Chris!?

"Yes, *Master*."

His hand froze in the air as she muttered, ever so shy.

She is cute, so sexy that if any man heard her say that, they might do things only an unholy evil can.

But for Wayn, it seemed to be different.

Not that he did not want this—not that he didn't like it.

Wayn felt his skin shudder as his trembling hand didn't make it to her skin.

He wondered why that made him stop.

He wondered why… Jules reminded of her.

"Master?"

His eyes averted up.

With pink cheeks, her head hung low nervously while she bit her lip.

—*Right*.

His jaw clenched as his eyes didn't dare get off of the woman in front of his eyes.

—*Master*....

"**Master**?"

Rather than sounding like a question, it sounded different for Wayn's ears.

Her tongue clicked as a garnishing for the words she spat in disbelief.

"Tina-"

"Wayn, are you in your right mind—oh my god this is fucking sick."

His eyes widened when it echoed, barely a whisper it was.

His hands gripped his shirt tighter as he sat on the bed, watching her as she threw her shirt on, turning around after.

Getting off of the bed, he slowly looked up at her, hoping to see a soft woman in front of her but Tina only stood stiff, with her head high.

"What's so sick about…"

Words left his mouth as he half-heartedly stepped forward but her scoff stopped him from taking any step further than that.

"Are you seriously telling me that you like these!? Wayn! I'm your girlfriend–"

"No, Tina, listen to me-"

"You think I'm dating you because of your dick!?"

Tina gasped as she folded her arms, argumentatively leaning over his body, pushing him further back.

"Tina! No- I… i…."

"You're so sick, you know that?"

His eyes widened as her hand fell over his shoulder, while she whispered enough for him to hear.

"N..no I-"

"Want to be a master, just be a man—why is that so hard?"

Master…

"Chris!"

—gasp!

Wayn flinched when he felt warmth against his cheeks.

Her eyes are now looking directly into his as she leaned forward.

His eyes took a glance over the warmth on his cheeks—her soft hands, held his face ever so delicately.

He flinched when warm tears slipped down his cheeks before Jule's eyes widened.

Her lips parted but watching his hands tremble as they hesitantly moved away from her skin, Jule didn't know what to say.

In the end, she decided to stare at him, his eyes that didn't seem to have control over the amount of tears.

Jule thought Wayn might have been upset, upset of her since she wasn't loud enough but now that she turned to see why he's not responding, she found him trembling, stepping back as his body seemed to be frozen like a stone.

Wayn felt her fingers gently wipe the tears off his cheek before his eyes averted to meet hers.

A slightest flinch, it was still noticed by Jule.

A hold of her wrist, he took her hands off his cheeks, pushing them away.

"I need to go."

She frowned as he spoke, rushing towards the door.

Her heart seemed to be racing at this point, as she watched him open the door before her hand took a hold of his arm.

"I don't…need these. Is that okay?"

He didn't look back at her and swiftly left, leaving her standing there with her eyes still stuck to the door.

*Sigh*

"He left."

Her lips moved but the words she spoke weren't for her ears, as she collapsed on the floor.

Tears formed in her eyes as her chest raised while she struggled to inhale before a heavy exhale left her lips.

Her eyes blinked vigorously as her hands fisted the dress she wore, which didn't even reach her thighs.

Looking up, her reflection on the cupboard's mirror door made her look away.

"It's okay, it's not you. It's not."

She breathed out as she forced her eyes to not look back.

"It's not you, Jule. It's not you."

She has to repeat that—in order to not lose her mind as she leaned against the cupboards, hugging her knees.

. . . . . . . .

"What do you do when a customer wants to return the product? Of course! You must check the product first,"

The professor exclaimed while the heavy sighs echoed from the side of students, who are very much aware of how out-of-syllabus that matter was.

Everyone is slowly getting down to the semester syllabus but Jule sat there with her finger hovering over the pen, clicking it while thoughts consumed her mind as whole.

A blink after another, her mind seemed to focus on nothing.

*How long has it been*—*a month by now*?

*And what*? *He hasn't contacted you since*?

"Well, well, well, who are waiting for the results of the semester now?"

The professor laughed as he leaned over the chair, chitchatting with the students.

Jule took a glance over the watch on her wrist—3 o'clock.

She bit her lip.

*Should I*?

Her eyes nervously averted to her lap.

*Should I not*?

**Bell rings**

"Well, that's it for today!"

The professor sighed as he stood up, ready to leave when Jule stood up, rushing towards the door.

"Oh- uh, you can leave the class-"

Jule walked out of the class while her phone began to ring aloud.

Her heartbeat rise up as she took out her phone, expecting to see a familiar name upon the screen.

She did see a familiar name but, sadly, it was Dr. Yan.

After sighing heavily in disappointment, she answered the call.

"Yes, Dr. Yan,"

"Ah! Jule, we received the bills. The treatment has improved your mom's health."

Jule couldn't help but frown, even though her heart chirped at the fact that her mom is now slowly getting healthy.

"Bills..?"

Jule immediately paused on her steps, while her shoulder felt being bumped with the other students who rushed out of the class.

Dr. Yan looked up from the coffee cup he held before squinting his eyes.

"Yes, we received the bills today, for your mom's treatment. Wasn't it you who sent it? Wait a second,"

Jule nervously looked around before her steps resumed.

Dr. Yan opened his laptop, clicking on the recent bills before his eyes fell on the name of the payee.

"It was in the name of you?"

Dr. Yan doubtedly confirmed.

Jule bit her lip, opening her locker.

Her eyes averted from the floor to her locker before her body froze.

Her fingers took the hold of the stick note on the locker before she pulled it off from the door.

*See you at my place*.

She lowered her eyes to see the name written on the corner.

" — Chris."

Barely a whisper left her lips, before her eyes nervously averted up to read the words again.

"What is..*that*?"

Her eyes widened as someone snatched it from her hand.

Turning around, she found the nightmare of her life standing infront of her.

"Damien-"

Damien stood there, still and stiff and his hands began to tremble at the name his eyes froze upon.

*Chris*?

His eyes darkened before he looked up from the note.

"—Isn't he fucking ***dead***?"