The Incubus System Chapter 1154. Are You Psychoanalyzing Me?

The Incubus System Chapter 1154. Are You Psychoanalyzing Me?

And I still didn’t quite understand why.

But maybe that was the thing about emotions.

About love.

It wasn’t something I could measure. It wasn’t logical. It was abstract. It was messy.

And maybe… maybe that was okay.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

Tiffany was still watching me, her gaze curious.

I smirked slightly. “Are you psychoanalyzing me right now?”

She huffed. “Not intentionally.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Well, for what it’s worth… I don’t get it either.”

Tiffany raised a brow. “Get what?”

I shrugged. “Why people fall for me.”

She stared at me for a moment. Then, suddenly, she burst out laughing.

I scowled. “What?”

Tiffany wiped a tear from her eye, still grinning. “Oh, that’s rich.”

I crossed my arms. “I’m serious!”

She smirked, sipping the last of her milkshake. “Well, I’m not interested in explaining it to you anyway. It's not something I can just spell out. If that tortures you, so be it.”

She laughed—a playful, teasing laugh. Then she reached for her popcorn chicken, popping a piece into her mouth with a smug little grin. As if she'd somehow inflicted emotional warfare on me through curiosity alone.

I shot her a flat stare. The kind of flat stare that said, ‘seriously?’ But let's be real—my annoyance was totally fake. I wasn’t actually irritated at her teasing. Quite the opposite: hearing Tiffany openly admit—even indirectly—that she had feelings for me made my chest feel oddly warm.

But there was still one huge problem.

Sure, I could add Tiffany to my harem. Easily. But before anything happened, I needed her to know exactly who—and what—I really was. But how the hell was I supposed to drop that particular bombshell?

"Oh, by the way, Tiff, I'm actually a demon lord who also happens to be the incubus you've probably heard about in briefings. But hey, cool right? Wanna move in with me?"

Yeah, that’d go over real well.

So instead of blurting out anything stupid, I stayed silent. The quiet stretched long enough that Tiffany's amused expression slowly faded into concern.

“Hey.” She leaned forward, suddenly worried. “Did I hit a nerve or something? You went silent.”

I blinked, snapping back to reality. "Huh? Nah, it's nothing. Just thinking."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Thinking about what?”

I hesitated, quickly searching for a decent excuse. But before I could invent one, a familiar female voice called out from behind me.

“Oh! Master! What are you doing here?”

My blood turned ice-cold. My back stiffened like someone had just jabbed an electric prod between my shoulder. Oh, hell no. Not now.

I turned to find Miranda standing beside our booth, her casual dress clinging comfortably to her curves. She was confident, with an easy grace that made heads turn as she walked by. It was so different than when I met her the first time. Two other women—probably friends—stood behind her, looking at me curiously.

Panic clawed at my throat, because Miranda knew me in both forms—Ethan and Damian, human and the great demon. Her master. The catch? We'd never interacted in public like this, especially not when I was out eating burgers casually in broad daylight.

“Master?” Tiffany echoed, eyes narrowing instantly as she glanced sharply between Miranda and me. Her curiosity was unmistakable—mixed with a hint of jealousy and a solid dose of suspicion.

‘Oh shit. Damage control, Ethan. Damage control!’

“Ah, Miranda!” I quickly raised my hand, motioning in a frantic gesture meant to say. ‘Don't call me Master here, dammit!’

Miranda's eyes widened slightly as realization clicked. A smooth professional, she instantly adjusted her demeanor, her playful smile never wavering. “Oh, I'm so sorry, Ethan. It's just a nickname! You know, because you're always helping me... with my... projects.”

Nice save, Miranda. Real smooth.

I forced a nervous laugh. “Haha, yeah, that’s right. I'm uh, helpful like that.”

Tiffany didn't buy it for a second. “Projects?” she repeated slowly, skepticism dripping from every syllable. “You two know each other?”

Miranda quickly slipped into the booth behind us, giving her friends a reassuring smile that said, ‘I'll be just a minute.’

“Oh, absolutely,” Miranda said cheerfully. “Ethan's been giving me some great... advice lately.” She winked at me in a way that did absolutely nothing to help.

Tiffany raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. “Advice on what exactly?”

“Oh, you know, life things.” Miranda fluttered a dismissive hand, flashing me a small apologetic look. “Sorry for interrupting your date!”

“It's not a date,” Tiffany and I blurted simultaneously.

Miranda’s smirk widened. “Oh, of course not.” She leaned in slightly, eyes twinkling with mischief. “But if it were, you'd have my approval. Ethan is a nice man.”

Heat rushed to Tiffany's face again, her expression now torn between embarrassment and annoyance. I groaned inwardly. Miranda was not helping my situation. At all.

I forced a smile, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. “Uh, thanks, Miranda. Always appreciate your... support.”

She chuckled softly, glancing meaningfully at Tiffany. “Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. Didn't mean to interrupt.”

Her eyes lingered on me just a beat longer, silently asking if everything was okay. I gave her a subtle nod. Miranda understood immediately, rising gracefully from the booth.

“Well, enjoy your meal.” She waved goodbye, moving effortlessly back to her waiting friends, their whispered laughter floating back to us.

The moment she disappeared, Tiffany turned her full attention back to me, eyes sharp as daggers. “Master, huh? Seriously?”

I groaned softly, dragging a hand down my face. “Look, Tiff. It's complicated.”

She snorted. “No kidding. Your whole life seems complicated.”

I sighed dramatically, pushing away my half-eaten burger. “You have no idea.”

She studied me, her gaze softening a fraction. “Ethan... if something’s going on, you can tell me.”

I hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I know. And I want to, eventually. But I just—I don't know how yet.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, thoughtful now. “It's big, isn't it?”

“Yeah,” I admitted quietly. “Pretty huge.”

She sighed softly, leaning back in the booth. “Then I'll wait. Just promise me you'll tell me when you're ready.”

“I promise,” I said, voice sincere. My chest loosened slightly, grateful she was giving me room to breathe.