a group of orphaned girls, down on their luck, infiltrate high society in order to live the high life. but the socialites they're trying to trick may very well find a place in their hearts.
a riize apply fic | closed
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Yuhwa was never in the habit of getting drunk, but it had been hard not to celebrate her unexpected win at the slot machines. As soon as she'd told the girls, they'd all erupted into more joy than she'd ever seen on them, and had decided to go out for the evening, just the seven of them, to bask in that newfound feeling. Although she'd been reasonable, Yuhwa had woken up a little drowsier than she was used to.
That was why, when the girls suggested going to a waterpark to keep the celebration going, Yuhwa had preferred not to go. The guys would be with them anyway, so she felt she didn't have to keep an eye on them as she usually did. Instead, she'd taken a stroll through the city, letting the cool breeze of late autumn sober her up. She'd gone back to the hotel in the early afternoon, carrying with her a paper bag. She hadn't planned to shop, but something had caught her eye, and perhaps her newly plush bank account had pushed her to follow her instinct.
When she reached the hallway to her hotel room, the last person she'd expected to see was Shotaro. He was at his door, about to unlock it, when the sound of her heels drew his attention to her. His eyes widened and his hands flew off his door, but she didn't miss the smile tugging at his lips. Clutching tighter onto her bag, she closed the distance between them.
"I thought you went to the waterpark with the others," she said sheepishly.
Shotaro chuckled as he rubbed his nape. "Nah, I didn't really feel like swimming."
She nodded in agreement, and said nothing. Shotaro, too, stayed silent for a moment, his eyes darting all over the place. They drifted to her bag, then back to her, before he directed his attention to his door again.
"Wanna hang out in my room, if you're not busy?"
"...Okay."
He opened the door, and Yuhwa followed him in, her throat tight. The room was a little bigger than hers, a little more luxurious. Draped in velvet and pinkish colors, it looked almost like a honeymoon suite. In front of the large bed stood a small loveseat, patterned cushions making it even more inviting. An empty bottle of champagne laid near a long since thawed ice bucket on the coffee table, beside a lone flute.
