𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐬

𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕?

Yewkin

What the fuck am I doing?

Watching this pig named Peppa with her on my birthday, her head on my lap while she falls asleep. Gorgeous.

I stroke her soft hair; I can't wrap my head around the fact I have to make her life a living hell. For what? Her shitty parents really brought a life to them. I move her head off my lap, picking her up and taking her to her room, a feather to me.

I lay her down, wanting to finally fucking relax, but my phone goes off. I groan as I look at the name on screen. Greenwin, "What?" "Oh, what am I in the way of you getting pussy?" he laughs in that fucking mocking voice.

"Ah-hah, I hope you're not getting too close to that Evola girl; what's her name anyway? Kyra? Oh the memories—if she knew who you were, she wouldn't spare you a glance."

"Get to the point." I sneer, "Oh, right, of course, now for my plans, I need them here by...this Saturday." "No." "Oh? I knew you were getting attached; anyway, Yewkin, I don't have time for nonsense here by Saturday, and that's it."

He hangs up, fucker. I run my hand through my hair, then grab my keys and go out to the club.

I need pussy right now.

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A stripper finds her way onto my lap while I sip my whiskey. "Should we go somewhere more private?" I push her off me and go to my office, expecting her to follow. I sit back in my chair as she walks in.

"Go on." I watch her with a bored expression while she unbuckles my belt. Her expression widens as she sees my dick. I grab her hair, forcing her mouth down my length. Taking too fucking long.

She gags over and over again before I spill out and I take my dick out of her mouth. "Wow," she sputters. "Shut up and leave." She stares at me clueless, always. "Did I fucking stutter? Get up and leave."

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"Oh, hello, Japanese boy... where are you coming from?" This annoying blonde asks as I come into their apartment. I push past her going to the kitchen.

"You have apples for breakfast?" Kyra lifts her head, staring up at me with those golden eyes. "Only red ones." She answers and goes back to cooking.

"Anyway, come here." I raise an eyebrow at her request while she at least tries to pull me with her "Your food." "It's done. Now come on, let's go."

She pulls me into her room and starts measuring me everywhere. "Are you going to measure my dick as well アプリコット?" Her cheeks go red while she continues, "No, never."

"And why is that?" "Yewkin, I—you're a stranger, and I'm a stranger to you, not to mention you're 10 years older too. If anything, you should've left on the first day, but you didn't make everything worse."

"Oh, but I'm not a stranger." She looks up at me with a skeptical look.

I know everything about you, Kyra Rose,
More than you.

"I'm done. You can go." "And if I don't want to アプリコット?" "Yewkin, go." I sit down on her bed undoing my tie and taking off my suit jacket. "No."

I close my eyes, listening to her quiet humming being disturbed by the door being slammed open. "So you and Mr. Stranger are together, Kyra; I hope you know what you're getting yourself into." "Zyra, shut up, what do you want?" "I need you to stitch my book together."

I groan as my phone rings; I know exactly who it is. "What, Greenwin?" "2 days, Yewkin, 2 days left." "Who're you talking to?" Kyra looks up and asks me, "Oh? You're with that Evola girl; how delightful. I don't blame you though." He laughs.

"The things I would do to her and her body if I had her, luckily I will, thanks to you, Yewkin. I'm surprised you haven't taken her pussy yet; how tight and young it would be."

I clench my jaw; next time I'll fucking send him to the hospital. "Is this all you call me for? To tell me how much of a fucking inhumane person you are?" "Aw, someone getting attached to a little girl? How funny."

I hang up, looking at Kyra. "You must really not like him." "Don't fucking talk." My words come out harsher than I intended them to be.

Still, it worked, and she quietly went back to stitching her sister's book. The tension in the room thickens. Heavy, almost suffocating. Every now and then she glances at me but doesn't dare say a word. Which is good. I don't have the patience to explain myself, nor do I want to.

I lean back on her bed, watching her sitting cross-legged on the floor as she meticulously stitches the book together, her hands moving with a kind of grace I almost envy. I hate how she can do that. How she can exist so quietly, without the chaos that plagues every moment of my life. It's like she's from another world entirely, untouched by the filth that's become my reality.

I don't know why I'm still here. Maybe it's because she's too innocent to realize the kind of danger I bring into her life. Maybe it's because part of me is drawn to that innocence. I want to corrupt it. I want to keep it pure. I don't even know anymore.

She finishes her stitching and stands up, looking at me with something close to concern. I can feel it, and it pisses me off. "You should really rest, Yewkin," she says softly, almost like she cares.

It's almost like I don't have to ruin everything.

I stand up abruptly, towering over her, and for a second, I see a flicker of fear in her eyes.
Good
Maybe that'll keep her from getting any closer.

"I don't need you telling me what I should or shouldn't do," I snap, the anger in my voice barely contained. She flinches but holds her ground, her gaze steady, though I can see her hands trembling slightly.

I don't know why I'm taking out my anger on her.

"You can stay if you want, but just... don't make things worse for yourself, okay?" She says it softly, almost pleading. I can't stand it. I can't stand her kindness, her naivety, her thinking she can fix anything in my fucked-up world.

I grab my jacket and head toward the door. "I don't need your pity," I spit, and without waiting for her to respond, I'm gone. Out of the apartment, out of her sight, back to where I belong. In the darkness.

As I walk down the street, the city's chaos consumes me again. The noise, the lights, the filth. It's home, but it's also my prison. My mind races back to Greenwin, that smug son of a bitch. He's right, of course. If Kyra knew what I was, she wouldn't even look at me. She'd run far, far away.

And she should.
Before I drag her down with me.

I light a cigarette and take a long drag, feeling the burn in my lungs. I don't know how long I can keep doing this. Greenwin's plans, this constant balancing act between survival and destruction, and now Kyra, her presence gnawing at the edges of my conscience.

I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. All I know is that I can't keep this up much longer.

I need to know what it'll be for...

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A special chapter has arrived debuting Yewkins book 'For What...?'
Next time you see us, it'll be there.