KamiKowa: That Time I Got Transmigrated With A Broken Goddess-Chapter 53: [] Different

Their laughter gradually subsided, leaving them breathless on the living room floor. Xavier found himself trapped beneath Calypso, her silver hair falling around them like a curtain. The weight of her body pressed against his chest, her knees on either side of his hips. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, hearts racing from their playful struggle.

"What are you looking at?" Calypso asked, her voice softer than he’d ever heard it.

"You," he said simply. His hand moved of its own accord, fingers tracing the curve of her cheek. "I’ve seen thousands of beautiful women. But you’re..."

He paused, searching for words. Something about her defied his usual categorization. Beautiful didn’t cover it. Alluring felt inadequate.

Calypso leaned into his touch. "I’m what?"

"Different," he finished lamely. "I don’t know how to explain it."

Her lips quirked upward. "Two thousand years and no one’s ever called me just ’different’ before."

"What do they usually call you?" His thumb brushed against her lower lip.

"Divine. Magnificent. All-powerful."

Xavier’s mouth curved into a half-smile. "But never ’the woman who squeals like a piglet when tickled’?"

Calypso’s eyes narrowed. "I will end you."

"No, you won’t."

She opened her mouth to argue but stopped when Xavier’s hand slid to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair.

"Xavier," she whispered, her breath warm against his face.

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he drew her down to him, closing the distance between their lips.

The kiss started gentle—a question more than a demand. Calypso stiffened momentarily, then melted against him with a soft sound that resonated somewhere deep in his chest. Her lips were impossibly soft, tasting faintly of the raspberry pastry she’d been eating.

Xavier had kissed countless women in his previous life. He’d honed the skill like any other weapon in his arsenal—calculating pressure, reading responses, giving pleasure to manipulate. This was nothing like those kisses. His mind went blank, strategies forgotten as Calypso’s body pressed against his.

Her hands framed his face while his gripped her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened, her tongue meeting his in a dance that sent heat coursing through his body. Xavier rolled them over in one fluid movement, pinning Calypso beneath him without breaking the kiss.

"Mmph~!" She made a small noise of surprise that quickly transformed into approval. Her hands slid under his shirt, nails grazing lightly against his back. The sensation sent electricity down his spine.

"You taste like sugar," he murmured against her mouth.

"Divine perk," she breathed, pulling him back to her lips.

Xavier lost track of time as they lay tangled together on the living room floor. His hand slipped beneath her shirt, fingers tracing the curve of her waist, the smooth skin of her stomach. Calypso arched into his touch, her breathing ragged as his mouth moved to her neck.

"Xavier," she gasped as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot below her ear.

The sound of his name on her lips hit him with an intensity he wasn’t prepared for. Something raw and urgent took over as he claimed her mouth again, harder this time, need overriding caution.

Calypso matched his intensity, her legs wrapping around his waist, drawing him closer. Her fingers tangled in his white hair, tugging just enough to send sparks of pleasure-pain through his scalp.

The television buzzed with forgotten noise in the background. The homework lay scattered around them. None of it mattered in the heat of her skin against his, the taste of her mouth, the small sounds she made when his hands discovered particularly sensitive spots.

Xavier pulled back just enough to look at her face. Calypso’s cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen from their kisses, her pink eyes dark with desire. He’d seen that look countless times before, but never quite like this—never with this strange ache in his chest that made it hard to breathe.

Xavier closed his eyes, trying to regain control of his racing heart. "We should."

"I know."

Xavier lowered his head, his forehead resting against hers. Their breath mingled in the small space between them. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest, the heat of her body beneath his. One move and they’d be kissing again. One move and there would be no turning back.

Calypso’s hand pressed gently against his chest. "Wait."

He froze, eyes opening to find conflict written across her face.

"I can’t do this," she said, her voice barely audible.

Xavier didn’t move, giving her space to speak while trying to ignore the hammering of his heart.

"Gods and mortals," she continued, swallowing hard. "It always ends in tragedy. Always. Centuries of processing souls has taught me that much."

"We’re already bound together," he pointed out. "How much worse could it get?"

Her laugh held no humor. "So much worse, Xavier. You have no idea."

Reluctantly, he rolled off her, sitting up on the floor beside her. Calypso remained where she was for a moment, staring at the ceiling, her silver hair spread around her head like a halo.

"Tell me," he said, the assassin in him seeking information, the man in him needing to understand what had just happened between them.

Calypso sat up, straightening her rumpled clothes. Her hands shook slightly. "Mortals who love gods end up cursed, transformed, or dead. Gods who love mortals end up stripped of power, exiled, or forced to watch their lovers wither and die." She looked at him, pain evident in her eyes. "There’s no happy ending for us, Xavier. No love at the end. There never has been for anyone like us."

"Who said anything about love?"

She flinched. "Right. Of course." fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

Xavier ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "That’s not what I meant."

"It doesn’t matter." Calypso stood. "Whatever this is, it can’t happen. Not if we want to survive breaking the gates and our entanglement."

Xavier stayed seated, watching her. Her body language screamed conflict—arms wrapped around herself, eyes avoiding his, feet pointed toward the hallway like she wanted to run.

"You should know," he said quietly, "that I’ve never kissed someone only because I wanted to. Not once in my previous life. It was always part of a job."

Calypso looked at him then, her expression unreadable.

"It was different with you. Different enough that it scares me."

Her shoulders sagged slightly. "It scares me too."

Xavier stood, maintaining distance between them. "I’ll sleep on the couch tonight."

"You don’t have to do that."

"I think I do." He gathered his tablet and the scattered documents. "We both need space to think."

Calypso nodded, though her eyes betrayed her reluctance. "If you change your mind—"

"I won’t."

She took a step toward him, then stopped herself. "Xavier, I’m not rejecting you. I’m just—"

"Being practical," he finished for her. "I get it."

"Do you?"

He offered her a small, genuine smile. "I’m a practical guy. Self-preservation has gotten me this far."

Calypso hovered indecisively for a moment. "I should get some sleep."

"Probably."

Still, she lingered. "About that Soul Bond percentage... it might be higher after tonight."

Xavier’s eyebrows rose. "Because of...?"

"Emotional intensity matters more than duration." She looked away, a blush coloring her cheeks. "The system registers genuine connection, not just proximity."

"Good to know my terrible life choices are at least powering up my abilities."

The joke fell flat between them, laden with too much truth to be funny. Calypso took a deep breath, visibly gathering herself.

"Goodnight, Xavier."

"Goodnight, Calypso."

She turned and walked down the hallway to where the bathroom and bedroom is. Xavier stood motionless in the living room, listening to her movements on the other side of the wall—the bathroom sink running, the rustle of clothes being changed, the creak of the mattress as she climbed into bed.

He touched his lips, still feeling the ghost of her kiss. The apartment suddenly felt too small, too confining. Too full of her scent, her presence.

Xavier walked to the window, pushing it open to let in the night air. The city sprawled below, millions of lights against the darkness.

Xavier grabbed a blanket from the closet and arranged it on the couch. His tablet pinged with a notification—another message from Adrian with additional information about Dominic’s career. Work was good. Work was familiar. Work didn’t make his chest ache when he thought about it.

He settled onto the couch, opening the file, trying to force his mind back to the mission. But even as he read through statistical analyses and combat reports, his thoughts kept drifting to silver hair spread across the floor, pink eyes dark with desire, and the taste of divinity on his tongue.

Sleep, when it finally came, was filled with dreams of gates opening to nowhere and everywhere, and a goddess who waited just beyond his reach.

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