Losing You Kylie JennerxOc Character

34

Malik leaned against the doorframe, watching Jordan as she stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her black Dior suit. The soft lighting in the room highlighted the sleek, tailored fit that emphasized her lean frame. Black suited her—literally and figuratively. It was powerful, understated yet bold, and somehow, it seemed to mirror the essence of who Jordan had become: fierce, untouchable, and dripping with confidence.

"You look good," Malik said, his eyes scanning the outfit with approval. The way the fabric hugged her shoulders and hung just right over her frame was something he couldn't help but admire. Jordan had always been more comfortable in her baggy clothes, but tonight, she was embracing a more refined style for the occasion.

Jordan shrugged, turning her head slightly to meet Malik's gaze in the reflection of the mirror. "It's alright. But let's not pretend this whole fashion thing is my scene," she said, smoothing down the front of the jacket. "If I wasn't chart-topping, I wouldn't be anywhere near this event."

Malik smirked. "And yet, here you are. About to make an entrance at fashion week. So, what gives? What's got you dragging yourself to another party?"

Jordan's eyes twinkled with mischief as she checked her reflection again, her lips curling into a smile that Malik knew too well—Jordan was up to something. "Let's just say the Lyon's got her eye on some prey tonight."

Malik chuckled, intrigued. "Oh? Now I *have* to know who's caught your attention, dear lovely Lyoness."

Jordan turned from the mirror, her gaze distant but her smile never faltering. "You don't need to know all the details, Malik. Just make sure Akiva's well taken care of while I'm out. She's gonna need her favorite uncle to spoil her tonight."

Malik waved off the concern. "Don't worry about Akiva. Uncle Malik has it covered. But seriously, who's the prey? You can't just drop a line like that and leave me hanging."

Jordan adjusted the cuff of her sleeve, admiring how the black fabric contrasted with her skin. Her fingers toyed with the cufflink for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "This suit does look good," she said, dodging Malik's question, but the smirk on her lips told him she wasn't going to answer directly.

"Jordan," Malik pressed, half-amused, half-frustrated. "Come on, who are you after?"

Jordan's grin widened as she walked past him, picking up her coat from the nearby chair. She casually tossed it over her shoulder, the image of effortless cool. "Just know I won't be back tonight," she said, her tone playful but loaded with suggestion.

Malik groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up. "You always get laid," he teased. "What's your secret? Is it the suit? The voice? Or is it just that intersex charm?"

Jordan shot him a cocky grin, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Not my fault I'm New York's favorite intersex bachelorette." She winked, clearly reveling in her allure. "I am a Lyon after all."

"Please," Malik scoffed, rolling his eyes as he leaned off the doorframe. "You Lyons have been loving yourselves since forever. You're even worse than Hakeem before he met Maya. It's like you all get off on the chase."

Jordan laughed, a low, sultry sound. "Maybe. But unlike Hakeem, I don't plan on settling down anytime soon." She gave herself one last look in the mirror, satisfied with what she saw. "Tonight, the Lyon hunts."

Malik shook his head, watching her head for the door. "Just don't get into too much trouble. You always come back with a story, and half of them make me feel like I need a stiff drink afterward."

Jordan gave him a knowing look, her hand on the doorknob. "That's what makes me so fun," she said with a wink before disappearing into the night.

Malik chuckled to himself as he watched her leave. Jordan was a force, always on the move, always a step ahead. The Lyoness on the prowl—and tonight, he couldn't wait to hear what kind of prey she'd catch.