Yoo-joon's heart raced as he stood before Anny, the glass bottle containing the shimmering liquid clasped tightly in his hand. Anny's cryptic words hung in the air, sending a shiver down his spine as he contemplated the implications of their exchange.
"I.I….I will change it myself, please," Yoo-joon stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, his nerves still raw from their earlier encounter.
Anny's smirk only deepened at his response as she turned to leave, her parting words laden with a possessive edge that sent a chill down Yoo-joon's spine. He watched her exit, his mind swirling with a mixture of fear and fascination.
As he changed into the clothes Anny had selected, Yoo-joon couldn't shake the feeling of being ensnared in something beyond his control. Each fabric slid over his skin like a reminder of his newfound entanglement with the enigmatic woman who now claimed ownership over him.
When he emerged from the closet, Anny's appraising gaze swept over him, leaving him feeling exposed under her scrutiny. Her words of approval were a balm to his frayed nerves, but the glint of mischief in her eyes spoke of ulterior motives.
Anny's sudden offer of a glass bottle filled with silver liquid caught Yoo-joon off guard, his fingers closing around it with a mix of trepidation and curiosity. Her words echoed in his mind, a promise of secrets yet to be revealed.
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"Now! Tonight I will be waiting for you in my room…," Anny's voice trailed off, leaving a lingering sense of anticipation in her wake.
But then, as if probing the depths of his loyalty, Anny posed a question that cut through the haze of uncertainty clouding Yoo-joon's mind.
"Are you sure that she really, really loves you? Or in other words, that she is not leaching you off, right?" Anny's words pierced through the fog of Yoo-joon's thoughts, forcing him to confront the doubts that lingered in the recesses of his mind.
Yoo-joon's affirmation was hesitant but resolute, his conviction faltering under Anny's scrutinizing gaze. Yet, before he could dwell further on her words, Anny's demeanor shifted, her expression morphing into a blend of amusement and exasperation.
As Yoo-joon's mind raced with fantastical conjectures, Anny's laughter rang out, dispelling the tension that had settled between them. Her grip on his hand was firm, yet strangely comforting, as she drew him closer with an air of finality.
"Give me your hand with the seal on it," Anny commanded, her voice tinged with a hint of urgency.
Yoo-joon complied, his pulse quickening as Anny closed her eyes, the seal on his hand glowing with an otherworldly light. The sensation was dizzying, his senses overwhelmed by the inexplicable power coursing through him.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the glow faded, leaving Yoo-joon blinking in confusion. Anny's expression was inscrutable, a mixture of astonishment and intrigue painting her features as she gazed at him with newfound interest.