Another night listening to the creaking floorboards and the muffled sounds of the dragonmaids' 'work' filtering through the walls. Charlotte mentioned she needs to polish the silverware again, but I can hear Seraphina panting and begging for something far less domestic from her. It’s hard to focus on my reading when the air smells like sex and floor wax. Sometimes I wonder if they’d let me join, or if I’m just here to watch the house breathe and shake while they fuck each other senseless. The walls are thin, and my cock is hard just thinking about walking in on them. Maybe tonight I stop pretending I’m not listening.