Tease, Tears, and the Torturous Massage
“I hate seeing you struggle, hubby. Just stay healthy by my side.”
“I'm tired. Good night.”
I closed my eyes. A stifled gasp came from behind me.
“...Ah.”
Silence. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.
She's gotta be panicking right now. Elma. Tough talk on the outside, but soft as tofu inside. Her tiny head was probably a battlefield at the moment.
What do I do? Hubby's mad at me?
Did I hurt his feelings?
Was I too harsh?
Saying he's worse than the golems... that was kinda mean, huh?
I could picture it without looking. I barely swallowed a laugh that was trying to bubble up.
==========================
Rustle. A presence stirred.
The sound of her climbing down from the sofa. Sneaky footsteps, like a thieving cat, approached my back and stopped.
“...H-Hubby?”
A voice creeping in like a frightened mouse. Where was the queen who yelled at me earlier? Now it was just a cowering hamster.
I didn't answer. I pretended to sleep, letting out steady breaths.
Poke. Something jabbed my back. A tiny finger.
Poke poke.
“Are you... asleep?”
“......”
“For real? Already?”
Elma gently shook my shoulder.
“Heyyy.... Wake up....”
“......”
“Hubby....”
Her voice started to get watery.
“Are you mad...?”
I rolled over without a word, pretending to toss in my sleep.
Elma fidgeted anxiously around me, crouching by my head then scurrying back behind me.
“Sorry....”
An apology finally slipped out, her voice utterly deflated.
“I was too harsh with my words....”
“......”
“You're not thick-headed, hubby. I just explained it weird.”
Even self-criticism now.
“You're smart. Super smart. Great at mana control, cooking too....”
Praise barrage.
“Handsome face... and down there... it's big....”
Wait, that got weird. Anyway, she was desperate.
“Wake up.... Please? Let's do it again. I'll explain it slowly and properly this time. Okay?”
Elma tugged at my clothes. Grunt grunt. But I didn't budge an inch.
Her breathing grew rougher. Anxiety pierced the ceiling.
“Ah, okay! Fine!”
Elma took a resolute breath.
“I'll give you a hint!”
“......”
“Exam question! Can't leak it, but super important stuff! I can hint at it!”
She was even selling out her professor ethics.
“Question 3 has mana reflux. Answer's 3.17! Wait, is that spilling the answer? Anyway!”
Rambling nonsense.
“Next team project, I'll give you tons of points! A+! No, special S-grade for my hubby!”
Even grade tampering now. Love had blinded her into corruption. No S-grades existed, but it showed her panic.
“So don't just lie there like that....”
A sniffle. Her nose was all stuffy.
“I'm scared....”
“......”
“What if you hate me.... I can't live without you....”
Now she was outright sobbing. Okay, time to feel a little guilty. Had I overdone the prank? Our low self-esteem professor might dig a hole and hide.
Time to stop.
Stretch. I pretended to wake up, slowly sitting up.
“Mm....”
I squinted my eyes.
“......!”
Elma was there. Face a mess of tears and snot. Glasses slipped down. Still clutching my shirt like a lifeline. She looked lost, hiccuping.
“Oh? You're up....”
Elma hurriedly wiped her tears with her sleeve. Rub rub.
“Hubby.... Awake?”
“Yeah, you were so noisy I woke up. Someone kept yapping next to me.”
“Ah....”
Elma hung her head. Fidgeted with her fingers.
“Sorry... for waking you....”
“But what was all that about? Giving A+'s and stuff.”
“Th-that was....”
Her face flushed beet red. Too embarrassed to repeat the grade-bribing out loud.
I chuckled and sat up fully, stretching my arms.
“Come here.”
“......Huh?”
“I want a hug. Comfort your dumb student.”
Elma's eyes went wide. She blanked out for a second.
“Ughhh....!”
She launched into my arms.
“Idiot! Dummy! Goblin!”
She buried her face and pounded my chest.
“You scared me! I thought you were really mad!”
“Sorry. You were too cute.”
“This is cute?! I was serious!”
“Yeah. Super cute.”
I patted her back. Small, warm body. Shoulders shaking with each sob.
“It's 'cause... I suck at explaining....”
Elma mumbled into my chest.
“I'm a genius... so I don't get how dummies think....”
“Yeah yeah, genius professor.”
“But you're not a dummy. I'll teach you, you can do it all.”
“Got it. I'll study again.”
“No.”
Elma shook her head, hugging me tighter.
“No studying.”
“Huh?”
“Forget it. Screw it.”
She looked up, tossing her glasses aside. Clunk.
“Let's just stay like this.”
“What about the exam? My brain mods?”
“Dunno. F? Who cares. I'll feed you.”
What a pivot.
“I hate seeing you struggle. Just stay healthy by my side.”
“Why so generous all of a sudden?”
“Earlier was too scary....”
Elma rubbed her cheek against mine.
“Don't ever do that again. Felt like you were leaving me.”
“Won't ditch you. Who'd leave a pretty girl like this?”
“Hmph. Good talker.”
Her lips twitched up. Mood lifted.
We stayed hugged like that for a while. Rolling on the living room floor. Sharing body heat instead of study time.
“Hubby.”
“Yeah.”
“That question 3 earlier.”
“Yeah.”
“Real answer's 3.17.”
Elma whispered softly.
“......”
This professor was serious. I pretended not to hear, hugging her back tighter.
“Love you, Elma.”
“......Tch. Me too.”
Exam? Whatever. It'll work out.
===================================
Of course, I didn't skip studying. Late nights every day. But first, something essential.
“......Ugh.”
Living room. On the wolf rug. A blanket lump wriggled.
“Hubby... not coming...?”
“One sec. Almost done.”
Tiny head poking out. Voice thick with sleepiness.
It was 9:30 PM. Early for bed, but Elma always crashed early. So childish in these ways.
“Just now... yawn... you thought something weird, right?”
“Nope.”
Her senses were sharp.
Ding-. Microwave opened. Warm milk. Spoon of honey. Stirred and brought over.
“Here, drink up.”
“Fuu....”
Elma sat up groggily. Eyes barely open, mouth agape. Like a baby bird.
I held the mug to her lips. She gripped it with both tiny hands and sipped.
“Tasty....”
“Brush your teeth after.”
“Too lazy... wanna sleep....”
“No. Cavities.”
I dragged her to the bathroom, made her brush. Tucked her back in bed, patted her.
“Sleepy bye.”
“......Mm.”
Elma burrowed into my chest. One short leg slung over my waist.
“Hubby... don't go anywhere....”
“Not going. Right here.”
I stroked her hair, patted her back. Soon, steady snores.
Out cold now.
I gently slipped my arm free. Twitch.
“Ung....”
Elma's brow furrowed. I quickly shoved the bear doll in my spot. She hugged it and drifted off again.
Nightly routine. Mission accomplished today too.
Smack. Light kiss on her forehead.
“Good night, Elma.”
Tippy-toe out the door. Time to study.
================================
Changed venues. Elma's old bedroom, now storage and my study.
Set up the low table. Sat on the floor, opened textbooks.
Scratch scratch. In the quiet, only pen on paper.
One hour. Two. Past 1 AM.
“Aigoo....”
Stretched. Old-man groan. Creak. Joints screamed.
Shoulders rock-hard. Neck stiff. Studying this late was rough.
Then.
Creeeak-. Door opened.
Bedhead Elma stood there.
“......Hubby?”
Rubbing eyes, searching for me.
“Elma? You up?”
“You weren't... there....”
She wobbled over. Sleep-drunk zigzag steps.
“Studying...?”
“Yeah. Compulsory exam in two days.”
“......”
Elma checked the clock. Then my neck-rubbing hands.
Almond eyes wavered. Guilt.
“My fault....”
“Huh?”
“Tucking me in... stole your study time....”
Lips pouted. About to cry. Droopy hamster. Pitiful and cute.
“Nah. Cleared my head, felt good.”
“Liar. Shoulders... look sore.”
Elma circled behind. Tiny hands pressed my traps.
“Rock hard... like stones....”
“It's fine. Stretch and it'll loosen.”
“Mm....”
Roll. Eyes darted. Ah, this lady's scheming again.
“I'll do it!”
Suddenly her eyes sparkled. Sleep gone.
“Huh? Do what?”
“Massage!”
She rolled up sleeves. Serious face.
“Wife's gotta ease hubby's fatigue.”
“Nah, it's okay. Not at this hour.”
“No! I got a license, trust me!”
Random bomb. License?
“License?”
“Yup!”
“Where from?”
“Online!”
Elma puffed her chest.
“Nigerian Royal Massage Association or something. Watch 30-min video, pay fee, instant cert!”
“......”
...Scam vibes? Like Nigerian prince emails.
“Elma, that looks totally like...”
“What? Don't trust me?”
Eyes narrowed.
“Doubting my learning skills?”
“No, it's just...”
“Then trust and follow! I'll fix your fatigue for sure!”
Elma yanked my clothes. This confidence. Tell her it's a scam, and her pride scratches. Fallout: tears at best. Worst, she launches drones, hijacks Nigerian planes, threatens the prez—“Send that association head now!” Hague-bound. Me too.
Better tank it physically.
“Okay. Go easy.”
“Leave it to me!”
I let her lead. Flopped face-down on the rug. Please, no disasters.
===============================
“Listen up! Core muscles first—we gotta wreck 'em.”
Elma's voice from behind. Overflowing resolve. But “wreck”? Bad vibes.
“Video said massage basics: weight-loaded pressure!”
Rustle. Sleep socks off.
“Climbing on?”
“You step on me?”
“That's how it's done! Saw it in the video!”
That scam vid? Super uneasy. But before I could stop her...
Squish.
“GYAAH?!”
Scream burst out. Beside spine. Erector spinae. Heavy impact slammed down.
“Hurts?”
“W-wait! My spine! Vertebrae!!”
Elma fully mounted my back. Ignored my pleas.
Issue: her specs. 90cm tall. But dwarf. Muscle mass, bone density leagues above human. Compressed weight focused on tiny soles.
Not massage... awl stabbing.
“Elma! It hurts!”
“No whining! That's your muscles loosening!!”
Elma wobbled on my back. Stomped to balance.
Thud! Thump thump! Thud!
“GYAA! AGH!”
I let out undignified shrieks.