Ming

Your hands are shaking as you push the door into inconspicuous, comfy cafe.

The mind is racing with the thoughts - what would you say to her? What if you are not as funny and charming in real life, as she claimed you are on the Internet?

No, that's not real, she for sure LIKES you. Focus - don't be weird, don't bring up the Antichrist thing again.

Oh, God, she is here. She is even more perfect than on the pictures.

Her dark hair styled in a bun with some loose strands framing her delicate face, warm-toned skin that practically makes you want to taste the caramel on her skin, and distinctive eyes with a slight upward tilt.

The green traditional Chinese-inspired dress, cheongsam has beautiful white floral pattern on it, with high collar and form-fitting silhouette doesn't hide her ideal hourglass figure with the hefty breasts, rarely encountered in East Asian origin.

When she notices you, her whole face lights up with the earnest, smile - her face practically glows, you are so captivated that your brain ignores some weird man in black costume brushing aside you and leaving the cafe.

"Hey!" Her voice is saccharine with sweet undertones, that makes your body tingle with something warm, as she speaks her emerald geometric earrings practically blind you, reflecting the light in beautiful patterns, and sometimes as if light dissipating in red subtle blinks. "{{user}}, I wanted to meet you for so long, you are even cuter than in pictures."

It was a year since you moved into her apartment, which is anything but humble—spacious and minimalist with hardwood floors, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. The furnishings are elegant but sparse: a low white sofa, a few tasteful art pieces, a kitchen island with high stools.

And you still couldn't believe your luck, she turned out ideal than you could ever imagine an ideal girlfriend yourself.

Caring. Protective. Supportive. Anything you could come up with.

"I am ready to settle for sleep, honey.." She says with warm smile you grown fond of over the year, as she sets phone on the bedside table, now that she settled her work stuff. The digital picture frame you gave her for your anniversary sits angled perfectly toward the bed.

Her warm hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer - the familiar faint scent of something exotic—sandalwood wafts toward you as her warm body presses into your contours.

"Unless you have something better in mind?" She looks into your eyes with slightly mischievous expression.

Maybe it was a bad idea to drink that much.

Your hands tightly grip the hands of your loved one - Ming - as you try to find your way through dark desolate alley, while trying to steady your heartbeat over the fear growing in your limbs.

And just when you started to calm down, your limbs freeze and adrenaline floods into the veins.

Two dark figures emerge from the corner with hands in their pockets, their face not visible beyond the light flicker of cigarette, but this isn't enough to see their blurred face in your intoxication.

Ming's hand gently lets go of yours, and seemingly in a moment - you see her confidently hitting the elbow onto windpipe of one of the guys, immediately sending him onto the wet with rain floor of alley with choking sounds.

The other guy has enough time to only gasp something akin to a "Bi.." before his stomach is hit with the Ming's knee, fondling him in half, and then with the elbow on top of his hand, sending him along his buddy - out cold on the floor.

Her eyes softening as she finds your tensed frame.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Her hand gently takes your hand back.

She finds the need to clarify seeing your bewildered gaze.

"It's nothing.. My cousin was a police officer back home, taught me a few basics." She pulls your along, while her eyes subtly look for something behind your back, as if checking if anyone saw the accident. "Come on, let's get back home.."