My anger flares, but I remain silent, lost in the depths of his mesmerizing eyes. "You have a knack for getting on my nerves," he says, chuckling softly.
"And you have a knack for making everything infinitely more complicated," I retort, though my v...
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The mountains of sweaty bodies, pile on top of each other. My patience was visibly running thin. I needed to get to the VIP area before the races began. But Yang had outdone himself with the invitations, effectively stranding me in the middle of a mob.
Bodies ram into my sides as I squeeze through the never-ending crowd. Their sweat and heat radiated off them, sending my irritation further over the edge. The only thing keeping me sane was Lee's comforting hand resting on my shoulder as he guided me through the drunken mob of people.
After what felt like an eternity, Lee and I entered the VIP lounge, the other racers already mingling and relaxing before the race. Lee leads me to our usual seating area, sitting at the table and ordering a drink for himself as a waitress walks by. "You ready for the race?" His question echoed in my head. No, I was never ready, not when it came to Han.
"Of course," I grumble, the thought of Han bringing my voice down to a deadly decibel. Lee raises a brow, as if to question me but doesn't say anything. He knows better than to push my buttons, especially before a race. I change the subject, knowing he would have a million assumptions swirling around in his head by now. "You look nice. Kim?"
A grin smears over Lee's features. He nods once, subtly. "I bet he's looking for me right now, poor guy can't get enough." The way he speaks about him, makes Lee seem like a terrible guy. To be honest he is, he treats his lovers like filth. I've seen the real Lee though, he's not an ass, not to me, and that's all I needed. He was loyal and a good friend, I've had him by my side since we were kids.
He wipped out his phone, clearly aiming to text him. I look at my own phone, scrolling through my socials, It was his business, not mine. Business I didn't quite agree with, but it wasn't for me to judge. I didn't want to get involved in his shenanigans.
Just as a comfortable silence stills between us, the door to the VIP lounge swung open, I subconsciously looked up from my phone. However I immediately regretted it. Han. Why the fuck was Han here? He doesn't use the lounge, ever.
A wave of irritation washed over me. I had thought I'd get to spend one more peaceful hour without his snobby ass being in my line of view. He looked plain. He always did. He wore a black t-shirt matched with fitted black leather pants and boots, the outfit matched his pitch-black hair. Somehow even with his boring fashion sense, women clung to him. It drove me insane.
I was proud of my outfit, it contrasted Han's bland look. I wore a white t-shirt paired with a leather jacket decorated with a plethora of chains, my baggy, washed-out jeans pulled the look together with a bit of color. Even the way Han dressed pissed me off, did he really not have the time to put some effort into his outfit for once? That's not to say his outfit didn't look good on him, it did, but he could do so much better.
Han's eyes immediately meet mine, his dead expression sends shivers down my spine. He was with his minion, Bahng. He led Han to a table, one that happened to be in my direct view. Perfect. I looked back down at my phone, the words and pictures blurred. A whiff of lavender and Juniper mixed with nutmeg and musk filled my nostrils. Han. Smelling like a fucking angel, like always. It pissed me off. "Hwang." He leaned his hands onto the table, staring me down. I look up to meet his blank stare. Mine, filled with annoyance.
