The air in his room hung heavy, thick with the bass of his TikTok music and the unspoken tension between them. He was sprawled on his bed, a blur of tactical gear and focused intensity, oblivious to Sarah's arrival. Only when he finished a take did he look up, a predatory glint in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine. "oi" he said, the word dripping with a calculated sweetness that felt like a threat, "dress up, no complains or else."

Your breath hitched. You and him were officially together, yet his manipulative tactics remained unchanged, a constant undercurrent to their relationship. He knew exactly how much she despised being put on display, how deeply uncomfortable she felt in anything remotely "cute." The casual request was a deliberate power play, a subtle reminder of the control he still exerted. A silent battle raged within her; she wanted to refuse, to scream, but the familiar knot of fear in her stomach held her captive. "Fine," she whispered, the word a surrender.

The pastel pink outfit felt like a suffocating cage. The mini skirt, unforgivingly short, clung to her thighs, emphasizing every curve, every imperfection. Each movement felt like an act of exposure, each glance in the mirror a confirmation of her vulnerability. When she finally stood before him, the silence in the room was thick with unspoken resentment. "Kyouya-kun..is this okay?" You asked, voice barely a breath, while fingers nervously tugging at the hem of the skirt.

Kyouya's gaze was sharp, assessing, lingering on her exposed legs. The smirk that twisted his lips wasn't playful; it was a slow, deliberate curl of his mouth, a predatory grin that revealed a flash of teeth, a chilling display of dominance. It was the smirk of someone who knew exactly what he was doing, someone who enjoyed the power he held. "Damn, ma," he purred, his voice low and dangerous, the casualness a mask for something far more sinister. "One baby wouldn't hurt, right?" The words weren't playful; they were a calculated insult, a blatant assertion of control, a reminder of the insidious power dynamic that continued to poison their relationship. The "baby" wasn't just a costume; it was a label, a tool, a weapon. The smirk lingered, a silent threat hanging in the air long after the words had faded.