Kwon Jiyong never did have any excitement in his life.

Ever since he grew into a teenager, it had always been home, school, friends, home, school, friends…

Then when he became fifteen, his mother died. That  caused a subtle change in his schedule, home, school, friends, funeral… That’s it. So far, for him, the death of his mother became the biggest shift in his life. You see, Kwon Jiyong’s life had always been perfect. Complete A’s, varsity team captain, great clicks, money—it was all planned. Never in his life was he surprised at himself. Not even at birthday parties, he always presumed or guessed that at the end of the day, there will always be something for him. Even the current job as composer/producer of YGE (YG Entertainment)—he saw that one coming.

Don’t get him wrong of course. This guy is human. He lives. He is not the typical ice prince that is completely hewn out of fresh ice, nope—that kid is so clichéd. Kwon Jiyong lives his life.

At sixteen, he was happy for his dad having married again. Well, they all had to move on, right?

At nineteen, he had his girlfriend. No—this girlfriend isn’t the first one, but Jiyong always thought of having Dara to be his bride. Why? Because she seem to be the perfect girl for him. Complete A’s, drama club’s head, great girlfriends, money—she’s the ‘it’ girl for him. And besides, her mom was all-over him. It looked like Mrs. Park had her eyes on him to be her daughters’ husband.

Hmm—not a surprise indeed.

But then again, Jiyong wasn’t perfect, so that meant Dara was not perfect too. Jiyong knows that his girlfriend was smitten with his best friend, Young Bae—but of course, the girl is too good to admit her fault. Jiyong doesn’t have a say on this, he loves, she loves him back—but she’s too imperfect. She can’t love two guys at once, right? So she’s still with the better one, and that’s Jiyong.

He was always the better one—he never came second best.

Everything was predicted—or so he thought.

Now, Kwon Jiyong is twenty five and he is troubled. He had been like that for a whole year—constantly lost in his own little world. He didn’t even give a damn when he caught his best friend and girl friend made out in one corner of a dark club. Hmm, she was still his at the end of the night anyway.

His mind always travelled back to that faithful night back at France when he stayed at the country for musical promotions of one YG artist. He was owned.

From fashion sense; Jiyong knew that wherever he came, he turned heads, well—that girl basically broke necks. And he was no exemption.

Then to that charisma he couldn’t help but getting swayed himself. Just from watching her from afar, it was as if she also had her eyes on him from the time she stepped on that club on her red killer stilettos. Those no-innocent-forget-me-not cat eyes; those tempting lips that simply smirked when she found him looking at her with the same lust-filled eyes and then, the next thing he knew he gave up. He walked to her and possessively devoured her lips, hands tight and selfish on her hips as he grind them together.

She had him under her spell—that was not predicted.

She had him on her bed. Not that she was his first—but she was the boldest, wildest one.

Perfect—she was perfect on him. Around him. She matched kiss per kiss— per . She was his very equal.

He couldn’t stop himself from thinking how their bodies glide with each other on that dance intimate only on those long forgotten sheets. How her smell made him addicted to it—she wasn’t the sweet type. She had her own scent—a mixture of strawberry and vanilla yet with a hint of well scented cigarette smoke and strong liquor. y, edgy yet very much feminine. Jiyong usually got turned off with women who smokes, not that he doesn’t do it but he just thinks that women should be well—women.

But the way she put the cigar on her pink lips, the way she angled the stick on her dainty fingers—the way she puffed out the sweet scented smoke. It was plain y for him.

Then it came to that sweet, hypnotizing moan that she made when he made love to her. He never heard such music. It blew him right then. His scheduled life, everything, forgotten except her—his mysterious CL.

The next morning he woke up all alone with the phantom of her scent and her still warm side of the bed. She made him go back to that scheduled life of his. But he smirked. Jiyong practically planned on forgetting everything and go with her—so plans never agreed with her. She was untamed. I had a lovely night, love. –CL

And now, her note was still with him. The perfume and color had faded but the butterflies had yet to die. “Son?” Jiyong’s mind was disturbed by his father’s voice. The man lived away from his father and his step-mom, but he occasionally go back every Fridays to catch up and eat dinner. “Yeah?” The boy replied after he secured his secret note back to his coat pocket.

When will I meet you again, love? He asked as he followed his father down to the dining room. The nickname love was continuously running down his mind, she called me her love. And his heart still beat that fast.

He sighed after he sat on his place and smiled at his step-mom. “Wahh—you prepared so much, omma.” He said to her. She wasn’t the one who told him to call her omma since she badly respected his late mother, but the boy insisted that they were family now. He was the son and she was his new mother. “Aigoo, Jiyong-ah. We have a visitor today; I hope you’ll get along.”

And then, a sound of heels against wood interrupted his happy façade. That sound—the way she walked towards him on that bed a year ago. So y, so elegant—so sinful.

It drew him once more, back to that treacherous moment where the most sinful of sins took them over. “Jiyong-ah, meet your step sister, Chaerin.” The same butterflies, the same fireworks—a level higher of lust crawled on him as he looked at those eyes which looked back to him so passion-filled a year ago.

“Hi.” He didn’t move, Jiyong just stared at her. She looked so casual. How could she be his step sister? His heart is about to explode with an overload of emotions and thoughts of her. She moved to kiss his cheek.

She was casual, this Chaerin. Yet her lips trembled, as if she too didn’t expect the blow. Both of them were still shocked, yet the both of them stayed a fraction too long on that simple kiss.

A/N: IMAGES ARE NOT MINE !! I dunno if this is going to be a one shot or two since I am still trying to wrap things up. I just woke up one day and had the very weird idea for this fic. THIS MIGHT INCLUDE  !! (<-- Which is weird because I have zero experiences on writing such scenes, but oh well I'll try my luck)

I was inspired by the movie NO OTHER WOMAN and my favorite lines from it , these are all from Kara Zalderiaga (Anne Curtis). I am promoting a Filipino movie here XD But yes, this is a good movie.

No pressure! And kiss me and don't you dare fall in love with me. You will only be called a mistress when there's an emotional attachment. I'm not a mistress.

I'm out - BTW , comment down , arasso ?? Hehe SMOOCHIES !!