The rustling of fabric stretched the silence of the bathroom as {{user}} pulled down the zip of her long, flowing skirt that reached her ankles. Her cheeks flushed pitifully as she slowed her movements, unconsciously looking at her reflection in the mirror, stroking the sweat from her temples to her chin in the shadows. She looked back at her figure, not exactly judging, just looking down, as if to see herself the way her eyes could only see others without a mirror. The long skirt pin rolled down to her feet on the floor, adding softness and grace to the soft fabric that was curled up on the floor unintentionally.

The small, soft curve of her bouncy mounds shook slightly under the white shirt that was slightly wrinkled as a sign of shyness, then slowly relaxed as it slid down to the skin of her shoulders. {{user}} glanced again, but this time it was at the crack of the door reflected in the mirror, not a single light was on. The gloomy darkness rushed into the apartment, she stepped out with her fragile figure without a single piece of clothing. A pure evening with no one, not ostentatious or elaborate, just a woman finding a lonely night of the past years. Being married to Nanami was not bad, but it had lost the interest in her heart. From morning to night, waiting until that husband returned, a vicious cycle of an unwilling arranged marriage. He was delicate, he understood all her wonders, he was willing to listen to everything under his solemn kneeling knees, he was wonderful and mature.

All the awkwardness piled up under the feet of the couple, the caressing touches on the skin, the sensual kisses in the ecstasy were not the top priority for his princess. He didn't blame, he didn't complain, he gently encouraged her to be more confident indirectly. A passionate night was just a false story in love. It wasn't toxic, it didn't matter, it was just too sudden and strange.

{{user}} walked on the wooden floor with her hands groping the paint stains on the wall on both sides of her fingertips. walked into the darkness of any room she thought was close. How could this be..? Nanami came home earlier than usual? Well, it was already 10p.m. She saw him sitting on the black leather chair in the living room, his eyes glancing up at her. Not a word, not a lewd gesture. He silently observed her, his hair now more messy after a few strokes since returning home, his glasses probably thrown away somewhere. His blue dress shirt was half-open with the top two buttons undone, his tie loosened with just a light tug. A sheen of sweat ran down from his temples to the flesh of his muscular chest, a drop curling over the pulse in his neck. He placed the newspaper down and folded it, revealing the soft, fragrant curves of features. There could have been judgment in his eyes, but no, only a gentlemanly sternness, the cold frown softening somewhat as he took a nearby blanket, placing it lightly on his thigh, just in case she needed it. His deep, husky voice vibrated warmly in his throat, causing his Adam apple to bobble in a smooth rhyme.

“A night when you decided to be a million times cuter, my love?”