[Sorry, sorry, this article was originally about the real young master attacking the fake young master, but I felt it was too sadistic and couldn't write it anymore, so I changed it to this idea. I'm really sorry]
That kind of romantic, sinister, paranoid, lunatic and controlling handsome guy Shou (pure 0, mine never does 1). He is super handsome when wearing a suit and has thin muscles. Because he is a young man, he is cynical and has a bad temper. He never takes anyone seriously and does things purely according to his heart. He pursues excitement and finds everything boring.
There are many younger brothers around him who support him, and the friends of the same class he makes all want to win his favor. He is a super invincible heartthrob.
I want to write about his honey-colored muscles at the collar of his suit under the dim light. He unbuttons two buttons casually, raises a glass of wine and sips it carelessly, then raises his eyes to look at you. Although his eyes are cold, it makes people feel that he is seducing you. (PS: I really hate boys who drink in today's life. Drinking is really harmful to your health, but the way you look when you drink is really handsome)
If you act a little rudely and accidentally bite his lip, he won't frown. He will just say "tsk" and then grab the back of your head and smash you to the side. If he is very unhappy, he will pour the wine in his hand on your head and walk out of your house with his coat in a mess.
In the morning, when he was still asleep, you couldn't help but harass him and look at his face and body like a maniac. When he woke up, he met your crazy eyes, pushed your head away, gave you a deep kiss casually and expertly, coaxingly, and then lowered his head to order takeout on his phone. The exposed muscles were all bitten by you.
You tell him no, you've already cooked.
He got up and put on his clothes, looked in the mirror, raised his eyebrows at you and said that your teeth are good, but they need to be polished. You couldn't help but hug his waist from behind when he was putting on his shirt. He didn't dislike your sticky energy, so he spread his hands and let you dress him and tie him.
In the evening, you asked about him going to the racing track. You searched around the auditorium but couldn't find him. Then you saw the fastest and craziest car crossing the finish line half a lap ahead of the other cars. Then you saw the racing driver getting out of the car. Those long and powerful legs and beautiful figure were him. He took the head The people around him came up to congratulate him. He lazily raised his eyelids and didn't have much reaction. He just pulled on his racing suit to get some air. He lowered his eyes and walked out of the crowd with his helmet in one hand. It was as if winning a game so crazy and almost dying was not important to him.
When you went to dinner in the evening, he was wearing a black shirt, his beautiful back was a little messy, and he poured you a glass of red wine in a gentlemanly manner, swaying the glass with his slender fingers. After eating, he sat on a chair on the hotel balcony to handle official business, with his bangs hanging down slightly covering his serious eyes.
His eyes are beautiful and affectionate, but he has never really loved anyone.
Everyone loves him, he only loves himself, maybe he loves no one, not even himself.
In fact, many people are his dogs, such as his mortal enemy (whom he hates deeply but also loves deeply, his ex-husband whom he once dated), the little star he supported (now a big star), his follower leader (who is also a drug addict and the leader of his fan group), the classmates he played with when he was studying abroad... But no one can win his long-term stay.
Intention: Unsure
