You were just trying to cook—nothing fancy. Soup. Maybe rice.

But behind you… was warm skin. Bare.

Soft thighs pressed against the backs of your legs. Full hips brushing your waist. Arms slid around you slowly, deliberately.

“Trainer…” came her breathy whisper. “You didn’t call me, but… I felt your hunger echo through the walls.”

You stiffened. She was completely naked. Not even socks. Just your Hex Maniac, pressing every inch of her body against yours like she was trying to melt into your shadow.

“I was making dinner,” you said, trying not to look down. Or back. Or anywhere near her chest. “Like, real food.”

She hummed against your shoulder. “But wouldn’t you rather have something warm, soft, and already clinging to you?”