A Game Of Chess With A Vampire
Chapter 367: Lumian?

Chapter 367: Lumian?

Olive dilated his eyes at him, annoyed.

"You—"

"It doesn’t matter if it’s your house or not. You shouldn’t make your guest uncomfortable!" Valentine scoffed.

"Guest?" Olive looked at him in amusement, miffed. "You aren’t a guest if you came to my fucking house unannounced. Not even Loui comes to my house like this!"

Valentine glanced at him and stood up to his feet. "I guess I’m special then." He began to unbutton his shirt.

"You wish." Olive threw his head back, shutting his eyes in weariness.

Valentine laughed, opening the last button on his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Olive asked, his head still thrown back on the sofa.

"’Too hot." Valentine’s voice was low and barely audible.

"Huh?" Olive finally lifted her head and glanced at him. He was all red as if he had a very bad fever. "What’s wrong with you?" He was sincerely apprehensive.

Valentine shook his head at him. "I’m not sure. But I think it’s my heat."

"Oh? What about the suppressants? Weren’t you supposed to get one from your father?" Olive probed.

Valentine nodded. "Mhm, I was supposed to, but we are unfortunately out of suppressants. Not even Draven or Ryan got one. None of us did, so it wasn’t just me."

"I see." Olive clicked his tongue. "That’s bad news for you, isn’t it?"

Valentine shrugged.

"I suppose. But it’s not a big deal. I’m fine."

"Are you sure?" Olive raised a brow at him. "I mean, I don’t mind taking you out to have some fun. You want to heal your trauma, don’t you?" His lips arched into a smile.

"You’re an asshole." Valentine glared at him, dropping his shirt on the table.

Olive frowned at him. "What did I do? I’m just trying to help you."

"It can’t be helped, you should know that by now." Valentine was getting very peeved. "I have tried multiple times, but it’s just not working. That trauma is stuck with me, and that’s it. I don’t even care anymore. I’ll live."

Olive stared at him, what seemed like sympathy flickering in his pupils.

Valentine noticed. He spoke in a nettled tone. "Don’t look at me like that, Olive. It pisses me off. If you look at me anymore with those pitiful eyes, I will gauge them out, I swear!’

"Sorry..." Olive let out a soft breath, shifting his gaze to his bare upper body. "Come to think of it, your waist is really...narrowed." He grabbed Valentine’s wrist, pulling him closer to him to get a better look. "How come?"

"What do you mean?" Valentine furrowed his brows as he looked down at him and at his fingers that had gripped his hip, as though examining him.

Olive lifted his hand, gently tracing from his belly button to measure his waist with the gap of his hand. "This is what I mean. So narrow, it looks like you haven’t eaten anything in four days. But on the other hand, it’s really...you have, um, a really nice shape? I don’t know—sort of feminine, I think. I’ve noticed your trousers hang perfectly on your waist as if they’re tailored just for you. Are they?"

"I believe that’s because I am thin." Valentine almost laughed in mockery of himself. "I am not like you guys, full of muscles and a toned physique."

Olive frowned, taken aback. "What do you mean by that?" He lifted his head, meeting Valentine’s gaze.

Valentine looked into his eyes, curling the sides of his lips into a cynical smile.

"The lucky would never understand. How do you think I feel, knowing I would never look different than this, no matter how hard I try?" he asked, sighing. "I’d like to look intimidating and strong and not have people assume that I’m weak at first sight. Some go as far as to think that I don’t eat enough, and believe me, some have mistaken me for a woman. Which is stupid?"

"My father has insulted me too, and the ones who care feel the urge to protect me because I also look weak in their eyes. Someone like...Lumian."

"Lumian?" Olive asked.

Valentine sighed, switching, "Women don’t really like me, you know. I’m not the version of the men that they fantasize about." He laughed.

"And how would you know?" Olive rubbed his temple, still absentmindedly tracing his fingers on his hot skin.

"You don’t get to talk." Valentine frowned at him. "You are what they want. Strong-looking, tall, and handsome—you literally have everything they want. And that is why it is easy for you to get a hold of any woman you want. You are also less pale than we are, which is a plus point for you. Similar to humans."

"Because I am mixed, you are aware of that." Olive crossed his legs and adjusted on the sofa. "I don’t really get why you hate your body, Valentine, but you look just fine to me. Also, a lot of ladies seem to like you and—"

"Because I’m a prince. They don’t really do, but it is just my status that entices them." Valentine cut him off, sitting on the table, close and opposite him.

Olive sat up properly on his couch, just a few inches apart from him. "Does it matter?" he asked, staring into his eyes. "You have to learn to enjoy what you have instead of grieving over what you wish you could have."

"Besides..." His eyes searched Valentine’s face. "You are really prettier than most females, so many of them seem to feel intimidated by you." He burst into laughter.

Valentine pressed his hands on the table for support and lifted his leg, stomping him on the chest. "You are crazy for saying that."

"I’m just being honest." Olive shrugged innocently. "You would most definitely look better than any wife you may have later on. If I were a woman, I’d be intimate too. Also, you look quite young for your age. Remember, I did mistake you for a kiddo because you looked like a grown adult teenage boy coupled with your small nature. Perhaps that is why. Hahahahha, I’m sure there are women that love your type!" He couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

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