Arianne could not answer Davy. Instead, she haphazardly waved her hands in dismissal.
When Mark noticed how unsteady her steps were and how she held onto the door frame, he dropped the papers in his hand and rushed forward, catching her.
“Who made you drink, Ari? Don’t you know your limits?” he reproved.
Arianne threw herself onto his chest and writhed against it. “T-There was a company hangout, and um, I couldn’t be absent, and I drank a bit, b-b-but I’m feeling really, really off right now. It’s not the usual, wasted sort of off. It’s just… uh, weird…”
Mark frowned and felt her slightly feverish forehead. A pang came to him, and he asked, “Did you come here alone?”
“I h-h-hailed a cab, but I can’t endure this until I reach home, I just can’t,” she slurred under her breath. “So I came to your office, and God, why is it so hot in here? Your AC is too high…”
She swung her bag across the floor and began to pull her blouse apart, baring a pair of delicate cheekbones and her snowy-fair skin.
It was all Mark needed to see to gain a good grasp of what was happening. He could even guess how it happened—someone had undoubtedly laced Arianne’s drink with a drug!
It was a terrifying thought, one that made him feel guilty. He should not have skipped out on driving her home personally just because he was busy. Were anything to have happened to her—Mark could not finish the thought
“Uh-hem,” Mark said hesitantly. “Are you, uh, in the mood…?”
Arianne still had one last shred of sobriety left in her to understand him, which caused her already feverish-pink cheeks to deepen into crimson. “Y-Yes. Uh, this is so embarrassing…”
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