The Incubus System Chapter 789. Proper Meal (Patreon)

The Incubus System Chapter 789. Proper Meal

"Yo, I'm back!" I hollered as I sauntered into the living room, a bag of goodies in one hand. My gang of pets – Red, Foxy, Buni, Shadow, and Rave – snapped to attention. Their reactions ranged from bounding excitement to nonchalant indifference, but I could tell they were all happy to see me.

After a little adventure with Elenna, which involved opening portals and introducing her to the quirks of the dark dimension, I was finally back home. I'd shifted back into my human form. Elenna had been a bundle of excitement throughout, and we'd made plans for a future stroll through the demon realm.

The scent of something delicious wafted through the air, leading me to the kitchen where Celia stood, apron-clad and looking just a touch annoyed. She had that whole mom vibe going on, complete with the disapproving raised eyebrow.

"Hey there, chef extraordinaire," I greeted her, my lips quirking into a teasing smile.

Celia let out an exasperated sigh, her hands on her hips. "Don't 'chef extraordinaire' me, mister. You're lucky I didn't eat everything myself," she retorted, her words softened by a playful glint in her eyes. "What took you so long?" Celia quipped, her voice a blend of annoyance and concern. She had that look – the kind of look a mom would give her kid coming home way past curfew.

I let out a chuckle, dropping onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. "Well, I got caught up in a few things," I admitted, reaching into the bag. "And, you know, the store was kinda far."

Celia rolled her eyes in a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Excuses, excuses," she retorted, playfully wagging her finger at me.

I smirked and pulled out the snacks – drinks, cookies, and some caramel puddings. "But hey, I come bearing peace offerings," I declared, waving the goodies triumphantly.

Red was already by my side, wagging his tail in excitement. Foxy had no qualms about showing her eagerness. Buni perked up in interest.

Shadow lazily stretched on his chosen perch. And Rave observed from his usual vantage point.

Celia gave a feigned huff, but the hint of a smile tugged at her lips. "Fine, fine. You're off the hook this time," she conceded, crossing her arms in mock defeat.

I raised an eyebrow in mock innocence. "Thanks. You're the best."

Celia's eyes softened. "You're lucky you're cute, otherwise you'd be in trouble," she remarked, reaching out to take the bag from me.

I chuckled softly, well aware that I was on the receiving end of the classic sibling skepticism. "Don't worry, I won't make it a habit," I assured her.

"Dinnertime, folks!" Tiffany chimed in, her voice cheerful. With practiced grace, she dished out the steaming spaghetti onto plates, the tantalizing aroma filling the air.

As I approached my plate, my culinary preferences kicked in. "Hey, Tiff, can you hook me up with some extra sauce?" I requested, flashing her a charming grin.

Celia, who was a culinary whiz and a self-proclaimed sauce connoisseur, didn't miss a beat. "Nuh-uh. The sauce-to-pasta ratio has to be on point," she asserted, her tone firm but playful.

I arched an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Oh, come on. A little extra sauce won't hurt anyone. It's all about that flavor explosion."

Celia rolled her eyes with a smirk. "Sure, and next you'll tell me you want a side of sauce to dip your sauce in."

I chuckled, enjoying the back-and-forth. "Now that you mention it..."

Tiffany, meanwhile, was busy assembling her own plate, a knowing smile playing on her lips. It was evident that this family dinner was a cherished moment for her, a sense of normalcy that she had missed.

"Hey, plates are ready," Tiffany announced, her voice brimming with a happiness that was infectious. She set down the plates, her movements efficient yet filled with a newfound lightness.

I took my plate and glanced at Celia, mischief dancing in my eyes. "Just a tad more sauce, please? For the culture."

Celia sighed in mock exasperation, but there was affection there. "Oh, fine. But only because it's you."

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, I took the sauce and poured it generously over my pasta, much to Celia's chagrin. "See, balance restored," I declared triumphantly.

Celia let out an indignant huff and reached for my spoon, determined to rectify my "culinary crime." But I was too quick, lifting my plate out of her reach with a mischievous grin. In classic sibling fashion, I even threw in a playful tongue-sticking gesture just to push her buttons a little more.

"Snail," I laughed, thoroughly enjoying her reaction.

"Hey, snails are pretty cool creatures," she retorted, her annoyance feigned but her eyes dancing.

"Annoying creatures, you mean," I shot back, my tone laced with a mock teasing tone.

Amid our lighthearted bickering, Tiffany's laughter bubbled forth, a delightful chorus that blended with the cozy ambiance of our family gathering.

"Alright, you two," Tiffany interjected, her tone laced with amusement. "Enough sauce wars for one night. Let's eat before it gets cold."

Grins were exchanged between us, and we both directed our attention toward Tiffany, who was clearly the star of our spontaneous family dinner. "Sounds like a plan. Food's calling our names," I chimed in with a grin.

Tiffany led the way to the dining table, and we settled into our seats with a collective sense of anticipation. The spread before us was simple but incredibly inviting. As we each took our places, the scent of the food filled the air, making my stomach growl in eager agreement.

Without further ado, we dug in. Forks clinked against plates, the symphony of a satisfying meal beginning. The taste of the food was as comforting as it was delicious.

Celia's fork moved with precision, her focus on each bite clear. "Tiff, you've really outdone yourself," she complimented between mouthfuls.

Tiffany beamed at the praise, her eyes sparkling with happiness. " I rarely cook for other people. I'm glad you like it. It's been a while since I've had a proper meal together.”

I couldn't agree more. Each bite felt like a step back in time, a reminder of the times when life was simpler.