Naughty Baby Girl

Discovery

“So…?” Hugh side-glanced at Hunter, suggestively whistling a low, awkward note. They were back inside the car. Hunter had been silent throughout the ride. 

Was he disappointed? Did Hugh not advertise the amusement enough? Whatever was on his mind, Hugh had no way of knowing, no matter they were twins and all that telepathic bullshit. Hugh scooted closer, if Hunter turned to give him his attention, means Hunter is upset. If Hunter did not turn to give him his attention, means Hunter is neutral. 

Which one? Let’s bet.

“Which one caught your eyes?”

“…” Silentness, cheek rested on his fist, eyeing out the window and its blurry city. Well deserved, Hugh thought. But, Hugh had a smirk creeping on his face when he noticed Hunter inhaling to speak. “Leena Choi,” he named without a moment of hesitation.

Leena Choi? Ah, Hugh had to think for a good minute. The girl with G-cup-sized boobs, short chestnut locks, and red succulent lips. Fair and fetching. 

To say Hugh was surprised was an overstatement, to hear his brother had a type such as that. The goody-two-shoes, eh? 

Hunter’s a hypocrite, he was the most reluctant to experiment with this ordeal. Out of all the girls, how come? To Hugh’s knowledge, Hunter had always despised women like Leena Choi, in fact, Hugh handpicked her for her breasts. That was the first thing he noticed on her, anyway. 

"Hmm..." Hugh sang, stroking his chin. If anything, it should be women like Ellie Manwood, or Valerie Hazel to shine. They’re more suitable to be in Oblonsky’s field of interest. Was Hunter jesting?

No, there were no strains on his stern, facial muscles. Hugh knew Hunter wasn’t jesting to spite him as they would usually do. As if his answer was final, Hugh was— beyond surprised!

Oh my god! What in the world was going on?! Hugh just realized that Hunter barely remembered anybody’s names, well, Hunter can remember since he’s had a photographic memory. It was more like he doesn’t want to remember, they were never worth his time. 

Leena Choi. Her presence felt fake, invisible, monotony, and old-fashion. She was boring for a legal citizen, she felt like every prostitute from Villareal Hugh had slept with, anybody had slept with. Maybe Hunter found her attractive for the sense of similarity? As prostitutes had been the only characteristics Hunter was accustomed to? 

"Similarity", huh? Should that appear to be the mentality of Hunter?

Hugh longed to ask so, so much. It was irking him. Hugh opened his mouth, but— 

“I think I’ll have to occupy her for quite some time. As for the meanwhile, you are free to have the rest, Hugh.” Hunter informed bluntly. Hugh zipped his mouth. What in the what?! 

‘You are free to have the rest’? As if ‘the rest’ are merely wastes? In the defense of Ellie and Valerie, they were, by far, the most intriguing women Hugh had ever met! Hunter did not even bother to litter their names with his tongue, huh.

Rude. Rude!

Indeed, peculiarly rude. Leena Choi, huh. Hugh had a feeling he will be keeping his eyes on her. 

Hugh clenched his jaw, irked, yet submitting to his brother. “I will arrange the suite, and send the girls the address.” Through gritted teeth, he sat back, the aftertaste of the words he said perturbed him greatly. 

When someone asks Hunter something, and he answers, and his answers end quicker than anticipated, it means he concludes his statement and the questioner must move on. Be it the questioner is his twin brother. 

Whoever does not know this fact shall be punished severely. Or else.

Hugh cannot tolerate this immense curiosity. He hated being left in the dark, by Hunter of all people. It made him want to do immature things. 

 ⥎

( 2 HOURS AGO )

After an hour of chitchatting with these intriguing, unique women, Hugh discovered himself feeling quite giddy. Whether positively or negatively, he couldn’t be certain. 

And scene, whilst Hugh was laughing with the giggling women, Hunter excused himself to the restroom. Hugh was too preoccupied. 

The high-rise in of itself was quite exquisite, luxurious. As he exited the lounge to the corridor, the antiqued ambiance reaped a nuanced sense down Hunter’s lane. There weren’t a lot of people, it was despondent. Hunter seeped in a huge breath, and walked into the male’s restroom, the male restroom being as exquisite and luxurious, and was despondent, too. 

In front of the running faucet, Hunter spaced out and washed his hands vigorously as if there was something on them that wouldn’t come off no matter how many times he washed. He went on for a minute. 

Then he stopped and fished out a small transparent tube from his inner jacket, the tube rattling like a bottle of pills. He shook one out and swallowed it, and calmly exited the restroom as if nothing happened.

Strange.

Very, very strange. 

There was nothing in his hands, why did it wash them so vigorously? 

And those pills, those were tranquilizers. Drugs.

What on earth for? 

It appeared Hugh had no idea about this.

As Hunter was halfway with returning to the lounge, where he must take his leave whereas the time for the meeting was ending and he escaped in the midst of the farewell ceremony. 

As if he was counting the time in his head. 

How anti-social can he be? 

Hunter was about to reel to his left, interestingly, he paused when he discerned hasty footsteps of a woman’s heels, echoing through the corridor. Passing by him and not seeing him in the dark of the restroom’s outtrance, it was her, the Asian woman with the chestnut hair. Hunter was about to journey right past her—

“Mrs. Choi, please wait!” It seemed the host, what was her name? June Something? June was chasing after her. Leena must be in a hurry. Leena halted, not turning around.

“Yes?” She curtly replied as if she had been caught shoplifting and was desperately trying to not show her face. Even so, based on what Hunter could see from afar, Leena’s expression was— of a professional level of tranquillity. 

Impressive.

Hunter waited for them to go, it was only polite. But, they did not. They were stalling there. 

June was preparing herself into a decent posture, no longer chasing, standing there neatly in her heels and a pencil skirt, and her neat bun. “About your infertility, Mrs. Choi, why did you not mention such a vital part to the Oblonsky twins?”

Oh? Hunter jerked an eyebrow, engrossed.

“Pardon me?” Leena finally turned over her shoulders, expression the same. Apathetic, composed.

“Your infertility, ma’am.”

“Can’t it be kept a secret?” Of course, it can. Oddly though, why would you? When you can tell the men who will be f*****g you that you can never get pregnant, why would you? 

“I am afraid secrets are not allowed in the contract.” June had some expressions on her face, as for Leena, like a robot, she did not find June’s questions at all concerning.

“What if I tell them, just not now?”

“That is allowed,” June said. Taking it as her cue to go, Leena bowed her head a tad bit, an Asian habit, perhaps. Bidding her farewell and trotting in the other direction. “Why is it that you wish to not tell them?” Nosy, but appropriate. 

“Because it would be funny if they thought they got me pregnant, and it turns out I’m not and never will be?” Leena giggled, like one would giggle to their own joke, albeit its darkness.

What broke Leena to be so doll-like? Why had it not crossed Hunter’s mind, in that lounge with her for hours on end, how unconventionally regulated and doll-like Leena was. Her impression did not feel real, it was ethereal, so she was easily snubbed in the corner of one’s focus. Hunter was the type to withhold any detail no matter how small.

Therefore, what went wrong? How had Leena Choi get snubbed to the corner of his focus?

“…” June fell silent.

Hunter fell silent, as well.

“Mrs. Choi, I do not believe that is funny.”

“It’s not?” How twisted and unhinged, the gradual smile at the corner of her lips being driven by perplexity and disappointment, scowling after being rejected of her humor.

Leena was unaware of how creepy she sounded, humoring her infertility like that. It was almost as if she was proud of it. Or, if Hunter wished to assess it more ethereally: Leena was too far gone to even depart between normality and abnormality.

Hunter felt a sense of similarity upon eavesdropping on Leena’s conversation, a f****d up kind of similarity. It popped a bitter taste on his tongue, and he fancied it, fancied how Leena Choi, whoever the f**k she was, had the audacity to end up so remote.

He hadn’t an ounce of why his fruition advised him to explore more of her, but it did, and he decided to listen to it. This was about fun, after all.

Why shouldn’t he break her? Break her by welcoming her to a new concept of abnormality.

Let’s see if there are any unbounded limits to her doll-like persona.

Thank you, Hugh. Hunter had found his new plaything.