xii.

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you

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"I just like cherry blossoms."

HER skin was his canvas. 

He wanted to paint it with colours. Red, like the wicked colour of roses that bloomed whenever he saw her. Crimson like the evening sky, lined across her skin with the ropes that caressed her body. He wanted her to feel him. To acknowledge his presence, to desire the palms of the one she longed for most.  

He wanted to paint her black like his thoughts. Impure and dark, etched into her white skin, gnawing away at all of the innocence she holds. He wanted to see the flames of desire on her face oozing in pink, like the cherry blossoms she admired most. He wanted her skin glazed with golden honey, an endless sweet aftertaste that kept him going in for more and more.

He wanted to ruin her in the most inhumane way possible. Shy patches of purple on the back of her neck. The red imprint of a palm on her curve ofher arse, the womanly scent off his fingers, the-

"Can't sleep?" 

Minghao looks up from the screen of his laptop. Mao stood by the door, two red mugs in hand. He definitely did not notice her presence, didn't even hear the creak of a door. Was that how engrossed he was in writing? The composition wasn't even that good to be absorbed in, or at least that was what he thought.

"Hello Miss Hideaki. How is your body?" Minghao takes off his glasses and smiles. Mao places the mug on the coaster on the table (Minghao doesn't like to put drinks directly on the table) and inches closer to the place where he sat.

"I'm good, thank you. A little sore from all that running, but better." She replies, massaging the back of her neck where it felt a little sore.

"Are you working on a new chapter? I'd love to read a preview." Mao says.

"I'd rather you wait for it to be completed and published, Miss Hideaki." Minghao replies with a sarcastic smile.

Mao rolls her eyes and plops herself on the couch next to his desk. "I've got a question. Can we drop the formalities? You talk to me like we're business associates."

"But we are."

"Well, yes, but I'll be working with you for God knows how long. I can't keep treating you like a bloody part timer."

Minghao brushes his upper lip, thinking. "I like it this way. Like we're having an affair at the workplace."

"Can you stop being dirty for once?"

"Who was the person who interrupted me when my mind is still in erotica mode? I'm afraid you'll have to deal with it, Miss Hideaki."

Mao heaves a sigh and takes a sip of her drink. It was still scorching hot. She'll never get used to eating hot things. "Well, whatever. I'm here to ask about the girl we took from the mansion. How is she?" 

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