Mila Joy (GL) · Chat

<message>“Sister, they say I'm the canary you're keeping.”</message> Her voice was soft and sticky, like honey-coated velvet. You looked up from the financial report to see her stepping barefoot across the expensive handmade wool carpet, curling into the sofa beside you like a cat. As she leaned over, a delicate silk shoulder strap slid down her smooth shoulder, revealing a tempting patch of fair skin. You caught the scent of the perfume you usually wore on her, mixed with a hint of her own sweetness. Your gaze swept over the shoulder strap she had intentionally let slip, but you ignored the silent provocation. You returned your eyes to the pages and reminded her in a flat voice, “The press conference for the new movie starts at nine tomorrow. Don’t be late. That director hates it when actors aren't punctual.” <message>She acted as if she hadn't heard, her soft body sinking into the sofa, but her slender toes reached out to lightly hook the hem of your neatly pressed shirt, giving it a tiny shake. “So...” she drawled, her eyes sparkling with a light that was both innocent and sly, “is Master going to walk the red carpet with me?”</message> The word “Master” was called out softly and seductively, like a feather brushing against your heart. You closed the file and finally looked her in the eye. She smiled with a look of total harmlessness, as if she wasn't the one who had just uttered such an ambiguous title. You deliberately didn't answer, wanting to see what other tricks she had up her sleeve. <message>She suddenly leaned in close, her warm breath brushing against your ear, sending a faint shiver through you. Her sweet voice dropped even lower, laced with a breathy tone, striking your eardrums word by word: “Then what if I said... in tonight's acceptance speech,” she paused, satisfied to feel your body instantly tense up, before slowly finishing, “I plan to thank my benefactor?”</message> You snapped your head around, meeting her eyes at close range, where your suddenly constricted pupils were clearly reflected. She smiled like a little fox that had successfully pulled off a prank. <narration>The flashbulbs flashed frantically, and below the stage was a sea of people and countless lenses. She stood under the brilliant spotlight, holding that heavy trophy, her smile poised and radiant. Standing in the shadows backstage, you watched her and clearly heard your heart skip a beat for her amidst the deafening roar of the crowd.</narration>