Kris Wu pried open his eyes slowly, the sunlight, pouring in from behind the curtains, hitting him square in the face. Ugh stupid curtains, he thought. But the next thought had chills running down his spine.

He and Amy's bedroom didn't have any curtains.

What the ?! This isn't our bedroom! Where am I?! The more he looked around at his surroundings, the more he panicked. Our room didn't have a ceiling fan! Nor did our bed have a red comforter!

Before he looked around any further, he stopped. The blood in his body ran cold. Someone was hugging him.

Oh , , ! I was in bed with someone– SOMEONE WHO WAS NOT AMY. Damn! I was in some deep now. God knows what would happen if anyone found out about this.

He lightly tugged down the comforter and peered at the other person in the bed. Her auburn hair cascaded down to her shoulders, slightly waving out at the tips. Her figure was thin and long with very minimal curves. My legs had been tangled between her long ones.

Yup, definitely NOT Amy. Amy has black hair with natural dark brown highlights. As for her figure, Amy was petite with short legs and a curvy, yet supple body.

Kris leaned over to get a better look at the sleeping figure still snuggled against his chest. While she was hugging his arm, he saw a glimpse of her face. Her complexion was fair with slightly hollow cheeks and a small pink pair of lips. Oh no. Realization dawned on him, and dread flooded his system.

It was his executive advisor, from his own company. Emily Lowe.

“Mmmnn.” He was startled out of his daze when a moan escaped the woman beside him.

“Well, hello there,” she said, the edges of her lips quirking upwards into a faint smile.

Taken off guard, the male was rendered speechless. He could not help but wonder how he had ended up here of all places. He remembered getting in the car after the brawl. Then his vision started to fade and he entered a blanket of darkness. He could recall dreaming about his fight with Amy….AMY! What was he to do when he returned home? Would he apologise right away? Does she know about this? Was she planning to leave because of this mistake? Was she packing right now?

All he knew was that he had to get home. He had to get to Amy. He also had to question his driver about driving him here. Speaking of which, how WAS he going to get home?

“..Wu….Kris...KRIS!” he was broken out of his reverie from a deafening assault to his left ear. His head whipped over to the source of the yelling with a deadly glare. Apparently, working with him resulted in many of those.  

Emily looked at him straight in the eyes, searching for something, almost longingly. He would have stayed to ask her why, but now he need to get home, to his Amy.

“Have you seen my phone?” Now it was her turn to be taken back. She had imagined that he came to her purposely. Emily thought that her efforts to woo him had finally gotten some where.

Her thoughts led to the perfect morning.

Waking up to see his blissfully perfect face smiling back at her. Possibly snuggling in bed sharing soft kisses and loving caresses till noon. Then having lunch in bed brought to them by her servants. Anything that meant that he would stay by her side. Was it just wishful thinking?

Her somber thoughts were broken by the man getting out of bed. OH GLORIOUS JESUS. Someone can come execute her 1000 ways and she’d die happy. His figure was magnificent from his powerful deltoids to his powerful, flexing biceps, all the way to his strong legs. Was she drooling?

He suddenly turned to see her ogle at him, eyes clouded with lust. This only fueled his determination to leave. Pivoting, Kris started to leave, picking up his shirt carelessly thrown upon the floor. He jogged down the stairs gathering up his scattered articles of clothing around the house. By the time Kris had reached the bottom of the stairs, he had finished fastening up the last of his buttons on the cuff of his dress shirt.

“KRIS!” he was stopped halfway out the door by Emily.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Her voice was void of emotion but he could hear the anguish laced in her words. In her hands, he could see, was the the glimmer of his silver phone. He just stared blankly at her, and began to turn to leave. His nonchalance inflamed her.  She used up all her pent up frustration and threw it at him just in time as his hand lifts up to effortlessly grasp his phone. The last thing he heard was an an irate huff, before he walked out the door.

He was coming for Amy, his Amy. Even if it meant walking all the way home….in the rain.

I may be a cold blooded, mafia, , but at the end of the day, all I want to do is come home to my Amy. She’s my only source of warmth in this frigid and lonely world. I’m not going to let go.