mattress groaning under his weight.
The patched stitching gave the bed a homey feel, but the silence of the room only amplified his own loneliness.
He stared at the single lamp, watching the flame dance as he was lost in thought, talking to Lilith and Loraine while filtering through the previous Soren's memories.
Some were sad, none were happy and that got him more than he thought.
Before he knew it, there was a soft knock on the door that startled him.
He didn't even realised how long had passed.
Soren snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the door in confusion for a moment before his eyes widen a little.
Before Lilith could even make a comment, he had already silenced the channel and went to open the door.
In front of him was a young lady, her skin was pale compared to the girls in the house, probably since she spent most of her time indoors as an innkeeper.
With grey blue eyes that carried a tired lit in them, she looked at Soren with a raised brow, crossing her hands as they locked eyes.
With her crossed arms, her tunic tried and failed to cover her overflowing bust and Soren had learnt in the moment that he was quite good at holding his eyes where they should be.
She didn't look like the other girls at the inn who wore their cleavage like an invitation.
Her tunic was plain, functional, but the way it strained across her full breasts as she crossed her arms, yet somehow it felt more like a shield than anything.
Her grey blue eyes weren't just tired, they were carried something underneath that Soren didn't want to name and get his hopes up.
"Didn't think you'd be awake," she said, stepping into his space without waiting for an invitation.
The sharp edge in her voice faltered as her pupils dilated, meeting his gaze.
"I had an expected guest to entertain," Soren replied softly. "I wouldn't want to be rude to as the host."
Soren's lips had turned into a grin by the last word, their eyes locked for a moment as if they were deciding on something.
He didn't invite her, he didn't push her or say anything and waited for her to make the choice.
Reia didn't retreat.
She pushed past him, the faint, comforting scent of lavender clinging to her, and shut the door with a decisive click.
"You're terrible at excuses, Soren."
"Maybe I am." He sat on the edge of the bed, patting the space beside him. "Or maybe I'm just bad at hiding what I want."
Reia hesitated, then sank onto the mattress beside him.
She didn't lean in, or out immediately. She simply sat there, the heat from her thigh bleeding through hers and into his trousers.
She brought with her a faint smell of what smelt like lavender and hibiscus. It was very faint, the kind that came from cheap soap.
"You're probably just restless. Can't sleep," she comented with a roll of her eyes.
"True," Soren said, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "But would you believe me if I said I couldn't sleep because you weren't here?"
Reia rolled her eyes again, but the corners of her mouth twitched. "That was painfully corny."
"You're lucky you're pretty enough to make me say things like that," he really wasn't holding back on the corniness.
A genuine laugh escaped her. It was quick small, breathless, and rare. "You're lucky you have a pretty face yourself."
The laughter died down, leaving a charged silence in its wake.
Reia turned to face him fully. Her guard was lowering, but her eyes remained guarded.
"The rumors say you're different, Soren. That you're... shy. That you're not the kind of man women expect."
Soren understood. In this bodies past life, the trauma and circumstances the previous Soren had gone through made him retreat from desire entirely.
Even still, this Soren wasn't the aggressive predator most men in this town pretended to be and that was something Reia painfully noticed.
He looked at her properly.
Really looked at her noticing the way her shoulders slumped when she thought he wasn't watching and how her finger shook faintly when she was nervous.
"And what do you think?" he asked, his voice dropping to a rough murmur.
He didn't reach for her yet; he simply leaned closer, giving her every chance to pull away. "That I'm just another pretty face with nothing underneath?"
Reia's breath hitched. Her hand moved instinctively, her fingers resting lightly on his knee.
"I...I think you're a man who listens too well." Feeling the hand on his knee, Soren felt his throat bob.
"...And I think I've been alone in this inn for far too long." Her voice cracked slightly, revealing the exhaustion beneath with a sigh at the end.
"I need to forget, Soren. I need to forget about everything...the customers, and tomorrow. Just for tonight."
She was offering herself as an escape, bracing herself for the transactional roughness she expected.
But when Soren reached out, his touch wasn't demanding or instantly jumping at the opportunity.
His thumb brushed her lower lip with agonizing tenderness, studying her expression as if asking for permission to proceed.
"Reia," he whispered, his eyes locked on hers. "If we do this, I won't be able to stay gentle forever."
"You...you don't have to be," she whispered back, though her heart hammered against her ribs.
"I want the easy way. No questions. No feelings. Just... this."
She leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that started desperate and hungry. She wanted to drown in him.
But as Soren responded, his kiss wasn't the clumsy thrust of a stranger; it was slow, deliberate, and achingly sweet.
He tasted like heat and promise, and for a moment, her internal walls crumbled for just a moment.
Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she shifted, straddling his lap to bring their bodies flush together.
When his hands finally slid up her thighs, finding the soft swell of her ass, he didn't squeeze roughly.
He held her firmly, grounding her, his thumbs tracing circles that made her hips involuntary arch against him and make her gasp.
A moan broke from her throat a sound of pure, unguarded need.
"You're... mm... you're not supposed to be this good at this," she panted against his mouth, her eyes dark with a mix of lust and disbelief.
Soren nipped at her earlobe, making her tremble slightly from his breath hot against her sensitive skin. "I've been told I'm full of surprises."
He had a soft grin on his face, one that showed he was enjoying every moment, and somehow, that made her more fired up than if it wasn't there.
Reia pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her fingers gripping his shoulders hard enough to bruise.
A challenge flashed in those tired eyes. "Then stop talking, Soren. Surprise me more."
She straddled him and pushed him down and their lips locked fiercely in a way that made them hotter by the second.