My Idle System

Chapter 368: A Quiet Ride

Inside a luxury van moving steadily from Ashvale toward Washington, the interior was quiet.

Soft ambient lighting ran along the ceiling, reflecting faintly off polished surfaces and dark-tinted windows. The city lights outside blurred into streaks as the vehicle cut through the night, insulated from the outside world, leaving only the three of them inside.

Christian sat in the middle of the salon-style seating, with Anastasia on his right and Eva on his left.

Under any other circumstances it would have been perfect — two breathtaking women within arm's reach, close enough to feel their warmth.

Yet none of that mattered.

Because right now, he felt like he was sitting on needles.

Eva had greeted Anastasia politely at the start, tone composed and respectful. Anastasia had replied — brief, controlled, distant. Nothing seemed wrong then. But somewhere along the ride the air had shifted.

Christian exhaled quietly, glancing ahead for a moment before forcing himself to speak.

"Anyway… what did you think about the fight?" he asked, then added, "More specifically, Nina."

From the battle earlier, Nina had improved noticeably, she even advanced to the second circle, and he was genuinely impressed.

Yet— "Barely acceptable."

Was the answer he received.

Christian blinked, turning slightly toward her.

"Barely?" he repeated. "You might not know this, but she's self-taught, and it's only been a little over a year since she even learned about essence."

"I already considered that," she said calmly. "That is why I said 'acceptable.'"

"Otherwise, her evaluation would have been significantly lower."

"Oh." The response slipped out of Christian before he could stop it.

He leaned back slightly, a faint, awkward smile tugging at his lips as he looked ahead again.

That… didn't go the way he expected.

What he didn't know was that by Anastasia's standards… standards shaped far beyond anything this world offered — "acceptable" was already a high evaluation.

But none of that was said aloud, and the conversation died as quickly as it had begun.

Christian didn't have time to search for another topic before Anastasia suddenly closed her eyes.

For a moment, he blinked.

Is she going to sleep? Like this?

His gaze flickered briefly over her posture — perfectly straight, composed even at rest.

On this short trip? No…

Another thought slipped in.

Or is she avoiding something?

One question followed another, stacking quietly in his mind.

They had already finished everything related to the Ashvale. Or more precisely, Eva had handled the final exchange. There was nothing left tying them there.

Now, they were on their way to Washington.

To his house.

To Annabelle.

Naturally, if the opportunity presented itself, he would have preferred asking Anastasia to take them there directly.

But it wasn't necessary.

The distance was manageable. A few hours at most.

And with Eva sitting beside him…

He could endure it.

His thoughts lingered on Anastasia for another moment, trying to decode the meaning behind such a simple action.

Then, just as quickly, he let it go.

Christian continued looking at her side-profile though, a smile tugging at his lips.

Should he tease her?

He actually considered it for a second, his gaze drifting toward her closed eyes, her stillness almost inviting it.

But before the thought could take shape, his attention drifted.

To the other side.

To Eva.

She hadn't moved, yet there was a quiet tension in the way she held herself, as if her mind had been caught somewhere else entirely.

Under the soft lighting of the van, her features stood out more clearly.

Her blonde hair fell neatly past her shoulders, smooth and carefully kept, with a slight inward curve at the ends that framed her face. A few loose strands rested near her collar, catching the light with a faint sheen.

Her attire remained as formal as ever.

A fitted blazer rested over a crisp shirt, the fabric pulled taut in places, hinting at the shape beneath. The buttons held firm, though not without effort, the subtle strain only making the contrast more noticeable. Her trousers followed clean lines down her legs, emphasizing her mature, composed figure without drawing unnecessary attention.

Refined. Elegant. And yet — something restless simmered just beneath.

Christian's gaze lingered for a fraction longer than it should have.

Then he moved.

Leaning slightly closer, he slipped one arm around her shoulder in a motion that felt almost casual.

Eva's thoughts scattered the instant she felt him pull her closer. Whatever she had been considering vanished.

For a brief moment before that, she had been tempted to ask Anastasia about her body condition, and the problem she faced.

But now—

None of it seemed to matter.

Like before, she left it to him. Christian would decide if it was necessary.

Her body relaxed into his side, soft warmth pressing against solid muscle.

When she looked up, her sky-blue eyes, faintly tinted with gray, met his green ones — and she found mischief there.

She felt it first in the smallest movement.

His fingers.

They brushed lightly against the front of her shirt, then lingered, as if testing the boundary.

One button. Then another.

Each movement was unhurried, almost teasing in its pace, as though he had all the time in the world.

Eva didn't stop him. Didn't even move to. Instead, the faintest smile touched her lips.

The opening widened gradually, the fabric parting enough to reveal the deep valley between her breasts, along with the edge of her bra — black lace against pale skin.

Only then did his hand pause — appreciating. Then it slipped inside. Past fabric. Past barrier. Until warm fingers closed around soft, heavy flesh.

He kneaded; gentle at first, then firmer, letting out a quiet sigh at the familiar weight he'd missed for months.

Eva bit her lip. To him it might have felt controlled, measured. But to her — after so long apart. It wasn't.

The mix of the sudden touch, the slow pace, and the quiet, dangerous setting made everything overwhelming.

Her thighs moved, pressing together once… then again. Subtle friction building.

Noticing that, Christian let his other hand move lower, fingers slipping toward the waistband of her trousers. This time, he was even more careful, undoing only what was necessary before sliding his hand inside.

The moment he felt the slick heat waiting for him, he leaned to her ear.

"Drenched already?"

His breath, hot, against her ear, and the finger dragging slowly over her slit, sent a sharp shiver through her.

And Eva couldn't hold it back.

"Ah—"

The sound slipped out before she could stop it.

Her eyes widened instantly as she raised her hand to cover her mouth, pressing her lips shut, forcing the rest down.

But it was too late.

"That's enough."

Anastasia's voice cut through the space, calm — but unmistakably firm.

Christian froze for half a second. Then turned his head, his expression settling into perfect innocence.

"What do you mean?" he asked, as if genuinely confused.

Anastasia's mismatched eyes were open now. Focused. Unamused.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice just because my eyes were closed?"

Christian blinked once, as if processing her words, then tilted his head slightly.

"…Hmm?"

His expression, seemed to say; what are you taking about

"So it wasn't that you thought I was asleep… you thought I was an idiot."

He opened his mouth slightly, as if about to respond, but—

"Take your hands out," she said, as a faint pressure settled in the air. "If you don't want to lose them."

The weight in her tone left no room for argument.

Christian held her gaze a second longer, then coughed — as if smoothing an awkward moment, and withdrew his hand slowly.

Eva stayed still beside him, breathing uneven, suspended in unfinished ache.

The pressure receded.

Silence returned.

But Christian wasn't quite done.

He lifted his glistening fingers, studied them thoughtfully — then, deliberately, brought them to his lips and licked them clean.

Anastasia frowned. But she said nothing.

His eyes met hers again — quiet, provocative, testing the line.

For a moment neither moved.

Then Anastasia looked away.

And this time — she didn't close her eyes again.

The rest of the ride passed without incident.

But the silence that filled the van now was sharper.

More aware… and far less forgiving.