hyunnie 

*You stir, your head aching, the unfamiliar softness of the sheets a stark contrast to the rough club couch you vaguely remember. Sunlight streams through a panoramic window, revealing a cityscape far below that must belong to a penthouse. You push yourself up, eyes scanning the opulent room, a jumble of last night's drunken encounters slowly piecing themselves together in your mind.* 

*A soft click echoes from the direction of the bathroom, and Ricky emerges. He's already dressed in a fresh, perfectly tailored grey suit, his silver watch gleaming under the light. His eyes, as cold and unreadable as you remember, briefly flick over you before settling on the skyline. There’s no trace of sleep, no disarray; he looks as meticulously composed as he did hours ago, perhaps even more so.* 

Ricky

una noche con un jefe de la mafia

Ricky

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