—

— Seductress —

Chapter two.
—

Your eyes are a world of passions to me.
And when I stare in their depth, I see the most beautiful things.

Tempting me in their allure, I am afraid to be your captive.

What should I do when I lose myself within them?

—

—

As I pace down the road to my next location, I send a quick text to my partner in crime —which is sadly, not Aoi— to inform him of my whereabouts.

Central green square. Front of Apcore's building. Sunhat with blue-ribbon.

When I reach the plaza, a wide open space of light gray concrete in front of several corporations' main offices, I look around before taking my sunglasses off. Nothing seems out of place, so far.

I set down underneath a tree's shadow and lean on the stonebrick curb. There are few people around, mostly eating their lunches and taking a smoke. They all seem to be oblivious to my presence, and that's a given, since it is a common public place. We don't give much attention to the strangers and passersbys we happen to see after all.

And thus, I slowly merge with the surroundings, taking out a drawing block from the satchel bag and a pencil. I browse through the content with slight interest. Aoi's skilled sketches of architectures and cities landscapes greet me and I can't help but feel a little admiration. He's good at what he does, and I'm thankful to have him in my life.

My phone buzzes right after that thought.

In view. All set now.

I give a little nod in the emptiness, but I know that he got my sign loud and clear since his camera's on me. I rise from my spot and survey the place. That's when I spot him.

Casually walking out of the Apcore's automated glass doors, he's talking with two other executives. Tall, his build slender but manly, he carries a paper cup of coffee in his hand and it's all I need to carry out my act. Clad in their dark business suits, they send out an aura of power and influence compared to the other employees in the area. It's not the first time that I had been needed to captivate the kind of entrepreneur men, but I can't help but feel a little out of place.

Work is work. Slipping on my business mask, I step out to the group walking to the other direction.

Everything's a facade; the way I walk, my hurried expression, the quick but hasty glance to my wristwatch. With a clumsy pretense, I bolt in the middle of the plaza as if I'm late for an appointment. My eyes are focused on the sketchbook I still hold in my hands even though I'm watching from the corner of my eye the group that's nearing closer with every seconds.

I stop right in the middle of their way, before pulling out my phone as I dial my partner's number under the name of Aren. As if told to turn left, I do and collide against a hard chest with a huff. I lose my balance, fall forwards on my knees and I hear the flutters of paper as I stumble to the hard ground. Confused gasps and silent curses can be heard as my gaze stays on the concrete. I promptly recover and gather with hasty motions the sketches that escaped the pad.

"Uhhh... I'm sorry," I mumble apologetically. One of the man helps me to stand up, his hand curled around my arm. He looks like an European and I thank him with a little smile. He shakes his head, saying that it's no harm before releasing me. I dismiss him with a nod and revert my attention to my target.

Deep forest eyes pin me down with a nonchalant flicker.

He is utterly charismatic, but that doesn't matter. Regardless of how sharp his jawline is, how his sandy blonde hair flows messily but attractively on his head; it's the least of my priorities. Or even how good he fills that suit with his broad chest. Not. My. Problem.

Because he looks aloof and that makes me pissed off in the inside.

"Are you going to stay here and gape at me for much longer?"

His voice is a low murmur when he speaks. The way he paces his speech makes each of his words carry weigh and influence. An indifferent expression covers his features, stiff with slight disapproval. He looks down at me, his brows lifting up as if asking me 'are you done yet so we can move on?'.

I feel my throat tighten at his display of dominance. Conceited prick.

My blood boils in my veins as I bite the inside of my cheek to temper myself. I smile sweetly even though my heart beats like it wants to go and tear his sandy hair apart.

"Uhh... I'm confused," I say innocently, looking as well-intentioned as possible. I think the men alongside the prick —that is Usui Takumi— soften a little bit.

"He was just asking if you were alright," a husky voice asserts. Yeah, of course, and you should probably get your ears checked, I internally roll my eyes. I look at the one who just spoke and my eyes touches the face of a man with a feral grin and eyes of a dangerous gold. His posture is akin to one of a lazy tiger.

"I'm fine, thank you," I respond politely. "And I'd like to apologize for—..."

"Gentlemen, enough time lost here," Usui Takumi cuts in the middle of my sentence. He swiftly paces past me without another word as I stay here, overwhelmed with astonishment. The two others give me a contrite smile before stepping away.

Well, I now understood why he had never been seen with a woman on his arms. Who could stand such a jerk? With my teeth clenched together, I furiously make my way back home without even bothering to send a text to my partner.

Evidences are clear, and they do not speak well in my favor.

—

"Oh God, he's such a jeeeeerk!" Aoi laughs delightfully at my misery. He curls on the wooden floor between our two beds, rolling on it in his laughter. Paying no care to the beer bottles littered on the cramped space, he knocks an empty one down with his showdown. Apparently, it cracks him up to know how lamely I've failed.

I cast him a glare. "Don't even dare to get on his side," I warn him, my finger pointed at him with blast. "Does it hurt to even ask a lady if she's fine? Ughhh..." I slur, the alcohol getting to me. My head rests heavily on my bed as I sit against it, Aoi's shaking body right in front of me. "I damn want to kick you, like right now, Aoi. Who knows, maybe it will make my anger steam off," I menace with a scowl.

He turns to me, before cuddling my legs into his arms, blocking them in case I'd call on my own bluff.

"Geeez," he stutters, more buzzed than I am. "Come'on, you know, maybe he just had a bad day. You only tried to get him once." He sleepily crawls up and puts his head on my lap as he rolls over. My hands automatically thread and clutch his short dark hair. "Even though he sounds like a total bastard. I'd love to meet him," Aoi taunts and I tug on his hair in retaliation. "First man to ever disdain Misa-chi..." Slowly, his voice flutters to only a whisper before his heavy lids close on me.

"Maybe you're just not doing it the right way, who knows," he eventually murmurs.

—

We both wake up on the floor. My head is in the crook of his neck as his arms are swung haphazardly on me. Blinking, I feel the soft light of the sun streaking through our pale yellow curtains. I blink once more, before sitting up and Aoi groans when I shift.

"Where are you going?" he moans hoarsely as he rolls onto his side to shelter his face from the sun.

I climb up to my feet and slowly drag myself to the bathroom. "Out for a morning run."

"Get me breakfast when you come back," he grouses before crawling to his bed.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm all clean and fresh after a quick shower. I brush my teeth and make my way to the kitchen for water and an apple. Aoi's still asleep and I leave him a bottle of water on his bedside table before leaving.

Running has been an escape for me in my younger years. Whenever I felt like life was going wrong, I took some time to run and to clear my thoughts. Today, it is with a mind full of that handsome but unbelievably unpleasant blonde that I make my five miles. With a sprint at the end —merely imagining stomping on his face with each steps makes it easier—, I relax from all the pent up frustration and negative feeling I held for the past 24 hours.

On the way back home, I hit the bakery to buy some donuts for Aoi.

He's still sleeping when I arrive and I drop his breakfast on the kitchen counter before sending a text to Aren —my partner. He replies in a heartbeat that he's up as well as ready, and it's with a refreshed state of mind that I tell him my next plan.

—

With a delicate updo, white lilies clipped in my hair and a white sundress that falls right under my knees, I enter into the Central Academy Salon. Today's collection is mainly focused on contemporary arts and I wander through the galleries with ease. I've been here several times with Aoi before, so I know my way inside of the vast edifice. There are many wealthy heirs and affluent personalities in here that buy fancy paintings without second thoughts.

Unsurprisingly, I spot the tall blonde's broad back in the mingling crowd. He's talking with an agent about the piece of art right in front of him. The conversation appears to be mainly one-sided as the agent rambles a monologue about the painting he desperately wants to sell. I can tell annoyance from one's posture, and Usui Takumi is tense enough to notice it without difficulty.

I check my phone and Aren's message pops up saying that he's right after me. I don't recognize him, but I can feel his presence following me.

This time, a direct approach is the last thing on my mind. I turn around the corner, crossing the blonde's sight without meeting his gaze. He probably caught my profile as I swiftly cut across the room because I feel him shifting in the corner of my eyes.

Did I hit his curiosity yet? I wonder...

Without a back glance, I disappear from his sight down to the second area of the exhibition. A shiver runs down my spine when I recognize his deep and smooth voice fawn over my shoulders.

"Twice in two days? It can hardly be a coincidence."

I smile to myself, because he took the bait. Clearing my expression, I elegantly spin around to face him.

He greets me with the same aloofness he wore yesterday. I don't answer anything, and slowly amble to the next painting.

Men don't like to be ignored.

I can feel his presence behind me, and it unsettles me a little. I don't let it get over me though, because I can't afford a failure again. The classical music filling the room and the audience's murmurs vibrate in the air, covering the wired silence of our empty conversation.

He takes a step closer, and the fabric of his expensive jacket brushes against my bare shoulder. For a thick second, I want to step away but I ground myself into the soft carpet, my heels digging into the lavish fur without remorse.

"Interesting choice," he alleges. My gaze focus on the painting in front of me. Bi-chrome themed painting. It strikes me how much it can tell if I happen to identify myself to it. I dismiss the thought instantly, because I'm threading on dangerous waters if I keep going this way. The mask that is my pretense can't afford to break by any cost.

I pace away with feline grace, gliding through the guests to the depth of the collection. He follows me like my shadow with equal agility. When I hit the bottom of the selection, I notice how disperse the area is, how dark the lights decline.

I trapped him.

Or did he trap me?

I'm in the middle of the last collection's room when I turn around and find him feet away from me, leaning against the open doorframe. The room is empty of both painting and guests save for the two of us.

His fit body flexes when he moves as he eyes me down intently, a glint in his calculated gaze. He's cunning in all his splendor and I feel strangely cornered.

It's with confidence that he slowly strides to me.

"Are we done playing cat and mouse?" He asks seductively, but with a nonchalant edge in his voice.

I stare back at him, locking our eyes together and step inside his space. My head slowly tilts back as his bends down to keep eye contact in my progress. Palms lightly skimming across the expanse of his chest, I lightly press them against his hard ridges. He takes his hands out of his slacks' pocket and right before he holds me by the small of my back, I pull away.

A whisper of his fingertips tickles my waistline in my fleeting escape.

"I don't think so..." I murmur and it's almost a purr in the silence. Taking two steps back to regain an appropriate distance, I recollect my wits. We're both playing a dangerous game, and we know that. The tension only rises with our provocative demeanor.

One of his eyebrow raises. His lips slightly curl upwards with faint amusement when he closes the gap between us.

He allows a slow smile to spread on his feature, and it's bewitching to see. "And what would the mouse do when it is caught?" He speaks slowly, as if he has all the time in the world to savor this moment when he inches nearer. My heart starts to race at his proximity.

"You're all talk, but no harms." Taunting him, I also step closer with a devious grin.

Before I know it, he pins me up into his strong arms, my front plastered to his. My feet barely touch the ground as he holds me in place and I find no relative escape. Taking a sharp inhale, I instantly regret it because his refined cologne invades my senses. My eyes are ensnared by his when my hands press on his torso for leverage.

"Really?" he asks diligently. It's a rhetorical question he slides here, because we both have the answer already.

He knows I'm flustered. But two can play this game.

"Yes. And who says I am the mouse?"

With a semblance of temptation, I deliberately tear my gaze from his eyes. Slowly, —ever so slowly—, I trail down his charismatic features and halt on his sensual lips. How would he kiss me, were he to do it right now?

With feral hunger?

Or gentle affection?

I let an audible gasp escape my lips, as if caught of wrongdoing before flashing my eyes back to his. Unwanted warmth surges up to my cheeks and colors them with a cherry pink.

My act strokes his ego. I can practically feel his body humming with satisfaction under my touch. His hold on me tightens, and I'm too busy trying to push him away that I don't notice his head dipping down to my neck. I hiss when I feel his nose trace a path up to my ear, leaving my skin sensitive in its wake. His lips pause right over my ear, and I shiver uncontrollably when he speaks lowly.

"Your smart mouth might lie, but this," he bites down the shell of my ear and I give out a surprised cry, "—does not lie."

I immediately struggle in his hold and he releases me, not without a low chuckle at my reaction. With a scowl, I saunter away from him, a semblance of pride coating my escape, despite the fact that my senses are all jumbled in the inside.

I arch my eyebrow with aversion. "What a charming line," I mock. His chuckle stretches into a bold grin.

I don't give in, and deliver the best detached expression I can as I cross my arms over my chest.

"Do women swoon all over you when you deliver that kind of approach?" I inquire as I leisurely pace around him to reach the exit. I hope he doesn't detect my intention to leave. Following me with his eyes, we both act out on a sudden whim.

I bolt for the door as he shots back and blocks it with his frame, his hands stalling on either side of the doorframe. It'd almost be funny if we weren't being so cautious and edgy.

"Quite desperate, aren't we?" he provokes with a knowing smile. "Afraid of how much my said 'lines' affect you?"

"I could return the offense," I spit with demure assurance. "Perhaps are you afraid that you won't ever see me again?"

A glint of approval shines in his eyes. "I would really love to bite that mouth of yours." His shoulders sag down as he loses his hold on the door. "Just to know if it would taste as sweet as the bitterness of your words..."

I pinpoint in the background an individual intent on browsing the room Usui blocks, and it's just perfect to call his bluff.

"Try me," I smirk, before stepping backwards with bristle strides. He slowly disengages from the entryway but before he can take a step towards me, someone clears his throat, signaling his presence behind the blonde predator. I beam with mischief when I see the realization of my trick dawn on him. His emerald eyes darkens on the spot as he wordlessly moves away. I swiftly retreat towards the stranger. Faintly, I notice he wears a blue tie the same color of the ribbon I had on my sunhat and I smile at the recognition.

Thank you, Aren, I acknowledge internally, before I flee past him and mingle back in the safety of the crowd. Far, far away from the wild eyes I just had on me.

—

It's barely late afternoon when I get back home. Aoi's absent, the pillows on his bed messily scattered apart. I plop down on my bed before dialing Aren's number.

A firm voice answers. "Aren."

"It's Misaki," I reply briefly. "Did you get anything?"

"Could only get back pictures actually, so I guess not." His report makes my heart sink in my chest.

"Well, alright. That's too bad though," I bitterly laugh. He approves and we hang up.

Not wanting to replay in a loop what happened in the Art Salon, I busy myself with house chores. This stratagem to evade my recollection of the simmering green eyes and deep husky voice works as much as it can.

It's dinner time when I finally finish and tie the last garbage bag I filled with junks. Right on the mark, I hear the door unlock and open on a tired Aoi. He carelessly puts down his messenger bag and gets rid of his shoes with casual indifference. It's when his gaze falls on the neat and tidy apartment that he realizes that I am glaring at him for his behavior.

"Sorry, sorry, Misa-chi," he says, and quickly bends to righten his mess. "What's there to eat?" He asks to himself, as he strolls to the fridge.

I totally am an useless cook so I always leave the food up to Aoi. And half an hour later, I'm glad, once again, to have him in my life. Delicious scent of meals fills the room and we dig in without much delay as we share our day.

The next days, I don't try to meet the infamous Usui again, and keep going with my usual way of life. A footing the morning, researches in the day, and the completion of few other tasks and cases in my free time. Because I don't want our encounter to look that unnatural, I let a day or two flow by. Aren and I keep track of his moves nevertheless, and thanks to shady means, we have our hands on his full schedule for the two next weeks. Which is more than I need.

I'm hoping to finish this in one week, but perhaps will I need a few more days, I text Aren, —just to be on the safe side.

I note down that Usui has a trip planned to the main city in about a week, before putting my researches on hold. I dress casually, far from the upscale style I put on when I'm undercover and make my way out to Aoi's auntie café.

It's his birthday, so they prepared a surprise for him. Of course I had to go, and for nothing in the world would I miss my best friend's —and who I consider as my little brother— birthday.

—

When I arrive, it's already dark and a few customers remain in the shop. I stay in the back of the café, preparing the several gifts pilled in the closet. Satsuki —Aoi's auntie and the manager of the café— shoo's me out to the main dining room when she closes the front door. With the help of the other waitresses, whom I'm familiar with; Erika, Honoka and Subaru, we put on the various decorations in place.

We're nearly finished with all the birthday's balloons when I hear a gentle and feminine laugh behind me. It oddly reminds me of someone, but I can't place the voice on a face right away. Only when I turn around and see a flutter of long and curled light blonde waves does it strikes me.

Erine.

I immediately turn back, afraid my face would remind her of someone she became infatuated with, a week ago. What the hell is she doing here?

"Something's wrong, Misaki?" Subaru asks me, as we were folding paper garland for the walls. I silently shake my head and smile to reassure her.

"Everything's alright," I whisper.

She frowns. "Why are you even whispering?"

Before I could answer, a light tap touches my shoulder and I dread turning around. I abruptly crouch down and moan painfully.

"Urghhhh, my stomach is killing me! Sorry I need to..." and before I finish, I bolt to the restrooms. On the way there, I spot Aoi, who has just gotten here. I hastily drag him down with me to the toilets.

"What the—," he chokes. "Misak—..." I clamp my hand on his mouth before he speaks any further and lock the door behind him.

"We're in damn big trouble!" I sputter-whisper with frantic gestures. "Oh God, how can it be? We're dead dead dead—..."

He stops me in my endless pacing and whisper-shouts back, "What the hell is going on?!"

"Erine!" I urge him with panic. He looks at me, confused.

"Who? What? Erine?"

I want to slap him and then slap myself because I could have explained the situation in a few words but freaked out instead. I can't help it nonetheless, so I keep freaking out on him.

"Erine! Like... E, R, I..." I start spelling, my heart falling down and beating up against my chest. Even my heart is confused, see?

"I got it, I got it, Erine! But who is she?!" Aoi pins me from my restroom-patrol and gently shakes me.

I take a deep breath because the situation is really getting out of hand even though we could've dealt with it so much better. "The angel, blonde, long waves, curls. The case a week ago we took together! She's HERE!" I scream in silence, because if I really do scream, we're busted.

And then, I take Aoi's expression. And he finally gets it.

His eyes widen and widen, and widen... and then color drains from his face as he looks at me with a terrific expression. His mouth opens, closes, to eventually open again.

"We. Are. Totally. Fucked..." he says.

I can only nod in dreadful approval.

—

Author's note:

Thank you for your support and lively thumbs up!
I'm glad you guys hold interest in my story, and I hope it keeps you on your toes! ;D !

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