It uh…looks expensive,” said X, “any chance I can repay the favor and buy you a new one?” The girl only looked down, shook her head, and chuckled. I’ll get myself a new one in the Mercado tomorrow.” “Seriously?Can’t say I’ve ever had a naughty with a bigshot before.Let’s be real, though; the post-coitus talk’s gonna get pretty awkward unless I can call you something.” “Fine then,” he chuckled, “just call me ‘Mister X’ for now.” “Alright then…Mister Eggs,” She snorted. X said, squinting in confusion and waving his hands, taken aback, “I said ‘X’, as in the letter X, not eggs.” “Okay, this might be the wine you brought from that Tapas bar we met in talking, but I like the name ‘Eggs’ better.” “Oh, shut up,” X smiled.“Oh…damn…I uh…” X stammered, looking back to the bedroom.
“Shit,” the girl swore, her eyes widening, her arms falling in dismay, “I just bought that dress.” “I guess we should have turned it down a notch, eh?
“It so is.” “I can ask room service to have you removed, you know.” Claire cracked up again. X was happy he got to hear that laugh again, even if it was mocking him.
“Seriously, though,” continued X, “what the hell do you even do for a living anyway?
” Claire dismounted the bed from the side and strode over to X, her hips swaying proactively, a wordless, teasing grin across her face.
She moved around the couch, past the coffee table to the twin couch across from it before sitting down and stretching her body out upon the furniture like a model waiting for an artist to immortalize her on canvas.