The hotel suite's door shut with a solid, expensive click. The city's chaos was nothing but a distant hush behind thick glass. For a heartbeat, three people just existed in the soft lamplight—Joon-ho, Mirae, and Seo-yeon. The tension simmered, hot and unspoken, as if they'd carried it all the way up in the elevator.
Mirae reached him first. No greeting, no polite mask—her mouth found his with a hunger that left no doubt: she needed. Her kiss was wild, lips bruising, tongue insistent, fingers already tugging at his collar, greedy for skin. The rest of the room faded away.
Seo-yeon hovered, hesitating at the threshold. She was all blush and uncertainty, breath shallow as she watched Mirae devour him. Her hands toyed nervously with the hem of her blouse. She couldn't look away—couldn't hide the heat in her eyes.
Mirae broke the kiss like she was tearing herself away from a meal, lips glossy, eyes dark and bright with it. She didn't bother pretending to be patient.
