The One and Only Sami Chapter 41

To the beat of the rhythmic patting on his body, Sami’s eyelids began to droop, closing slowly.

He hadn’t thought he was tired—in fact, he felt so high-strung that his temples throbbed with sensitivity—but the pleasant scent, the soft blankets, and the warm hand stroking his back sent sleep rushing in.

I’m twenty now, an adult who should be dignified.

Lately, it seemed he slept even more than he did as a child.

“I’m curious… what the view is like from high up, and I want to… take things out from places I can’t see…”

“Is that so? I’m curious about other things myself.”

Razard spoke, having patiently listened to every one of Sami’s slowing words. He continued to talk in a leisurely tone, his hand still going tap, tap against Sami’s back.

“Like… what?”

“Shall I keep it a secret for now?”

Nod. With his eyes now more than half-closed, Sami knitted his brows.

“You’re so mean…”

“Haha, just get some rest today. I’m thinking of taking you somewhere tomorrow or the day after.”

“Going out? Outside… the palace…?”

“Yes, outside the palace.”

“You won’t tell me… where, will you…”

The man always spoke with such ambiguity, like the moon hidden behind a halo. He was clear when he felt like it, but otherwise, he was a constant riddle that left Sami feeling frustrated and pouty.

But whenever he tried to press for answers, sleepiness always found him first. He was too tired to hold on any longer.

“…Aren’t you… going to sleep, Razard?”

“I have some work to finish; I’ll join you when I’m done.”

Razard brushed aside the soft hair covering Sami’s forehead and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin.

“Goodnight, Sami.”

Did he even hear the goodbye? With that final question, Sami seemed to lose consciousness entirely. His neck went limp, his chest rose and fell slightly, and he drifted into a deep sleep, breathing softly and slowly.

Razard stopped patting him and gazed down at the weary face.

“The things you’re curious about…”

Sami, as for me.

“I wonder how much help you can truly be to me.”

His low, sweet voice—much like the fragrance filling the bedroom—leaked out as faint as a lullaby.

“And when my curse will end. Those are the things I’m curious about.”

Words tend to carry power, and as Razard finished speaking, his eyes shimmered with an eerie intensity. He stared at Sami without so much as a blink.

With a faint smile, Razard used his thumb to gently stroke Sami’s eyelids, which had fallen shut with unnatural speed. The ring on his finger sparkled less than usual, shrouded in a veil of white smoke.

“Haha…”

He adored every version of Sami: the one who didn’t know what to do with his shame, the one who looked at him in dazed confusion, and the one whose face went white with trembling fear. But lately, his favorite was this Sami—fast asleep with his mouth slightly parted.

A state where his consciousness was abruptly snapped away, not by his own will, but by a dense sleeping incense.

“I thought I’d let you sleep peacefully today, but…”

His hand was still measuring Sami’s eyelids. Checking if they flickered at his touch, or if the neck muscles tensed. Then, he lifted a limp finger only to let it drop—thud, thud—confirming that the body had completely melted into sleep.

“You say you want to move your body. Do you have too much energy to spare?”

Now that he thought about it, he had let him sleep quietly for a few days. Razard hooked a finger into the corner of the blanket he had personally tucked in and slowly pulled it back. It was a secretive gesture, like lifting the hem of a lady’s skirt.

“If you’re feeling restless because you can’t move, shouldn’t I, as your master, help you out a bit?”

His touch soon reached the area of Sami’s neck.

It was a touch heavy with intent, but the sleeping Sami had no way of knowing.

There was no sign of caution in Razard’s movements. As if it weren’t his first time, he didn’t hesitate to touch the sleeping boy’s skin.

There was a reason why Razard only smiled without a word whenever Sami grumbled about being lethargic and sleeping too much lately. He was the culprit, after all.

“Shall we work a little harder today, Sami?”

He spoke tenderly to a partner who couldn’t possibly respond.

As someone well-versed in magic and curses, the medicines and scents Razard handled were extraordinary. He only dealt with sophisticated varieties that left no resistance or side effects, no matter how often they were used. The soft fragrance currently wafting through the bedroom was no different.

It had already been fifteen days since he started burning the sleeping incense in this room.

Razard placed the back of his hand against Sami’s neck. The pulse fluttered softly. He tapped his fingertips in time with that rhythm. His gaze naturally followed where his hands probed and caressed.

The limp neck was thin and long, making the thin necklace wrapped in two or three layers look good on him. Razard slid his finger between the necklace and the skin beneath it. He quite liked the sensation of the metal warmed by body heat, so he toyed with the ornaments, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger.

Sami still found these decorations awkward. Because of that, he looked a bit clumsy, like he was wearing clothes that didn’t fit, but that was cute in its own way. He had lived twenty years as a shabby servant; his style wasn’t going to change just because he’d been raised by Razard’s hand for twenty days.

Such things could be tamed slowly, day by day. Razard had other, more urgent matters.

“Hmm.”

Razard supported the necklace with the tip of his index finger, letting it clatter as he swept over it, then let his finger slide away. He spread his palm wide and cupped Sami’s left breast.

“Is he just dense, or does he still lack the capacity to look after his own body?”

A body that knew nothing of the changes happening within it. Even the breath that rose and fell was faint.

Even when he tried to look on dryly, a sudden laugh escaped him. A body without resistance was truly lovely in the sense that he could control even its very breath.

“Not that knowing would change anything.”

He felt a bit sorry for touching him so freely without permission, but having designated the human’s position as a ‘pet,’ it seemed foolish to ask permission for every little touch.

He peeled back the thin silk clothes wrapped around Sami’s body like layers of gift wrap. Even as the clothes were being stripped away, the unaware body remained weary and docile.

“Even your chest knows what’s happening, yet you’re the only one who doesn’t.”

He touched the exposed chest after pushing the collar aside. The flat, tiny nipple, robbed of the fabric that shielded it and pressed by Razard’s finger, began to grow firm. What was once so small he couldn’t even pick it up had now learned to stand tall enough to catch against his finger.

While one hand toyed with Sami’s chest, the other pulled a small vial of medicine from his waist. He shook the slender, pinky-sized bottle near Sami’s ear, causing the boy to subconsciously flinch. Even in sleep, the body had been trained to know what that ‘splashing sound’ signified.

“Shall we begin?”

He tilted the bottle and let a single drop fall onto each side of Sami’s chest. Sami’s body jerked once at the coldness hitting his nipples, but it wasn’t enough to wake him. It only caused the tips of his breasts to swell more plumply as they soaked up the moisture.

Razard put the bottle away with practiced ease. Then, he propped his chin on his hand and turned on his side next to the sleeping Sami. He watched Sami’s sleeping face intently, waiting for the medicine to soak into his chest.

Because of the earlier flinching, hair was scattered across his forehead and the bridge of his nose, but his breathing remained deep and heavy. His limbs were swallowed by sleep and sprawled out, but his chest and waist twitched uncomfortably—a sight worth seeing.

“…?”

Before long, Sami mumbled and tried to lift a hand to touch his chest. He seemed to feel an itch.

Can’t have that.

Razard lightly brushed Sami’s hand away and placed his own finger back on that chest. Considering he touched him directly like this ‘every day,’ one might say Sami lacked the ability to learn since he still tried to reach for it himself.

Razard rolled his index finger against the nipple as if flicking it. As he flicked, rubbed, and massaged the already erect peak, the pale areola and nipple began to swell into a reddish hue.