"This hairstyle!" Fujiwara Reya pointed at her hair coiled at the back of her head, "Looks a bit untidy, yet it exudes an artistic vibe, full of fashion sense amid the disorder; clearly the work of a professional stylist."
Kawashima Miki leaned against the sofa, one hand on the armrest supporting her chin, casting him a casual glance: "Really?"
When she was doing her hair just now, she was completely lost in her dream memories. How could it look good?
"Really!" Fujiwara Reya nodded vigorously, "An indescribable charm! (It’s just that it doesn’t look like a styled hair at all, not even worthy of praise.)"
Kawashima Miki instinctively touched her hair.
Her gaze subconsciously avoided him, then coolly returned to Fujiwara Reya.
"And then there are these black stockings," Fujiwara Reya continued, "I always believed that young girls should wear white stockings, making them look pure and cute. Mature women should wear black stockings to look mysterious and sexy. And wives, naturally wear flesh-colored stockings to appear gentle and gracious. Although I call you a lady, Miss Miki, after all, you haven’t truly married, so mysterious and sexy black stockings are a perfect match for your aura."
Kawashima Miki nodded slightly.
"Madam," Fujiwara Reya moved closer and asked, "Can we start?"
"I’m hungry!" Kawashima Miki suddenly stood up, walked briskly towards the kitchen with sharp steps. Suddenly, a cold wind blew, and Fujiwara Reya flashed in front of her, "Sit down first; I’ll make you something to eat later."
"No need!" Kawashima Miki shot him a cold look.
With that, she briskly dodged Fujiwara Reya and went into the kitchen.
"You go ahead and pretend, you’ll suffer later." Fujiwara Reya muttered, taking out the bag given by Dark Crow and started arranging the altar.
In the kitchen, Kawashima Miki took out a papaya from the fridge and happily scooped it with a spoon to eat.
Giving that kid a cold shoulder felt so good!
Eating the sweet papaya, Kawashima Miki’s eyes twinkled with light.
Without the opposition, that kid’s attitude towards her wasn’t so unbearable. Meaning that now, as one of his own people, he wouldn’t be so rude?
Just like how he treats Kasahara Fumi, his behavior is incredibly respectful.
If I also present myself in that way, he absolutely wouldn’t dare to act out.
Thinking of this possibility, Kawashima Miki suddenly got the confidence again.
The behavior of giving someone the cold shoulder should have limits.
After all, he still holds some power over her.
She should be sometimes cold and dispassionate, sometimes gentle and passionate.
As a Luo Xinfu, Kawashima Miki is very aware that this kind of playing hard to get, hot and cold attitude is most likely to keep a man hooked.
"Now, I, Kawashima Miki, am going to be a Hunter once more!"
Confidently declaring, she threw the finished papaya into the trash bin and returned to the living room.
In the middle of the living room, an altar was set up, housing offerings of red Misakaki branches and coins, as well as magic artifacts, and hanging scrolls with spells written on them. Furthermore, the lights in the living room were turned off, with only the candlesticks on the altar, the candlelight gently swaying, dimly illuminating the room.
Kawashima Miki softly called.
That voice was truly coquettish and charming... Fujiwara Reya couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his heart, turning to look at her.
The vague light of the candles illuminated her side face, Kawashima Miki’s hands tightly clenched, revealing a slightly shy smile. This rare shy demeanor was just like a newly wedded wife awaiting the favor of her husband, making one’s heart race.
"Um..." Kawashima Miki glanced at him, then quickly lowered her head, her hands gripping the hem of her short skirt, her slender legs awkwardly pressed together, showing the side of her thigh to him and stammered, "Isn’t this skirt a bit too short?"
A bit shorter would be better... Fujiwara Reya’s Adam’s apple bobbed, swallowing as he said, "Come over here, I’ll give a proper opinion once I see clearer."
Kawashima Miki made a noise, pretending to be shy as she walked towards him.
Halfway through, her steps stumbled a few times, resembling a girl stumbling while learning to walk in high heels for the first time, her expression showing stubbornness and cuteness. Yet that tight calf curve was stunningly beautiful to the point of being heart-stirring.
"High heels are so hard to wear..." she pouted and complained.
"How could they be..." Fujiwara Reya stood up, supporting her to sit down, "Madam’s calves are so slender, the curve of your bottom so pronounced, perfect for wearing high heels. If you wore boots, the calf’s curve would be obscured. If you wore flat shoes, it wouldn’t showcase your stance, and the lines of your rear wouldn’t be displayed. This outfit now can only be described as perfect!"
Kawashima Miki’s eyelid twitched: "Not lying to me?"
"Of course not!" Fujiwara Reya replied, incidentally resting her legs on his lap, gently taking off her high heels, lightly massaging her ankles, "If you feel tired, you can wear them a little less."
His voice warmer than ever.
At least, in Kawashima Miki’s memory, it was the first time he was so gentle with her.
It seems he’s indeed not as tough with his own people... Kawashima Miki’s eyes shone with a hint of slyness, under the candlelight’s reflection, she slightly bit her lower lip, shy, yet charmingly murmured, "Mr. Fujiwara..."
Fujiwara Reya turned his head to look.
In the flickering pale red candlelight, she smiled softly and movingly, met with the fiery gaze of the little devil, she elegantly moved her hand behind her head, and gently pulled.
The jet-black long hair silently cascaded down, instantly enveloping him like a web.
This moment’s overwhelming allure almost made Fujiwara Reya think she intended to offer herself up right then.