[BL] I Accidentally Summoned A Demon Husband Now He Won't Leave-Chapter 33: A Smart Plan
Back in his dorm room, Elliot flipped through his class cultivation book absentmindedly, his fingers brushing over the worn pages as his mind wandered. He tried to focus on the intricate spells and incantations scrawled across the pages, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the morning’s events. Honestly, he was grateful there were no classes today. Even if there were, he doubted he could muster the motivation to attend.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips, and he let the book fall flat on his lap. The memory of Charles’s dorm room replayed vividly in his mind, a stark contrast to the cramped, dim space he now sat in. His gaze traveled around his own room, taking in the chipped walls, creaky bed, and tiny window that barely let in any sunlight. It was like comparing an ant to a dragon. No, even that comparison was too kind. His dorm room was barely livable, more like a neglected storage closet.
Elliot frowned. Until today, he hadn’t given much thought to how his room compared to others. He’d never been inside anyone else’s dorm before—not that anyone had ever invited him in, anyway. But now that he had seen Charles’s spacious, well-furnished room with its grand canopy bed, ornate desk, and plush carpet, he couldn’t unsee the glaring unfairness. It was clear the academy was treating him differently. Worse.
His hands clenched into fists. No one deserved to live in conditions like this—not even him. Did they think they could bully him into silence just because he was at the bottom of the social ladder? Just because he didn’t come from a prestigious family? Well, they were wrong. If he didn’t stand up for himself, they would continue treating him like garbage, and that was something he could no longer accept.
Setting his book aside, Elliot tapped his chin thoughtfully. But what could he do? The academy was strict, and complaining would likely earn him more trouble. They’d probably just laugh at him again like they always did and tell him to be grateful for even having a room. Frustration bubbled up inside him, tightening his chest.
Then, a memory flashed in his mind—his encounter with the dorm inspectors earlier that day. They had come marching in, ready to dole out punishment, but the moment they realized he was Azrael’s husband, they froze in fear. They had been too terrified to even look him in the eye, much less punish him.
A light bulb flicked on in Elliot’s head, his eyes widening with realization. Azrael. They were all scared of him. And right now, even if he dreaded admitting it, Azrael was his husband. That meant he could use Azrael’s terrifying reputation to his advantage.
His heart raced with excitement as the idea took shape. If they were afraid of Azrael, then maybe he could use that fear to get himself a better room. After all, as Azrael’s spouse, didn’t he deserve a little more respect? It was a tempting thought. But then another, more sobering thought followed. If he failed to annul this marriage within the one-week deadline given by the King—a deadline that was fast approaching—then Azrael would be his husband for good. Was he really willing to risk that?
Elliot bit his lip, his mind whirling. Annulment or not, he couldn’t keep living in this miserable room. And if Azrael’s influence could help him, then maybe he needed to rethink his approach. Besides, it was better to make the most of the situation while it lasted.
But how could he pull it off? He couldn’t just storm into the office and demand a better room by waving Azrael’s name around. No one would take him seriously. No, the only way this would work was if Azrael himself requested it. But that meant getting Azrael to help him voluntarily. And considering how many times he’d pissed off the Demon King already, he wasn’t sure Azrael would be willing.
A defeated sigh left his lips as he rubbed his temples. "C’mon, Elliot, think... How can you convince that overgrown demon to help you out?"
He thought and thought, running through different ideas. Asking directly was out of the question. Azrael would just smirk and tease him, maybe even say something embarrassing to watch him squirm. Offering something in return was also impossible—what could he possibly give a Demon King who had everything?
Then, an idea slowly formed in his mind, one that made his heart race with both dread and hope. What if he sweet-talked Azrael? Coaxed him, flattered him... maybe even begged a little? The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and his face grew hot, his cheeks flushing pink.
Coaxing his husband. His husband. The very word made him gulp, his embarrassment intensifying. Azrael was his husband, at least for now. But thinking about sweet-talking a man—no, not just any man, but the Demon King himself—felt so... humiliating. Yet, what choice did he have? If it worked, then maybe he could finally escape this horrible room.
A wave of determination surged through him. He was going to do this. He would swallow his pride and try to convince Azrael to help him. But just as his resolve hardened, a painful realization struck him like a cold slap to the face. He had no way of contacting Azrael.
Elliot’s shoulders slumped, his confidence deflating like a punctured balloon. How was he supposed to coax Azrael when he didn’t even know how to reach him? Did demons have mailboxes? Could he just shout his name and hope he showed up?
It was so unfair. Just when he thought he had come up with a clever plan—something that didn’t happen often—this obstacle had to get in his way. A defeated sigh escaped his lips as he fell back onto his creaky bed, his arm thrown dramatically over his face. What now?
But as his eyes wandered around the room in despair, something caught his attention. His gaze settled on an object opposite him, something he had almost forgotten about. His eyes widened, a hint of hope lighting up his face as a small smile played at his lips.
