What about her is so interesting that both an ordinary man and a millionaire is ready to get on their knees for her?
(The characters aren't mine, they rightfully belong to Yasutaka Tsutsui. Some OCs of mine may be included but you'll be informed at...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(F/t)- Favourite type ⒹⓊⓂ︎ⒷⓁⒾⓃⒺ
"Hmm looks like we really are dealing with some efficient burglars.." With the help of her slim thumb and index finger, (Y/n) carefully traced the hard dark brown wood of the old wardrobe. Her brows were furrowed as she analysed the case. "Naw no marks of fingerprints. None at all.." she continued to mumble to herself. Promptly, her arms dropped to her side and rested on her hip. Her (e/c) globes burned holes at wardrobe, as if it would help her reverse back the marks of the dude that ruined her weekend.
"..how did they even get the time to clean it?" With a sigh, she twisted the rusty metal knob and swung opened the wardrobe. A squeak of agony was earned from the action. The female kept her tightly glued to the knobs as she examined the inside just like she did with the outer part. Her jaw immediately clenched as her eyes fell on the inner portion.
"Damn bastar-" she cut herself off. Her eyes lit up like a light bulb and she felt the frustration in her mind melt away.
"Hmm what might that be?" She queried herself; a playful smirk tingling on her lips. "So he does makes mistakes...who am I kidding? Of course he does."
Shaking her head, she stuffed her hands in the pocket of her blazer. Two ivory medical gloves were brought out. She straightened up the gloves and inserted her fingers. With a pinch she made sure it was perfectly wrapped around her finger and moved her now gloved hands forward to the tiny amount of white powder resting on the far corner of the nearly empty wardrobe.
The female's face crunched to a disturbed one straight away. She intensely glared at the powder sticked to her covered index finger. As she was done, with a frown, she brushed off the powder of her index finger by the help of her thumb repeatedly brushing it away. When she was sure there was no powder left she slowly brought up her fingers closer to her nose. With squinted eyes and a frown that screamed revulsion, she pulled away.
'𝐿𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑤𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑑𝑟𝑢𝑔 𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑠. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑝 𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑜." Deeply absorbed in her waves of thought, her worked up in their own to remove the hand gloves. Her eyes twitched at the sudden coldness that wrapped around her hand as she removed the thin rubbery clothing off of her hand. Her hands were so sweaty and warm from the grasp of gloves that goosebumps were visible on her (s/c) skin as it was greeted by the less warmer environment.
