Criminal Love

55. Sketch

Dylan and Yue have been living together for two weeks. They have tried to find a rhythm, but many things have gotten in the way. First it was Yue's period that had her cramping for a couple days. After that, Whiskers got sick and kept throwing up everywhere, so the couple did nothing but clean, disinfect and deodorize the apartment for another couple days.

Last but not least, Agent Michaels arrived, and he seems to be carrying on a personal crusade to prevent the couple from ever leaving the office. This has been happening for a week. Michaels even had them working on the weekend, which means they couldn't go to the penthouse to unwind and spend some tranquil moments together.

Dylan and Yue agreed they would maintain the penthouse agreement because it's a relaxed environment where they can disconnect from the rest of the world and build up their connection as a couple. The idea of not having that anymore was terrifying for both, and it proved to be counterproductive because lately Dylan is suffering like a caged tiger.

In fact, today is Wednesday and the poor man feels like he's about to implode.

Since they have been working until 10 pm the past 5 days, Yue has been going out for a run at 6.30–because Dylan insisted on it–, which has left them no time to paint for almost a week.

Madness, pure madness.

Dylan has thought about sleeping in his own apartment, away from temptation, but Yue has made it pretty clear that she doesn't want him to leave. It's been unbearable to pretend that he doesn't need more than kisses and cuddles.

By the way, Dylan has not had the audacity to solicit any sketches or initiate them. That would have helped him connect with Yue and feel more at peace while they make time for a proper painting, but he refuses to be the one to bring up the possibility.

Yue comes back from running at 7.15 and showers fast. They are supposed to be in the office by 8.30, so they need to leave at 8 am tops or Michaels will give them a lecture on punctuality.

Dylan is in front of the mirror, trying to choose a shirt from the 3 options he has left–he only keeps the clothes for the week at Yue's because her closet is small–, but he seems to be drowning in a glass of water. He huffs and puffs, staring at the shirts that rest on the chair next to the mirror as if they had the solutions to his troubles.

Yue observes him for a minute, compassion and empathy for the man swelling in her chest, and then hugs him from behind. "Hey, everything okay?"

Dylan feels her warm and soft arms around his naked torso and shivers. "Fine," he spits. "I don't know what to wear and it's getting late."

Yue takes two steps towards the chair, picks a navy-blue shirt, and puts it on top of the others. "You look great in blue. Wear this one," she smiles sweetly.

"Thanks," Dylan mumbles back, trying to unglue his eyes from Yue's body that is covered only by a towel draped around her chest. She does this to torture me.

This is when Yue decides to take matters into her own hands. If they skip breakfast, they can have 10 minutes for a sketch. That's plenty for a young guy like Dylan, once she can get things going for him. And it doesn't take long after what Yue is about to do.

Since Dylan is still staring at her, Yue unwraps the towel and lets it fall to a pile on the floor by her feet. Dylan follows the cloth with his stunned eyes and his mouth parts a little.

What is she doing?

Yue grabs his hand and heads over to the bed, but before doing anything else, she pulls down his boxers and hands him an anti-baby because this is the most dangerous time of the month.