XXXIII

G L A S S   D E L U S I O N

—aka, family is subjective; a sore subject and should be ignored,

EXT— AIRPORT.

INCHEON, SOUTH KOREA— MORNING.

SCENE I.

"YOU okay, Nins?"

"No," I grumbled, taking KC's arm and leaning heavily on him. He barely faltered and kept the pace. Truly remarkable of people who were fit to be able to not just carry themselves well after a twelve hour flight, but to also help another person— a feat worthy of the Olympics.

When I felt my stomach twist, I groaned. KC shot me a worried look.

"Christ, you've ever felt so jet lagged that you're kind of nauseous?"

He rubbed my arm soothingly. "Is it something you ate in the plane?"

I sighed, adjusting my shades as we exited out of the airport. The sun was brightly shinning as if to truly curse me upon entering the land I'm not supposed to be in. Airport was fairly empty, and with no one trying to tackle me or point blank shoot me, I would say that's a bit of win on my part.

"No. Just the long flight. I hate long air travels. My body doesn't like it."

Archie sidled up next to us, scanning the area that was more hawkish in the approach than what I was doing, with his tablet propped up on the crook of his elbow and a little frown on his face. "Then buck up. We have another flight in 36 hours, and I expect you not to vomit in it, as it is a smaller plane, and the rest of us will have to suffer through your... delicate constitution."

I grinned, having the strong urge to stab him. "Don't worry, Archie darling. I'll eat lots before the flight and make sure the angle is just right where you are so I can minimise damage."

He levelled me with a look. "That's good to know. I'll make sure you fly in economy an hour after us. Thank you for telling me in advance."

As he left us to go talk to someone— a bodyguard, person who works for him, who knows; the world is bright and my physical ailment is disturbing me — I sighed, leaning further into KC's space. He didn't mind, helping me up like an old woman about to cross the street.

"Dick. It is kind of comforting he hasn't changed?"

"Now that you and the boss are out and out it?"

I snorted. "Out and out it?"

"Not shying away with looking at each other as if you're both just three leaps away from tearing each other's clothes off?"

"Is that what we look like in your perspective?" I asked, amused.

"Many a times I've had to ignore the heated gazes searing on top of my head as I try to eat breakfast, so yes."

I choked on laughter, affectionately snuggling my cheek against the top of his head. "I know I should apologise but..."

"Girl's gotta get laid." He whistled. "As long as you're using protection."

"Right."

"Are you using protection?"

"Do you honestly, really, really wanna know, KC Who's-Last-Name-Doesn't-Exist-To-Me?"

His eyes widened. "Nope. Do you want me to...?"

"No," I said softly, patting his arm. "I got this."

His gaze felt sharp, indoctrinating each and every twitch and movement in my face. But its immovable object and unstoppable force. It's his keen eyesight that can direct bullets from hundred yards away, and my ability to hide behind any mask I can play with.

"I hope you do, Nina doll." His whisper was soft, a warm caress to a cold skin. "I really do like you."

We're in the den of tigers and serpents where monsters come to born and madness reign. There was true fear hinting in his voice, a coolness that lies on my skin like a thin shift of paper.

He wasn't wrong to a degree. I wouldn't call it a big shift in our relationship. I had just... stopped denying myself from the pleasures of the flesh, in equal to that, I was slowly webbing calculated moves. Protection, you could say. Armour. A winning hand.

And the undeniable pleasure that Kristoff wrought from and to my body were good bonuses. Those last three days with him had been... almost beautiful. Distracting, the better word for it. While the good percentage of the time, he made use of it by finishing up his deals and secretive meetings— positive, I could only think were the results, because there was that one time that I saw Archie smiling that showed me God could be merciful and terrifying at the same time — and the rest were mine. There was success on his tongue, a winning hand just so close in the way his fingers dug on my flesh (in possession, dominance, or an anchor, I never know), and he swallows my sighs like they were always his to take.

"You're leaving earlier?" I asked, eyes upward to the ceiling, breath steadying. There was a sheen of sweat on my skin and though not a while ago I was cursing the cold when spring was promised to come soon, I was thankful for the cool breeze. "You're leaving me to the mercy of your lapdog who would push me off the plane given the chance?"

"Mm. Archie won't."

I snorted. "The fact that you know it's Archie means you know it's a probability. Why though?"

There was intimacy in him still being inside me, talking so casually as if he wasn't buried to the hilt and I was still having aftershocks of orgasms that could make a nun in service for forty years believe in God in minutes. He tried to pull away, but it isn't like this is the first time, neither of us were virgins or new to each other— and I needed him there, so I kept my legs locked on his waist and he didn't fight me too hard on it. He laid on top of me, catching his own breath.

"I have things to settle. Make sure everything is in order before you arrive."

"Scared?" I said it as a joke, but he caught the edges.

"No. I said what I said." He put strength on his elbows and peered into me. My eyes had adjusted in the cornerstone of shadows and darkness, and his hair was a mess, bruises already forming. There was a red mark on his chin (messy kissers are messy kissers), and I rubbed my thumb on it. Biting him was too enjoyable to stop. "Nothing I've ever said to you was a lie. I will keep you safe. And I am just making sure everything is in order before you find yourself in my home."

I exhaled when he did the same to me; taking his fingers to my chin, tilting it, pulling. He didn't lean in to kiss, just moving me around. I noticed he liked to do that. Move me around as if trying to find my niches in better hopes of finding the truth.

"You can't be too stern with me. I'm a con artist. Lying is just another language to speak. People rarely sing truths around me, and I can't exactly blame them." His thumb pressed hard on my bottom lip and I gave it a firm kiss, eyes crinkling.

"Hm. Then know this, at least. I will never lie to you." His fingers drew the edges of my lips, rubbed a spot on my neck where I felt tender; a bruise. The same as I did his chin. "My honesty to you is a promise. I will lie with you but not to you."

"That sounds like a proposal."

His eyes held a wicked glint. "Not yet."

INT— A HOTEL.

INCHEON, SOUTH KOREA— AFTERNOON.

SCENE II.

A couple of pills, a headache, and my stomach still feeling precious, I decided to sleep the rest of the day away. As soon as we hit the hotel, I was gone. I didn't even try to listen in on Archie and KC, letting their hushed voices lull me to sleep.

I dreamt of vibrance. Of shadowy corners and burning houses. There are screams that seem to be coming from inside, screams coming from far away. They sounded familiar and unknown. When I awoke, most of the dream had slipped through like water through my fingertips. Hard to grasp, hard to make sense.

The faces blend with the shadows, the definition breaking to zero. The rest that I could remember were Kristoff's face twisted into something ugly, monstrous— a gaping maw to sobs wrecking his body, which was something to try and ponder since I've never seen the man cry, much less sob — a hold on my hip that drew blood, and the scream that felt near until I realised it came from me.

I woke up to a darkening sky and a sweating back, blinking through the haze of being in between awake and asleep. Once the world made sense— hotel room, South Korea, hot billionaire boyfriend and terrifying family — I groaned as I took a sweep around the room. Alone, for the most part, luggages still unpacked and was given blurry instructions as my nausea took a whole new level of Archie telling me not to bother— I found a water bottle, sniffed it, before I made a better sweep of the room, checking for bugs and cameras.

KC didn't roll that way— I knew there were guards posted outside of the building, that's their preferred method of monitoring and I'm not one to begrudge as long as I could still have some semblance of privacy, but I had to check on my own, to make sure. To give myself reprieve.

The extra caution came from the fact that this isn't my playing field. Europe... I had strategic exits. I had people close by to contact if I really needed to. In Asian... not so much. I felt more alone than I have ever felt before, and it brought prickled heat to the corner of my eyes, widening as I felt the weight of what was coming burdened heavy on my chest.

The elevator pinged, I took a sharp, gasping inhale.

When the devil in disguised entered, a little roughed up but still clean cut, dark eyes meeting mine as if anchoring to port, I smiled, letting the wave of relief tide me over.

There's self-hatred at realising he could bring me relief, but when the panic came it felt nice not to become untethered.

"Heya lover, what 'ya been up to?"

"Work," he said curtly, moving around the room like a ravaging thunderstorm before he started yanking drawers. "Have you seen my decanter?"

"It's in the room." I raised an eyebrow as he marched to it. "So... bad day at work?"

When I didn't hear a response, I rolled my eyes. I didn't have illusions of grandeur, nor did I want a romantic relationship from him. I'm a pro supporter of divulging in what our bodies needed without the repercussions of feelings.

You would at least think he didn't act like a big dick.

There's wanting the big dick, and not wanting The Big Dick.

I wondered if my pills were too strong before he came back with a glass, swirling it once, twice, about to take a sip when notched an eyebrow and flicked his gaze back to me.

"You didn't spike this one did you?"

I huffed, lazing up on the elongated sofa before stretching a taunt smile. "Didn't have the time. Just woke up."

"Hm," was the only response I was worth getting apparently, before taking a sip. Then slid half of it down his gullet.

I let him drink for a while before I threw in a dagger. "What crawled up your ass and died?"

He glowered. "Watch it. You better remove that habit of yours when you meet my grandfather."

I mocked a disappointed sigh. "He hates swearing too?"

"He raised me. What do you think?"

I groaned louder, fidgeting with a pillow, having the urge to throw it at him. "Why is your family so fuc—" His look sizzled. "—n. Fun. Why is your family so fricken fun, Kristoff, huh?"

He came closer to me, evidently tamed his storms a little better, before offering a hand. I took it because I was glutton for punishment, and when I stood up, we were close, a hair's breadth away from each other. I kissed the corner of his lip where the mouth moves to make a smile because I want him to exist in the space I offer. Because I wanted him dissipated, and Kristoff Park was putty when intimacy is enticed.

Not offered. Not given. Pried.

There was a viciousness to closeness that he craved. Whether or not he was aware of it was nothing to me, because I liked having sex with him, I like being close and knowing the little things that made him move, made him groan.

I like him when he was malleable, and he's only ever malleable when I'm close enough to devour him.

A kiss, after all, is the first step to cannibalism.

It wasn't that he softens. I can't describe it as softened. Because I have a feeling that Kristoff would break if he wasn't razor-sharp. Pulled taunt in shadowy directions I didn't want to follow. He exhales, is the better word. As if he floats back down from where he was scheming, thinking of all the ways to usurp his cousins and sister, thinking of all his plans that seem to go miles and miles away.

Like a little puppet stretched taunt by strings no one knows who pulls.

I wasn't privy to them, I was just... another means to get there. And they expand. There was always more to the canvas when I thought I've caught the edges. It's why I think he was woven so tight— so afraid of letting go an inch that I destroy everything.

If I felt petty enough on a good day, I just might.

But I do like taking what I want from him, in a perverse way of getting dominance when I could. Because I held on one string, and again, glutton for punishment meant I scavenge, quietly, other strings of him I could find.

I didn't need to work fast. I just needed to be clever enough to find them.

"You ever think the malt in your alcohol is too strong?" I whispered against his lips, plucking it from his hand and taking a sip. We moved in sync; his hands finding their way to my neck, both palms, hot and wide, strong enough to kill me if he so chooses to, cupped my face as if I engulfed everything in his field of vision.

The exhale. Loosening from his strings. Seeing me.

"Tastes like shit," I whispered, smirking.

A growl ripped from his chest, and I was being devoured. His grasp on my face tightened, pushing us back and back. "Jesus—" I squeaked. "Hey, wait, we're going to—" We landed on the sofa with a thud. Well. I landed on the sofa. He landed on me. I glared up, spilled whiskey down my wrist. "— fall. Seriously?"

"Sorry." He shoved his hair with a rough hand, sitting up across from me whilst he took the glass and my arm, gentler. I moved until I was straddled on either side of his hips, his body going taunt to place the glass on the table above his head, before he raised an eyebrow at me, pulling me right down on his crotch.

I snorted, placing my hands on his stomach, steadying myself. "Classy. Want to talk to me about it?"

"Are we on talking basis now?"

"Thought I'd give this lovers thing a try." I grounded my hips, he grounded out a hiss, eyes slanting. "Can't I? Is there truly something more I shouldn't know?"

"It isn't about— stop that." He levelled me with a look, taking my hands and pinning them. We were creasing his suit. Well. I was doing a lot to his suit. "It isn't about what you should know. It's how much you want to."

"What does that mean?"

"Knowing gets you killed."

A shiver ran down my spine. He said it so... matter-of-factly. Expression unchanging as if it was suitable to discuss while I was on top of him and he was hard. I've always understood that there was a callousness to Kristoff that was a struggle for me not to snort at, because it didn't feel real.

Like a puppet saying lines, as factual as saying as the sky is blue.

It's what makes it all the more terrifying. Because when things are made to facts it meant there had been precedents.

"Knowledge is as much power as it is weakness," he continued, tilting his head. Assessing. This uncomfortable itch in the back of my mind grew stronger. Made itself more known.

I leaned forward, placing my chest against his, twinning my fingers with his, and racing it above our heads. A position of vulnerability. His eyes narrowed. I placed another kiss on his lips, nothing but a peck to calm him down.

"So you don't think you can protect me if I know?"

"I could."

"Is that a promise or a matter of fact?" I teased. My hips canted, his eyes fluttered, hands tugging away from my hold and gliding from shoulders down and down until they deftly held my hips. To move me or to stop, he seemed to be fighting himself on it.

"Can't it be both?"

"How absolutely dashing." I moved my hips again. His grip tightened and he breathed against my skin, struggling and sighing, the in between of letting go and snapping control. I tried not to laugh as I pecked his nose. "Tell me something."

"Has—" He strangled out something in Korean. "Has Archie talked to you about the plan before moving to Jeju?"

"No? And is Archie important to this conversation? Truly a ball buster, I have to say."

He exhaled out a laugh, nudging his nose against mine until he dragged my lips to his and we kissed for a while, falling into the rhythm of mindless gorging.

When we separated, he leaned his forehead to mine. "In two days, before we go to the ancestral house, I will be proposing to you."

I pulled back to stare at him. "Oh. So it's not a surprised proposal?"

"No, it's a planned one. But I'm sure you can act beautifully as if it was."

"That I can. Any particular reason why we're moving to the next stage?"

"I am going to introduce you to the rest of my family. It's time for you to meet my mother and grandfather." And the devil smiled, eyes into the future of all his puzzles meeting. The crescendo meetings its mark. "And it all comes to a close in Jeju."

"The ancestral house?"

He pecked my nose. "Mm. Then I'll have everything I need."

And who was I to argue with a crown less king so sure the crown is his?