Chapter 368: Peeking Hyacine

Aiden reached out and tenderly brushed aside the damp strands of hair clinging to her cheek.

"Tifa," his voice was low and husky, carrying an undeniable sincerity. "I love you."

There were no detours or elaborate metaphors; it was a simple, direct confession. It dropped like a heavy stone into the serene lake of Tifa's heart, kicking up a thousand towering waves.

Tifa was entirely overwhelmed. She wanted to say something, but her mind had gone completely blank.

"It started a long time ago. I love the gentle look on your face when you cook for us, I love how calm and strong you are on the battlefield, and I loved how you got so flustered and blushed in the living room just now over a single sentence," Aiden continued, gazing deeply into her eyes. "To me, you've never just been a reliable companion. Tifa, I want you to become my real family."

Those words utterly shattered the final defensive wall in Tifa's heart. She had always buried her feelings deep down, silently playing the role of the gentle, dependable older sister, never realizing that he had seen through it all. Tears spilled uncontrollably from her eyes, mingling with the mist of the hot spring. She could resist no longer. Slowly, with a trembling hand, she reached out and gripped Aiden's arm. That simple gesture was her silent answer.

Aiden smiled. He lowered his head, gently kissing away the tear at the corner of her eye, before capturing her soft lips.

Everything happened exactly as it was meant to. The pristine white towel slipped away silently beneath the water, sinking to the bottom, and soon it became impossible to tell who was taking the initiative. The water began to churn violently, crashing against the tiled walls over and over again, splashing countless tiny droplets into the air. Through the hazy steam, only the sound of deliberately muffled, broken whimpers and increasingly heavy, hurried breathing could be heard.

Tifa's slender hands braced tightly against the edge of the hot spring pool, leaving wet prints on the smooth marble, her knuckles turning pale from the strain. She tilted her head back, enduring an unprecedented, storm-like onslaught that made her feel as if her very soul was being knocked out of her body.

An unknown amount of time passed before the tiles beside the pool experienced a searing heat that didn't belong to the water. For the first time, Tifa experienced the shameful yet utterly irresistible sensation of kneeling on the cold, hard floor. All she could do was bury her face in her arms, letting her uncontrollable, tearful moans echo softly in the spacious room.

When everything finally returned to peace, only the pool water continued to ripple tirelessly. A terribly faint, delicate wisp of crimson bloomed quietly in the clear water like an early winter plum blossom, only to be washed away by the warm current a second later, vanishing without a trace as if it had never been there.

Aiden gathered the exhausted, limp Tifa into his arms, letting her rest against his chest as they quietly enjoyed the tranquility following the storm.

However, as Aiden and Tifa lost themselves in each other, exploring the beautiful taboo hidden within the hot spring's mist, neither of them realized that someone else had quietly arrived outside the door.

It was Hyacine.

The meticulous healer had just remembered that Tifa seemed to have gone to bathe without taking a change of clothes. Out of concern, she grabbed a clean set of pajamas and came to deliver them.

Yet, as she approached the hot spring entrance with light footsteps, carrying the clothes, she stopped dead in her tracks. The door wasn't completely shut; a slight gap remained. And leaking through that narrow crack was a sound... a kind of suppressed, rapid panting, accompanied by the fierce splashing of water that she had never heard before.

Hyacine froze, her blue eyes brimming with confusion. Instinctively, she leaned closer, trying to hear more clearly. Then, she heard Tifa's voice. It was fractured and trembling, laced with tears, yet mixed with a strange, heart-racing pitch. Intertwined with it was Aiden's deep, gravelly voice.

In a flash, it was as if a thunderbolt had struck Hyacine's mind. She instantly understood what was happening inside. Her lovely face flushed so red it looked as though it might bleed. Her immediate instinct was to turn and flee this scandalous place, but her legs felt like they were filled with lead, entirely refusing to obey her commands.

Hyacine's gaze was drawn involuntarily to the crack in the door. With just one glance, her entire world seemed to collapse.

Through the rolling steam and dim yellow lights, the first thing she saw was Tifa's flawless, slightly arched back. That back, normally standing so straight and full of strength, was now drawn tight like a fully nocked bow, forming a beautifully fragile curve. Her slender arms braced against the pool's edge, crystalline droplets of water continuously trailing down her pale skin.

And the cause of all this was Aiden, positioned behind her. He loomed like a mountain, completely enveloping Tifa's petite frame in his shadow. Sweat and steam mingled on his pale skin, radiating a wild, primal power. He was claiming her from behind with an aggressive, dominant posture. Every powerful thrust sent the hot spring water violently churning, echoing with a heavy, rhythmic thud. That sound, mixed with Tifa's uncontrollable, broken, crying whimpers, composed the most primal and blush-inducing symphony in the world.

Hyacine's pupils contracted sharply, her breath completely stopping in that instant. The scene before her was infinitely more direct, more shocking, and more... overwhelmingly impactful than anything she had ever conjured in her imagination based on the sounds alone.

She watched Tifa's body sway uncontrollably, unable to bear the force; she saw the stubbornness of Tifa biting her lower lip to keep the sounds from escaping; and she saw the deep, indescribable pain woven with an intoxicating, drowning ecstasy within Tifa's closed, tear-streaked eyes—an expression Hyacine had never witnessed before.

Unnoticed, the pajamas slipped from her grasp, landing in a soft heap on the floor. Immediately after, all the strength was drained from her body. Hyacine's legs gave out, and she slumped uncontrollably onto the cold floor near the door in a W-sitting posture, her skirt splaying out like a wilting flower.

She instinctively clamped both hands over her mouth, her fingernails nearly digging into her flesh to stop the scream from tearing out of her throat. However, her body's physical reaction betrayed her reason. The scalding steam leaking from the gap, heavily laced with the unmistakable scent of lust, wrapped around her suffocatingly tight. An unfamiliar, burning heat flared up from the deepest core of her body, rapidly spreading out to her limbs.

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