The Incubus System Chapter 1149. I’m Not That Naive

The Incubus System Chapter 1149. I’m Not That Naive

We both just… stood there. Lingering.

Neither of us was in a rush to leave.

Tiffany sucked in a deep breath, then huffed it out. “I don’t know why I thought it’d be different this time.”

I raised a brow. “Hope?”

She scoffed. “Nah. I’m not that naive.”

I smirked. “That’s debatable.” There was a hint of bitterness in my voice.

She nudged me with her elbow, rolling her eyes. But there was something softer about her now. Like the worst part had already passed. “Alright,” she sighed. “What now?”

I stretched, cracking my neck. “Now? Food. Celia wants something sweet. But I need a real meal first. You pick the place.”

Tiffany hummed, following me outside.

The moment we stepped through the front doors, the city air hit us—warm, thick, full of the scent of exhaust and distant food stalls. The usual hum of traffic, conversations, and blaring car horns filled the streets, grounding us back into something more familiar.

Tiffany pulled out her phone. “There’s a diner a few blocks from here. Burgers, fries, and I think they have some good milkshakes.”

I grinned. “That works.”

We started walking, weaving through the crowds of office workers and students, the afternoon sun casting long shadows between the buildings.

Tiffany was quiet for a while, before she spoke again, “…Hey.”

I glanced at her. “Yeah?”

She frowned slightly, fingers tapping against her phone before she shoved it back into her jacket. “Do you ever feel like… I don’t know. We should be angrier?”

I raised a brow. “Angrier?”

“Yeah. Like—we just walked out of there, right? She said all that crap, and yet… I don’t feel as pissed as I thought I would.”

I thought about it. I knew exactly what she meant. It wasn’t that the anger was gone. It was still there. But it didn’t feel as… raw. As all-consuming. It just felt like part of the past now. I exhaled. “I think it’s because we’re not stuck in it anymore.”

Tiffany’s gaze flicked to me.

I shrugged. “We’ve got our own lives now. We’ve got better things to focus on. She’s not the one pulling the strings anymore. We are.”

Tiffany was silent for a moment, then snorted. “Damn. That was almost wise of you.”

I grinned. “I have my moments.”

She rolled her eyes, but her expression had softened.

We walked the next few blocks in a more comfortable silence, the tension from before finally easing.

The diner was small, tucked between two larger buildings with a neon sign buzzing faintly above the door. The scent of grilled meat, toasted buns, and vanilla milkshakes hit us the second we stepped inside. The old-school booths, checkered floors, and the faint sound of some 90s song playing in the background made the place feel like a time capsule.

Tiffany slid into a booth, grabbing a menu. “You’re paying, right?”

I scoffed. “You think I won’t after what we just went through?”

She grinned. “Good. I’m ordering the biggest milkshake on the menu.”

I shook my head, flagging down the waitress. “Yeah, yeah. Knock yourself out.”

The waitress, a girl who looked barely out of high school, with a bored expression and a name tag that read ‘Maya,’ tapped her pen against her notepad. “You want the Mega Choco Madness? It comes with extra whipped cream, chocolate drizzle, and a brownie on top.”

Tiffany’s eyes lit up. “Hell yes. Also grilled cheese sandwiches and chicken popcorn.”

Maya barely reacted, just writing it down before looking at me. “And for you?”

I skimmed the menu briefly before settling on something simple. “Double cheeseburger, fries, and a coffee.”

Tiffany raised a brow. “Coffee? After today?”

I smirked. “I need something bitter to balance out your sugar overload.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

Maya finished scribbling down our order. “Alright. Food should be out soon.”

She walked off, disappearing behind the counter. The diner was buzzing with low conversation, the occasional sound of a metal spatula scraping against a grill coming from the open kitchen. The air smelled like grilled beef, melted cheese, and vanilla.

I leaned back in the booth, stretching my legs under the table. Tiffany did the same, tilting her head slightly. “So…” she started, her voice more casual now. “How are you and Celia?”

I blinked, surprised by the shift in topic.

“We’re good,” I said after a moment. “She was a bit down when we got the letter. Refused to go.”

Tiffany nodded slowly, tapping her fingers against the table. “I can understand that.”

I exhaled. “Yeah.”

Silence settled between us for a moment before I shifted the focus back to her. “What about you?” I tilted my head slightly. “I mean… you’re living alone now.”

Tiffany’s expression flickered for just a second—a crack in the usual confidence she carried.

She shrugged. “It’s… fine.”

I raised a brow. “Fine?”

She sighed, picking at the edge of her napkin. “I mean, yeah, it’s weird. It’s quiet. I keep thinking I should be doing something, but there’s… nothing to do, you know?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I get that.”

Tiffany scoffed, shaking her head. “I mean, I spent years dealing with those two assholes. Now they’re gone, and I should be happy, right? But—”

“It still feels off.”

She blinked, meeting my gaze.

I gave her a small shrug. “Doesn’t matter how much we hated them. They were still part of our lives. And now that weight just… gone.”

Tiffany exhaled, rubbing her temple. “Yeah. That.” Then, she smirked, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You always do that.”

I raised a brow. “Do what?”

She waved a hand. “Say the thing I don’t want to say out loud.”

I smirked. “It’s a talent.”

Tiffany huffed, then leaned back, stretching her arms over her head. The tension from earlier had eased slightly, but I could still see the way her fingers twitched against her arm, like she was trying to keep herself grounded.

Then, before I could steer the conversation further, she gave me a sideways glance.

“So.”