She scoffed. "Nice try. But you lack the basic common sense needed to pull off a decent joke."
He raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think I lack common sense?"
"How could anyone believe that someone young and coo—no, someone like you—is the director of this entire institution?"
She sat down despite the complaint, since he kept gesturing for her to.
He leaned casually against the desk. "What do you think a director should look like?"
"Someone old. With a belly. And bald."
He laughed, then slid open a shelf in the desk. He pulled out a folded newspaper and a triangular glass prism. Sitting on the desk edge, he said,"Director of the Wisdom Educational Society, Arthur."
He placed the prism on the desk. It gleamed softly, engraved with Director – Arthur. Then he handed her the newspaper.
It looked ordinary enough except for the front page, which showed a large photograph of him beside a picture of the main entrance gate. Below them was the headline:"The New Director of the Wisdom Educational Society – Arthur."
She froze.
He leaned in and gently blew on her forehead, as if nudging her out of her trance. She raised her gaze to him, and he locked eyes with her."Do you believe it now?"
She didn't answer. She couldn't.
He plucked the newspaper from her hands and sat back, muttering while staring at his picture, "I should've posed differently. I don't look cool in this…"
A moment later, she snapped out of it."Are you really the director here?"
He nodded.
"Are your parents or grandparents founders of this society?"
He chuckled. "Do you think I earned this through hierarchy?"
She nodded honestly.
"No. My parents were teachers in a small school. As for my grandparents—I barely knew them. They died when I was young."
She still looked unsure, so he added, "I bought this place with my own money. Any more doubts?"
Her confusion only deepened. He tilted his head."Why must a director be an old man with a belly and a bald head?"
She lowered her eyes."It was immature of me…"
He leaned closer—so close that his nose almost brushed hers—and whispered,"In this world, nothing is impossible."
Her breath hitched. Looking into his confident, striking eyes from such a short distance made her cheeks turn warm.
After a moment, he moved back and seated himself properly."It's bad manners to ask someone's name before introducing yourself. So let me introduce again. My name is Arthur."
She inhaled slowly to steady herself. "My name is Isha."
He smiled, tilting his head slightly. "I assumed it would be Angel. Especially when I saw you standing in the road looking lost."
She instantly snapped back into her rude persona. "Who are you calling lost!?"
"You looked like an Angel who lost her way to paradise," he replied smoothly, the words rolling from his tongue as if he had practiced them just for her.
Her face brightened before she could stop it, a tiny spark of pleasure, quick as lightning, but she crushed it under her usual attitude in the very next breath.
"I even muttered, 'lost Angel,'" he added lightly, as if confessing a harmless secret.
She smirked. "Then why did I see your lips saying 'hot chick'?"
Without breaking eye contact, he replied,"That is what we call an Angel from where I come from. Is it wrong to call a woman as sexy as you a hot chick?"
She gave a tiny, involuntary smile. "You have a way with words."
He smiled briefly, then rose from his seat."Now, tell me why you were looking for the administration office."
She replied calmly, "To apply for the primary school."
He blinked. "Your qualifications?"
His eyes sparkled and in an enthusiastic voice he said, "There will be no objection to your joining. Most likely, you only need to submit your original documents to the administration staff and you can start right away."
He leaned forward, close enough for her to feel his breath, and asked, "So tell me. When are you going to join? Next week, tomorrow, today? Joining right now is also an option."
She smiled faintly. "Don't you think you're in a hurry?"
He replied, "What man would let the chance slip of having an Angel working under him? More than that, if you join here, I will get to see the world's sexiest sculpture walk past me every day."
She rose slowly, meeting his gaze, and with a teasing grin asked, "How many women have you slept with?"
"That's a rude question to ask a man," he said. "And for your information, I don't sleep with women. I make love to them."
She tilted her head. "Then how many women have you made love to?"
He went quiet and began counting under his breath. "Leaving out women above fifty and students under seventeen, which is nearly half the female population here, and leaving the ones who were fat or ugly or not sexy, and the ones I hated, and the ones who… no, I cannot remember more." He paused, thoughtful. "But approximately, I have made love to more than a thousand women. And another two hundred or more from before I became director."
She laughed softly. "Is it the director's job to spread love?"
"No. The director spreads education and knowledge. It is my job as a man to spread love."
Still smiling, she said, "It is hard to believe a man has been with more than a thousand women. But for some reason, I feel like you're telling the truth."
He grinned and asked again, "Then when are you joining?"
She replied with a sharp edge, "Joining the school? Or joining the count of women you made lo—" She stopped speaking when he suddenly wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her toward him without rising from the desk.
Holding her tightly and staring into her eyes, he murmured, "Shouldn't you join right away?"
With a smirk, she answered, "Not possible now. I admitted my son into another school two weeks ago. Maybe next year."
His expression froze. "Son?"
"Yes. My son, Obero. He is in third grade now."
His arm dropped from her waist, and he stood up slowly.
In a faint voice he asked, "You were searching for the administration office to admit your son into primary school? Not for you to join as a teacher?"
She nodded.
Seeing his stunned face, she teased, "Does the great love spreader dislike married women? Or he is just words and nothing more?"
He lowered his gaze. "It's just… I have never misjudged a woman before."
Then he lifted his head again. His smirk returned. "Do you think the women I have been with were single? Or not in relationships?"
She fell silent.
He continued, "Most of them were happily married or deeply committed."
He stepped closer, still smirking, and while she tried to guess his next move, he shoved her onto the desk. The newspaper and nameplate fell to the floor with a sharp clatter.
Before she fully returned to her senses, she felt his hands on her, one sliding boldly along her thigh, the other tracing the curves of her body with a confidence that made her breath catch. His touch was deliberate, reading her reactions, learning the rhythm of her breaths.
Her lips parted, a soft sound escaping her before she could stop it.
And just when she leaned into him, he abruptly stepped back. She still looked dazed, almost displeased by the sudden distance.
She sat up quickly, trying to steady her breathing. "Why did you stop?" she demanded, her voice trembling between annoyance and longing.
Arthur tilted his head. "Do you still think I am nothing but words?"
She rose and stepped toward him slowly. "Did my words hurt your pride?"
"No," he said calmly. "I was simply giving myself time to read you."
A faint, knowing smile curved her lips. "And what did you read?"
He put on a perfectly blank expression. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."
She let out a soft laugh and slid her hand to his waist, her fingers curling with intention. "Then tell me… will you stop again?"
"No," he replied, eyes locked with hers. "I only stopped guessing. Now you tell me. Soft or rough?"
She reached for the button of his pants and whispered, "Very rough. Make love to me as mu—"
Before she finished, he caught her by the wrist and pushed her back against the wall with a force that sent a shiver through her. She drew in a sharp breath, her lips parting.
He closed the distance in one swift motion, catching her mouth in a fierce kiss. Their lips moved with hunger, their breaths mingling. She felt his hands sliding beneath her clothes, not intrusive but purposeful, each movement matching the urgency in the kiss.
Then he paused again, breath warm against her cheek.
"What now—" she began, but the words died as he lifted her effortlessly. She wrapped her legs around him on instinct, holding him close. He kissed her again, deeper this time, and she tangled her fingers in his hair, overwhelmed by the surge of heat rushing through her.
The room blurred around them as their breaths intertwined, the edge between restraint and surrender vanishing completely.
----
Naked Arthur and Isha lay on the floor beside the bed, their bodies partially covered by a white blanket. Their breaths were still uneven, the air warm with the fading echo of what had just happened.
Arthur slowly rose first, climbing onto the bed and rolling to the other side as if gathering the pieces of himself. A second later, Isha jumped up after him and settled near his legs, still catching her breath.
Staring at him with a mix of amusement and disbelief, she asked, "So that story about… spreading your love to a thousand women, that wasn't a lie?"
Arthur stopped panting long enough to glance down at himself, then at her. "You are a tough woman," he muttered.
He leaned back against the headboard, legs stretched out, studying her with a faint, worn-out smile. "And you… look entirely unaffected again. At this rate, I might die trying to keep up with you."
She raised a brow. "Scared of dying during sex?"
He smiled the same faint smile. "Dying while doing something you are good at is not a bad death, is it? I might even prefer going with a naked woman beside me than dying alone somewhere."
She chuckled and crawled onto his lap, wrapping her legs around him with an easy, fearless familiarity.
Looking at her perched on him, he sighed. "I might love to die in this position, but I don't think I am ready to die today."
She brushed her fingers along his stomach with a teasing promise. "I will take care of it."
He exhaled, half laughing, half defeated. "My pride hurts to admit this, but everything down there feels numb. I cannot believe I lasted as long as I did."
She gave him a slow, mischievous look. "Hate to break it to you… but it hasn't even been two hours."
He craned his neck to check the wall clock.Quarter past two.
He laughed, shaking his head. "You are the toughest woman I have ever met. Two hours felt like an eternity."
She guided his face toward hers with both hands and murmured, "Now tell me, Director. What does a man whose job is to spread love do to please a disappointed hot chick?"
He raised a brow. "I tried everything that would impress any woman. You tell me what will impress you."
"Will you do anything?"
"Anything, as long as it doesn't involve money or… anything in the S and M category."
She snorted. "How did S and M even enter your mind?"
With a proud, confident expression he said, "Experience teaches you things you never imagine."
She smirked. "Your love may have disappointed me, but your words didn't."
He grinned softly.
She cupped his face, her gaze suddenly intense. "Then tell me the story. The story of the man who has slept with more women than he remembers. The man who bought an entire realm at this young age. The man surrounded by luxury, yet sleeps on the floor in front of the door. The man who has everything anyone could wish for… yet whose eyes look like they are crying from loneliness."
He looked taken aback, surprised she had seen that much.
After a moment, something clicked in his mind."Back when you were standing on the stairs… were you checking the pillow hidden under the sofas?"
"Yes," she answered simply.
Arthur burst into loud laughter, his body shaking.
She clung to his shoulders. "Do not move too much!"
"Why not?"
"It has been a long time since I absorbed feelings from a man. I got carried away and drained everything from you. I am giving it back now. Otherwise you will fall asleep halfway through your story."
He blinked at her. "What does that even mean?"
She tilted her head. "You don't know the myth behind the beginning of sex?"
He looked even more confused.
She continued, "According to the myth, when humans were first created, they had no way of speaking. They communicated by touch. And in one of those attempts to communicate, they experienced sex for the first time. But sex back then wasn't just physical. Through touch, they shared emotions, memories, even pieces of their life source. They could even create a clone of themselves through it. Over time, the reproduction part overshadowed the communication part, and the true meaning was forgotten."
He frowned thoughtfully. "What about other animals who also reproduce through sex?"
She smiled. "This is a human myth. If it were written by animals, it would be a different story."
He offered a thin smirk. "You also have a way with words."
"Not exactly. I am life. Everything related to life. So I know the beginning of it."
She glanced down and, noticing his sudden return of energy, murmured, "That is enough for now," then moved off his lap and sat beside him.
"I have two hours before I need to pick up my son," she said. "So enough about me. Tell me about yourself. Everything you remember from the beginning."
Arthur sighed, rubbing his temples. "My pride is on the line here. Fine. I will tell it from the start."
Immediately, she reached down, picked up the blanket from the floor, and draped it over both their naked bodies, settling beside him with a calm that felt strangely intimate.
"Now you can start telling your tale," she said softly.
Arthur gave a small, crooked smile and nodded.
He took a slow breath, leaned back against the headboard, and finally began.
"Then I will start from the very beginning…"