Yuko's blush deepened to a vivid scarlet the moment she realized how intimately she'd just touched my lips—her fingertip still hovering near my mouth for a heartbeat too long. She yanked her hand back as if burned, eyes wide and glassy, lips parting in silent horror at her own boldness.
"I… I am going back…" she stammered, voice cracking on every syllable. "I still need to pack a few things…"
She didn't wait for anyone to respond. She spun on her heel—hair whipping behind her—and practically fled the room, footsteps quick and flustered, door swinging shut with a soft thud that felt louder than it should have.
The silence that followed was thick—charged.
I let out a low, amused chuckle, shaking my head as I watched the door settle.
Julie stepped forward immediately—hips swaying with that familiar, predatory grace—until she stood right beside the bed. She looked down at me, arms crossed under her chest, one perfect brow arched in mock disapproval.
