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Summary
Kirara rested her head on Hakari's shoulder and grinned. —Ai-ai, Kinya-ah, you're scaring away the customers,—she felt a warm hand slide smoothly from her shoulder to waist.
—I can live with that loss,— Kinji chuckled. —You're getting attention.
—You're way ahead of me in that regard,— Kirara ran a fingernail, newly manicured, down his strong neck. —Half the club is staring at you.
—You might not notice, but the other half clearly can't take their eyes off you.
Hot breath brushed her cheek. Hakari gently tucked a bright blue strand of hair behind her ear with his free hand, then ran his thumb across her red-painted lips.
—So...— Kirara breathed, placing her hand on the back of Kinji's head, her fingers tangling in his hair. —Are they all looking only at us?