"You look nice."

A frown pressed against her garnet painted lips. “Choose a better adjective.”

"Dazzling."

"That’s gaudy."

"Gorgeous?"

"Desperate."

He remained silent for a moment before deciding on “Perfect.”

Her expression puckered as she chewed her cheek. “That’ll do, I suppose.”

She turned around, her hips rocking from side to side as she glided across the room. His eyes followed the black silk fabric cascading from her shoulders to her waist, leaving the smooth plains of her back bare for him to drink in, save for the solitary diamond pendant swinging between her shoulder blades tauntingly.

"What are you doing here, Sehun?"

She turned to glance at him over her shoulder. He took it as permission to enter, crossing the threshold of the door.  He didn’t bother to take off his shoes, dragging his feet across the familiar plush carpet. She disappeared into the hallway, returning with a pair of glistening earrings in her palms.

"I can’t come over without you calling me?" he asked, taking a seat in the black leather settee.

"What if I had another client right now?" she frowned, fumbling with the diamonds as she placed them in her ears.

"You bring other patients here?" he asked, attempting to mask the note of irritation in his voice.

"Clients. And when their treatment calls for it, yes." she snapped, turning to face him, "Anyways, I’m busy tonight."

"When does their treatment call for it?"

She rolled her eyes, walking past him to the small cart adorned with crystal glasses and wine bottles situated in the corner of the living room.

"I don’t discuss open cases, especially with other clients."

"Your patients are ing basket cases, what’ll they care?"

“Clients,” she hissed, “And you’re one of them.”

He pushed himself from his seat, striding to her side, his hands naturally resting at her waist as he placed himself behind her. His breath danced across the skin of her back as he placed a kiss upon her shoulder, tucking himself into the nape of her neck. She trembled beneath his fingers, a soft sigh escaping at the sensation of his lips.

"Do you get all dressed up like this for your ‘clients’?" he mumbled into her skin, his fingers digging into her hips.

“Watch it.”

"Do you them too?"

The room echoed with the sound of her palm colliding with his cheek. He bit his lip, turning to face her, the sting emanating across his cheek.

“I told you to watch it.” She spoke through gritted teeth, her vermillion lips trembling.

“Who is he?” he asked quietly, his hard gaze unwavering as it locked onto her own.

“You don’t know him.”

“Tell me.”

“What difference will it make to you?”

“I wanna know.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sehun,” she scoffed, turning around to retrieve her glass from the cart, taking a quick sip, “It doesn’t matter.”

He didn’t respond for a moment. She stared down at the bottle of champagne on the table, listening as his footsteps receded, the warmth of his body leaving the bare skin of her back.

“Then why is it bothering you so much?”

She turned sharply. He sat upon the large emerald leather seat, the seat she always occupied. His small, dark pupils rested on her, still, unmoving, seemingly dead, if not for the swirling spark of intent flickering within them.

“What’s bothering me?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“There’s nothing.” She furrowed her brow, masking the frustration that clearly painted her face with a veil of confusion.

“We both know that’s not true, doll.”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Sorry.” He half- smirked, turning to glance around the room, his eyes resting on certain familiar objects; the settee across from his seat, the glazed mahogany table, the small collection of flat sitting cushions beside the fireplace. “Old habits. You know.”

Her jaw clenched, the ruby line of her lips pursing. She let out a deep breath, taking another sip of her drink. Her nerves calmed, her shoulders relaxing as she turned her gaze away from his figure in her chair. She knew better than to fall into his traps.

He watched intently as she strolled about the room, glass in hand, the pendulum swinging back and forth across the enticing curve of her spine. A warm satisfaction coursed through his veins as he noticed her obvious efforts to avoid him. He allowed himself to imagine his hand upon the small of her back, following that same delicious curve of her figure as she brought herself closer to him. He leaned back against the seat, smirking as if he’d had her already.

“You’re not going with him tonight. Whoever he is. Another shrink maybe? A ‘colleague’ of yours?”

Her head shot up at the sudden declaration, shocked for just an instant before the anger bloomed across her features.

“That’s not for you to decide.” She scowled, “Now, I think it’s time for you to go.”

“I only just got here.”

“And what for? You haven’t even said-“

“What do we always meet for, doctor?” he tilted his head. “It’s like I said, you’re not the only one who gets to decide when she wants some private sessions. I’m your patient and I need help, real bad.”

A harsh, hollow laugh fell from her lips. “Is that so?”

He glared up at her, the playfulness vanishing from his eyes. She set her glass upon the mantelpiece, folding her arms as she turned to face him.

“I thought I’ve made this abundantly clear, Sehun.” She spoke in a low voice, her words heavy, “You are a client, just like all the others. What’s happened in the past is in the past. It was a mistake. You’re just a client-“

“Tell me, when’s the last time you ed a client?”he snapped, losing his patience.

“-And that’s all you’ll ever be!”

“Stop ing lying!” he yelled, pushing himself from his seat. In three quick strides, he reached her side, his hands curling around her wrists, his body pressing hers against the wall.

“Who’s lying?” she scoffed, almost smiling at the frenzied look within his eyes.

“You know that’s not true-“ he spoke quickly, his eyes narrowed, “I don’t care who it is you’re going out with tonight- You know he’s nothing- nothing like me. You know he’ll never make you-“

“You’re a ing basket case, Sehun!” She snapped, her words venomous and sharp, “Just like you said.”

The words died on his lips, his grip upon her arms loosening. She stared him down with the same hard eyed look he’d given her just moments ago. His image in the reflection of her irises appeared distorted, broken, warped.

“Did you really think this could be anything more than what it was?” she breathed, pushing him aside as she stepped away, rubbing her wrists tenderly. “Did you really think I could ever be serious about someone like you?”

Her hair came undone, falling haphazardly about her back as she retreated to the settee, her figure hunching over as she stared at the freshly forming bruises upon her skin.

“Just go, now. Before you get hurt any more.”

He stared absently at her , the pendulum resting just above her hips, completely still. His stomach churned, the frenzy in his mind dying down to a dull, vague sensation, one too faint for him to even realize what it was anymore. With blank eyes, he let his gaze wander over the room, each seemingly familiar piece, now distant and unknowable. Suddenly, he felt out of place, as if intruding upon a stranger.His jaw clenched and unclenched, a film of salt blurring his vision. He wondered if perhaps this was what she’d felt like so many times before.

With a deep sigh, he consented to her request, his heavy footsteps sounding in soft thuds upon the carpet. She remained still upon the settee, now staring intently out the window, the moonlight casting shadows upon her face, complementing the ivory tone of her skin. Her lips, red as ever, continued to tremble. With one last glance in her direction, he reached for the door, his fingers lingering on the knob as a small glimmer in the moonlight caught his attention. He glanced back at the drawing room, a pale, laminated folder stuffed between a collection of magazines on the table beside the emerald chair reflecting the light of the night against its surface. Slowly, he approached the rack, retrieving the file from between the thick editions of fashion editorials. The file was bare, stark white, with nothing upon its surface but a small tag which read in thin typewritten ink, “Oh Sehun”.

“Do you keep all your client’s files at home?”

She turned to face him, glancing down at the opened folder within his hands. A moment of what seemed like panic flickered over her features. He skimmed over the contents, certain, recurring terms bolded and italicized throughout. His lips formed the words, his eyes flickering back to the small passport photo copied just above them.

“maniac. Obsessive-Compulsive. Erotophilic. Histrionic Personality Disorder.”

With each term, her gaze seemed to waver, her eyes averting to the floor, her chest rising up and down as she breathed erratically. When he continued to read her notes in detail, the all too familiar smirk making its way onto his lips, she stood up, her nerves worn thin. As she strode out of the room, he reached for her arm, pulling her back. His fingers dug into her sides, holding her steadfast as her fist pressed meekly against his chest.

“Let go, Sehun.”she whimpered, her voice so delicately shattered he couldn’t help but to smile.

He cupped her chin with one hand, tilting his head to place a kiss against her neck. Smoothly, he hummed, “You’re a great actress, you know.”

She closed her eyes, focusing on the slow, long breaths warming the nape of her neck. His hand left her chin to caress her sides, reaching behind to feel the curve of her spine, arching her back to press her against him, sending a shiver through her flesh. His lips grazed across her skin, placing kisses here and there, searing hot and wet with lust.

“’Refers to all targets as ‘doll’.” He recited against her skin, placing a kiss upon her collarbone.

“’Utilizes competitive techniques.’” His lips dragged across , his teeth biting her skin gently, flushed red bruises blooming across the alabaster surface of her neck.

“’Expresses desire for emotional dominance.’” One hand slid along the curve of her body, knotting into the long locks of her hair, pulling her head back. A soft moan escaped her lips as his own lingered before her, his eyes flickering over her features almost analytically.

“’Demonstrates lack of remorse.’” He harshly pulled her against him, his lips crashing against her own. He groaned as she clenched at the fabric of his shirt, her lips tugging at his as his hands trailed down to her hips, roughly bringing her leg up to wrap around his waist, her back colliding with the wall.

Hesitantly, he pulled away, gasping for air as she stared, dazed at his lips.

“If you knew all that,” he breathed, tilting her chin up to face him. She shifted her gaze between his dark pupils, the matte red paint of her lips now slightly faded, no longer trembling, but swollen as she breathed sweetly upon his cheek, “Then who’s the real basket case here, doll?”