𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞 || 𝙆𝙮𝙤𝙟𝙪𝙧𝙤 𝙍𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙤𝙠𝙪

2. 𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨

Stay Tuned!

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"Kyojuro?" You breathed out  nervously, hoping that the man in front of you was not actually Kyojuro, even with the most obvious and distinct features that defined him as who he was apart from others.

The guy started at you for a second and burst out with a hearty laugh. He was definitely drunk.
"Ahaha, how do you know my name?"He slurred out, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly to a hug. "Hehe, how'd you know I was kyojuro..." He sleepily mumbled as he buried his face on your upper chest, hugging you tightly closer to him.

That's when you realized that he was too intoxicated and drunk to understand the situation. You sat there in his embrace, not knowing what to do, but as if naturally, your gaze softened at him and melted into his touch. You put your hands down into his hair, placing each finger inside to softly ruffle it. You lightly twirled his locks between your fingers as you observed the darker colored tips of his hair.

Rengoku Kyojuro, your high school sweetheart for 2 years. The two of you broke up after you decided that the relationship was toxic. He was a very nice guy but was never open to going out or spending time with you. Sometimes, you'd see him walking around with Mitsuri, his friend, on the streets at times when he told you he was busy. You'd never got clear evidence that he was cheating, though. He had also been very serious about his job and had always chosen his priority over you.

You respected him for always doing his best, but the more it went on, the more it felt more and more like you were the only one doing anything. Like a one-sided relationship. In the end, you outgrew him and left him, and the next year, he moved to Japan to his mother's side of the family, making any reconciliation impossible.

So seeing Rengoku now in your bar was the most absurd thing. 

"She was so pretty..." he mumbled on your chest, making vibrations in your body. "So beautiful.." He continued on but suddenly pulled himself up and stared at you with half open eyes.

Lust. It screamed. You just stared at him, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

"It's 50 per hour with me," you slowly whispered to him, realizing he would never notice that it was you at this state. In your mind, you knew you needed to get this over quickly for the money, but deep inside your heart, you wished that you could've stayed like that a little longer.

"To fuck?" He asked. You simply nodded your head, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Perfect." He breathed out, "then time started now," he called out, and you turned to him to protest, but his hand grabbed your chin: and quickly his lips crashed into yours. Your eyes opened wide in shock, as you slightly pushed on his chest with trembling hands.

You could never get used to it.

His breath smelled like whiskey and your grip on his dress shirt tightened. You let out a whimper when you felt his tongue entering your mouth. You didn't put up a fight, you've never have put up a fight whenever you were kissed. That was how you were taught. The kiss went on for what fet like minutes, and each second, you felt his arms around you tighten. As his tight embrace made you unable to move around on him, you suddenly remembered that he wrestled in high school and went to state twice.