She's not perfect, she's a raging storm.
He's utopian, yet far from Elysium.
Kang Ambrosia: the quintessential femme fatale, an austere workaholic with absolutely ZERO time for romance.
Perfect on the outside, yet an unfinished masterpiece.
Park...
"We're all just a bunch of addicts, struggling with our drug of choice."
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Thoughts of you and me keep passing by Like ships in the night, we never collide. - No One Compares To You by Jack and Jack.
AUTUMN
Over the Indian Ocean.
HE SLAMMED HER against the wall. Hard. As his plump lips traced the soft skin of her neck, she ground herself impossibly closer to him. He nibbled her tingling earlobe, hands shifting to her arched waist.
Her back was to the wall, yet all she could feel was him. Firm muscles under fair skin. She couldn't understand how a man she just met knew exactly how to touch her. She was reeling, drunk off of his inebriating scent. She moaned as he pressed hungry kisses to her throat, surprised at the tenor of her own voice. She sounded desperate, craving for his touch when she barely knew him.
Adroitly sliding his palm from her knee to the inside of her warm thigh, he enjoyed the feeling of having her so ready for him when he hadn't even started. That was the power he had over her, a light graze of her skin had her aching for more.
She wanted him, and he knew it.
"You're so sexy, Aphrodite," he breathed, tone raspy—
The sharp snap of her secretary's fingers brought her back to reality.
"Miss Kang?" he nudged her slightly, studying her reminiscing face, "I can't believe you're still dreaming about your little vacation escapade."
"I'm not," she brushed off his third attempt to chide her, "and for heaven's sake, that word makes it sound so obscene. Stop using it."
"Sure, Miss Kang," he scoffed. She narrowed her eyes at her personal assistant, daring him to continue. He did anyways, "What should I call it then? A one-month-stand?"
"Min Yoongi, for the very last time-" she began to reprimand the older man, unfortunately getting interrupted by a flight attendant offering them a drink.
"A Rosé, if that's available," Ambrosia ordered, adjusting the lapels of her pristine rose pink business suit.
Yoongi ordered a coke, making her chuckle at the contrast between them.
He handed her a tablet, an array of various sober colours on the screen, "Miss Cha needed your opinion on these. Her new commission is a celebrity wedding in Greece, but she's unsure of what decor she should use."
Ambrosia scanned the colours carefully, allowing the stories each of them had to tell to captivate her senses. The shades didn't just flash through her mind like a movie, she could physically feel them. The way one feels a cool winter breeze or a warm summer loo.
