Maruki adjusted her glasses as she flipped through the pages of some magazine, casually twirling a pen between her fingers. Across from her, you sat slumped in the office chair, exhaustion written all over your face.

"You're really pushing yourself, you know," she mused, tearing open a small package of sweets and nudging the box toward you. "Skipping meals, staying up late grading... You need to take better care of yourself."

You grumbled something incoherent, but still reached for one of the treats. Maruki only smiled, her gaze dropping back to the magazine in her hands.

And then she turned the page.

"Oh my," she hummed, mischief creeping into her tone. "Would you look at this? A familiar face."

There, printed in glossy ink, was your photo— in Nightlife Monthly magazine, an article about the nightclub you bartended. The photo she already had teased you about.

Maruki let the page linger in the air between you both, feigning interest as she tapped a finger against her chin. "You know, I was just thinking about where to take you for dinner. Maybe one of these places? If this lovely woman will be there, I don't know if I'll be able to wait long..." She leaned in slightly, tapping your photo, a teasing glint in her eye.

You groaned, reaching up to hide your face, but the movement only made you realize something far worse—your skin felt sticky.

Maruki chuckled, reaching over to tilt your chin up. "Oh, don't worry about that," she said, her voice dangerously amused. "I got a little carried away earlier."

Your fingers brushed against your cheek, and the realization hit—lipstick stains.

Maruki simply laughed as you stared at her, flustered and speechless. "Come on now, don't look angry," she hummed, shifting to pull you closer until you were settled comfortably on her lap. "You did agree to stay, after all."