As he reached the house, Dorian paused, mentally checking his priorities. He needed to make sense of the overwhelming magical side of the world and separate it from his reality.
He had to stay grounded. He still had goals, a future, and a life to live. Just because he'd gained power didn't mean he had to abuse it. Still, he intended to enjoy it—thoroughly—for at least a few years' worth. The primal hunger for the new Lust Energy was just as potent as it had been that morning, and his upcoming date with Emma might finally satisfy it.
Unlocking the door, he saw the lights were on, casting a warm glow through the entryway—the kind of cozy ambiance his grandfather probably intended.
But this caused Dorian to make a mental note: he'd need to modernize a lot.
First on the list was replacing the old bulbs with LEDs. He had to start thinking about money and how to stretch every dollar.
Since it was Thursday night, tomorrow and possibly Saturday were perfect for setting up a morning garage sale. Hopefully, Aunt Becca would help. She wasn't obligated to, but her mere presence could attract customers; she always had that kind of radiant effect on people.
A better idea struck him: renting out two of the house's four rooms could bring in a steady income. With university starting soon, there would be plenty of students desperate for housing, whether they missed out on dorms or were seeking privacy.
The plan, however, had to wait. First, he needed to settle into his own space. The master bedroom, with its generous size and prime location, felt like the obvious choice. Aunt Becca had already claimed her old childhood room, which settled that. The third room, though, would need a thorough cleaning—stripped to the bare essentials while still feeling inviting for a potential tenant. He'd only glanced inside it briefly, but it seemed manageable.
The fourth guest room, located on the ground floor, remained a mystery. He'd need to inspect it closely.
Then there were the two and a half bathrooms. Each would need to be checked to ensure they were functional.
The laundry room was another priority if he was taking in tenants; a working washer and dryer could add value to the rent. It might even justify charging a bit more.
"What a mess," Dorian muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "So much to do, and I haven't even unpacked my own stuff. Half of it's still back home…"
Stepping into the foyer, he scanned the dimly lit space, expecting to see Aunt Becca somewhere nearby. The house was oddly quiet.
"Aunt Becca, I'm back! Are you around?" he called out.
Her voice floated from the living room. "In here, Dory! I'm trying to get this ancient TV to work. My phone's charging, and I'm bored out of my mind."
Dorian stepped into the room and froze.
Becca was bent over, fiddling with the dials on an old, boxy television set, her figure accentuated by the tight clothes she'd thrown on. The sight caught him off guard, stirring that unfamiliar hunger deep within him. He clenched his jaw, forcing his gaze to the side. Keep it together, Dorian.
He knew Becca wasn't teasing him on purpose, dressed in tight jeans and a slightly loose black shirt that still hinted at her curves.
"Mind if I take a look? Maybe the TV just needs a few taps," he offered, stepping closer.
He mentally added a new television to his growing list of necessities. This old relic could wait; he didn't need it himself, but if tenants moved in, a working TV might be expected.
"Sure, I'm ready to give up," Becca said with a tired laugh. "Think you can fix it, Dory?"
Dorian fiddled with the ancient dials, marveling at how outdated the set was—no proper buttons, just clunky knobs. Another antique, he thought, one that might catch someone's eye at the garage sale.
"Yeah… uh, no luck," he said, shaking his head. "This thing probably needs a different signal. Maybe the antenna outside has to be adjusted. It's way too old."
Becca sighed dramatically and flopped onto the couch, looking utterly defeated. "Well, I'll just sit here and wait then…" she said, covering her mouth while yawning. "There are no extension cords, and I don't feel like standing near the wall waiting for my phone to charge."
Her eyes flicked to Dorian, scanning him briefly. "You didn't change much," she remarked, tilting her head. "Are you sure the salon didn't rip you off? I mean, it looks neat, but three hours for that trim?"
Dorian chuckled, hoping his nervousness didn't give him away as he felt awkward. "It wasn't just that… I also wandered around town a bit. It's a nice, friendly store owner, too. As for the garbage bags, sorry I took so long. They're out in the hall, ready for tomorrow's deep cleaning."
"Don't remind me," Becca groaned. "It's gonna be rough. At least I tackled most of the downstairs already."
"Thanks," Dorian said, glancing around. "The hall looks great, and this room's practically spotless."
His gaze settled on Becca as she stretched, her shirt shifting slightly. She met his eyes for a moment, then quickly looked away.
"Well, I'm heading for another shower," Becca said, standing with a stretch.
"Sounds good, as for me, I need to sort out my room, or I won't have a place to sleep tonight," Dorian added, forcing a smile.
"Yeah, I saw that master bedroom. No way I'd tackle cleaning it in one go. Good luck, I'm heading up to fix my place before bed, too. Night, and if anything comes up, don't hesitate to wake me."
Becca gave a small wave, her tired smile lingering as she turned toward the stairs.
Dorian headed up, his steps quick, desperate to escape the sight of her tantalizing figure. Damn it, what's wrong with me? He clenched his fists, his sharpened nails biting into his palms. I never used to look at women like this…
A familiar voice slithered into his mind, smooth and teasing.
"True, I did tweak your perspective a bit," Yamir teased. "You need to eat, remember? That energy's what keeps you going now. Your body's craving it, so you'd better get used to it."