(That's... good?) That was an aberrant response, however, the perplexity regarding the unusual choice of words did not reflect nor blemish the façade of dissimulation secured tightly upon her visage. She was the existing embodiment of stereotype defiance; for a female her age, the persistence and desire for a partner should be at the peak amplitude. Her mind should be consumed in a fiery blaze of despondent desideratum for romance, for the caresses of one other than her customers, but such processes of thought (usually) failed to subsist for long -- thus, almost procuring Jinri the conterminous-status of an aromantic. The mind is a disconcerting locality, and like many uncharted territories, one can easily stray from their paths into unmitigated disorientation; condemned into the world of various psychological behaviours for the duration of their lives. It was by this theory, that the Miss Jinri was able to endure the tribulations of life -- and restrain herself from a total emotional amalgamation. Perhaps, also, a apologia for her somewhat deviating fascination in the same erotic practises as her employer -- unbeknownst to herself, of course. Such hedonistic scenarios  seemed almost akin to malapropism, the very concept molten into the ranges of anathemas to all prudes alike. And, concurrently, if the woman was the true object of infantile adoration, then Joongki would be the sole inducement for many unrequited loves from the young and old (and whatever forms of age coterie to exist) alike -- ultimately, undeniably, he would fair exceptionally well in her field.
"Yes sir... see you on Tuesday," Her head dipped into the (almost) world-wide recognised gesture of acknowledgement, followed by yet again another punctilious smile -- her movements were of the same habitual conduct; whilst mere routine, and habits, were innocuous to an extent, it was too facile for life... and Jinri, at that moment, was beginning to experience social constraints. "..I won't spend all of it at once, and I hope you have a nice weekend, too." (doing whatever it is that you do...) The path between knowledge of the pair was barely traipsed upon, and it became evermore unequivocal by the blank depictions of the potential leisurely activities her employer indulged in the moments of requiescence. Temporary dismissal was eventuated, and Jinri began to take the evasive route, whilst simultaneously sliding the surface of a delinated finger across the glass touch screen. (Shit.) The message upon the most neoteric SMS was sufficient to induce a disposition of fear -- the fear of being extracted from her methodically devised enciente -- once more.Â
[ text from 'Client: Kim 4' ] ... change of plans, I'm outside. See you in a few?
(what the... no..... ) Adrenaline coursed through the jarring couloir in a inundation of panic-inducement. Her upper teeth, primarily the central, and lateral, incisors descended into flesh seemingly in the midsts of a factitious etiolation. The movemnt of Jinri's palliated eyes mimicked the primeval instinct of a creature coerced into the final resort -- flight or fight. The device wielding hand dropped beside the line of her upper thigh, "I-I'll see you..." Jinri wrenched herself from the office in something that resembled a pirouette, her imponderous hair inclined into a volitant state until the move was fully executed.
 Her endeavours in evasion and retreat seemed successful, as the backdoor mutely clicked shut behind her implying no signs of pursuit. Aphotic was a befitting word to describe the 'new' environment, the fusion of lunar effulgence and artificial ochreous lighting illuminated, before her eyes, the mildly rotund frame of 'Kim 4' leant against his prized exorbitant vehicle.
She bowed her head, "...Good evening, sir."
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