01-28-2024, 11:41 PM
Zixin was thoroughly enjoying himself at the Vasiliev’s party. He had already drank two champagnes and was at present time sharing a riotous story about a party gone awry back home. It was a natural segue, as he was the only Asian in view as far as he could tell, and the Russian sonsofbitches were really fucking racist. So everyone asked if he was Chinese, and while he could trace his ancestors to China, their blood thinned before the days of the Dutch East India Company, and he was altogether his own, now: Singaporean.
On the throes of undoubtedly fake laughter, which Zixin accepted as if it was the genuine thing, he spied his date for the night. He’d kept a sharp eye out for any of the family whose name they were here to celebrate, especially — shit, what was his name? Gloves guy? He laughed to himself for the momentary lapse. Pavel He suddenly recalled out of no where. Hilarious.
Which was when he found his date. He eyed the man that Sofia was speaking with as he slipped into their group. He recognized Daniil Myshelov as someone on his to-do list to employ.
Sofia showed far more skin tonight than she had the last time they met. She was as beautiful as a king cobra, but Zixin was mildly surprised when she invited him. That reminded him, he should really show off his prized collection sometime. Perhaps their next date? It seemed they had a spark after all.
He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek in greeting as was the Russian custom.
She might be surprised that there was nothing creepy in his embrace, unlike his companion from the bridge, for he saw more than flesh in her. Though he was almost surprised the Russians didn’t stomp their feet, flash their asses, and spit like primates when greeting one another. He smirked, feeling like a prince among macaques at her. Undoubtedly, there was a woman, but he also saw an enemy, and if they fucked between now and sunrise, she would find the kind a pleasure that she’d never known before, but he’d still not so much as turn his back on her.
“Sofia, won’t you introduce your friends to your date?” The animals might have peed all over her shoes, but Zixin flashed a smug smile instead.
On the throes of undoubtedly fake laughter, which Zixin accepted as if it was the genuine thing, he spied his date for the night. He’d kept a sharp eye out for any of the family whose name they were here to celebrate, especially — shit, what was his name? Gloves guy? He laughed to himself for the momentary lapse. Pavel He suddenly recalled out of no where. Hilarious.
Which was when he found his date. He eyed the man that Sofia was speaking with as he slipped into their group. He recognized Daniil Myshelov as someone on his to-do list to employ.
Sofia showed far more skin tonight than she had the last time they met. She was as beautiful as a king cobra, but Zixin was mildly surprised when she invited him. That reminded him, he should really show off his prized collection sometime. Perhaps their next date? It seemed they had a spark after all.
He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek in greeting as was the Russian custom.
She might be surprised that there was nothing creepy in his embrace, unlike his companion from the bridge, for he saw more than flesh in her. Though he was almost surprised the Russians didn’t stomp their feet, flash their asses, and spit like primates when greeting one another. He smirked, feeling like a prince among macaques at her. Undoubtedly, there was a woman, but he also saw an enemy, and if they fucked between now and sunrise, she would find the kind a pleasure that she’d never known before, but he’d still not so much as turn his back on her.
“Sofia, won’t you introduce your friends to your date?” The animals might have peed all over her shoes, but Zixin flashed a smug smile instead.