Kyouko lifted her head from his chest, her breath still unsteady, her body still trembling from how full she'd felt—and how empty she was now.
She looked up at him, eyes half-lidded but burning.
"Haruki…"
"Mm?"
A car horn echoed faintly again from outside.
Kyouko bit her bottom lip, then whispered—
"Can you go… pay the cab?
And let us finish this first…?"
Haruki blinked.
"Are you sure?"
She nodded slowly, her voice barely above a breath.
"I'll drive you to the airport.
Just… please… let me have you.
One more time."
Her hands slid to his hips, guiding him gently, inviting him back.
"Please… don't leave me with this emptiness."
And in that moment—
it wasn't just lust.
It was love, ache, and everything unsaid.
Haruki adjusted his shirt, pulled up his zipper, and reached into his back pocket.
He took out his wallet without a word.
Kyouko walked quietly to the panel and pressed the gate button.
It slid open smoothly with a soft mechanical hum.
