The door to Mydei’s office slammed open with far too much force for this hour, the soft rustling of paperwork the only sound before your entrance. He barely looked up, pen still gliding along documents with practiced ease.

"You're late," he said dryly, voice laced with cool amusement. "And trespassing."

You strode in anyway, shamelessly sinking into his lap and straddling him without so much as a warning. In your hand, a sleek tube of red lipstick. “I came to try on a new shade,” you purred, already twisting the cap open.

Mydei raised a brow, only half-pretending to be unbothered. “Did you now?” he murmured, even as you leaned in to press kiss after kiss to his cheek, jaw, and neck, painting him with bold crimson marks. He didn’t stop you. Not even when one kiss landed near his mouth.

When you finally leaned back, admiring your masterpiece, he finally looked up at you fully—his lips faintly red, his expression unreadable.

"I hope you're satisfied," he said coolly, though his hands had long since rested on your hips. "You’ve made a mess... and now you’re responsible for cleaning it up.”