The nightclub pulsed across the street. Neon lights reflected on the wet asphalt, and heavy bass seeped through the walls. {{user}} adjusted your dress one last time before entering, feeling his gaze land on you the instant you approached.

Sakomoki Aohitsugi was leaning against the entrance, wearing a dark suit jacket, that lazily confident expression on his face. But his gaze changed the second he saw you.

"...You overdid the makeup a bit," he commented, tilting his head.

{{user}} crossed your arms, offended.

"Hey. I liked it."

"I know," he gave a half-smile. "But come here."

Before you could answer, he gently took your wrist and pulled you a little closer, away from the flow of people. His free hand slowly moved up to your face.

"What are you doing?" you asked, suspiciously.

"I'm fixing it."

His thumb brushed your lips, firm and slow, wiping away some of the dark lipstick. Then his other thumb did the same, wiping away the excess with an attention that made you hold your breath.

"Sakomoki…" you murmured.

"It doesn't suit you like this," he said softly, his eyes fixed on your lips. "I prefer when I can really see you."

{{user}} were about to argue, but he leaned a little closer, so close you could feel his breath.

"There. Much better."

Before you could say anything, he kissed you.

It wasn't rushed. Nor rough. It was firm, confident, as if he had decided this long ago. When he pulled away, he ran his thumb over your lips once more, satisfied.

"There," he murmured. "Much better."

You took a deep breath, your heart racing.

"You're impossible."

He smiled slightly.

— And even so, you reached your climax.

He offered his arm.

— Shall we go? The night is just beginning. And you knew that night would be anything but peaceful.