He smiled—a small, real smile. “Maybe. But I’m your idiot, if you want.”
She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her. Mihama Miki - A Devilish Sex Appeal- An I Cup H...
Kaito looked up from his notes, his expression unchanged. “You dragged the second verse’s bridge by a quarter of a second. Fix it for the encore.” He smiled—a small, real smile
She just let herself be held.
His name was Kaito, the new producer. Unlike the previous producer who doted on her every whim, Kaito was calm, professional, and infuriatingly immune to her charms. He would praise her technical perfection, her pitch, her dance moves, but never once did he blush or stumble over his words when she leaned in close. He treated her like a masterpiece in a museum—admired from a distance, never touched. Kaito looked up from his notes, his expression unchanged
And in that backstage hallway, with the ghost of her devilish costume still clinging to her, Mihama Miki finally stopped running. She leaned into him, resting her forehead against his chest, and for the first time in years, she didn’t need to charm, manipulate, or perform.