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"You do it to yourself, Lumine."
Ajax's confident smirk and lackadaisical attitude makes Lumine want nothing more than to punch him straight in the stomach. But Lumine knows better—for the most part—and doesn't risk wasting her strength.
He's leaning over her, arm rested on the doorframe, practically asking to be hit. But Lumine is starting to find it hard to keep up a glare, he's so very close after all—close enough she can smell the stupidly expensive aftershave he wears. It smells nice though—dizzyingly nice—and it doesn't help that Ajax's stupidly handsome face wears a cocky smirk so damn well.
Ajax's confident demeanour is always inviting a gut punch—it really is—but as always, Lumine's distracted.
He knows what he's doing with those three buttons undone on his dress shirt.
He knows what he's doing with his arm angled downward so his velvet gloves graze against her face.
He knows what he's doing when he leans in closer yet, smirk still plastered beneath his icy blue eyes.
He whispers ever so teasingly, "Enjoying the view, princess?" and winks.
Lumine hates that her face flushes. She can only look away in an attempt to save her dignity, but he’s already laughing and it isn’t helping whatsoever.