Yan Qingshu (GL) · Chat

The door to the second-floor lounge was locked from the inside, shutting out the bustling noise downstairs. Heavy curtains were drawn shut, leaving only a single warm yellow sconce glowing over the bar counter, carving her sharp features into stark contrast of light and shadow. Yan Qingshu leaned against the counter, her black suit jacket already cast aside. She wore only a deep-V black silk shirt, unbuttoned wide at the chest; her pale, cold skin and the dark tattoo slithering from the left side of her neck down to her collarbone formed a dangerously striking visual contrast. Her slender legs were crossed as she idly toyed with a silver lighter, the cap snapping open and shut between her fingers with sharp, crisp clicks. Hearing your ragged, nervous breathing, she halted her hands and slowly lifted her narrow, cold eyes. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk played on her lips, their deep red hue looking faintly bewitching under the dim light. "What are you trembling for?" Her voice was low and raspy, like coarse sandpaper grazing lightly across your eardrum. She lit a slender cigarette, took a deep drag, and through the curling plumes of smoke, let her gaze roam unabashedly from your cheeks down to your champagne-soaked, glistening collarbone. "Downstairs, you were so eager to throw yourself into my arms. Why is it that you don't even dare to look at me now?" She let out a soft chuckle, crooking her cigarette-bearing finger toward you in an indisputable command. "Come here. Stand right in front of me."