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Chapter 8 - Flames of Jealousy

Yan Yan's heart fumed with jealousy. The sight before him—a smiling Tang Qing, her calm demeanor reserved for someone else—stirred emotions. Zhao Zilong, the renowned artist and Yan Yan's close friend, stood at the center of it all. His presence was like a masterpiece, each stroke deliberate and priceless.

 

"Why are you here, Zilong?" Yan Yan's voice cut through the air, his leather shoes whispering discontent against the polished floor. "I have an appointment with your intern." Zhao Zilong replied.

Yan's hand found its way to Zilong's shoulder, a subtle claim. "And how is my intern faring?" he asked, his voice tight.

Zilong's eyes crinkled with amusement. "Tang Qing did quite well, Yan. PEC doesn't hire just anyone." His gaze lingered on Tang Qing, admiration painting his features.

 

Tang Qing sensed the change in atmosphere, so she gathered her documents and sensed the charged atmosphere. "Mr Yan, Mr Zhao, I must return to work now."

Before they could respond, she slipped away, leaving Yan Yan and Zilong in her wake. Zilong, ever the charmer, attempted to salvage the situation. "Yan, lunch? We can discuss art—or anything else."

"No," Yan Yan replied curtly. "I have matters to attend to." His thoughts trailed after Tang Qing, wondering what secrets lay beneath her professional facade.

He quickened his pace, catching up to her near the water cooler. 

"Qing Qing, where are you going in such a hurry?" Yan wrapped his arms around Tang Qing from behind, his tone gloomy and tinged with displeasure. 

"There are people around; please let go," Tang Qing said anxiously, glancing around the crowded hallway.

"Where? I don't see anyone." Yan nuzzled into Tang Qing's shoulder, seeming to enjoy this intimate gesture.

"Can we go somewhere more private?" Tang Qing suggested weakly, growing increasingly flustered by Yan Yan's bold advances in public.

"Of course, my dear Qing Qing." Yan Yan readily agreed, steering Tang Qing towards the nearby elevator. As soon as the doors closed behind them, he pulled Tang Qing into his arms and pressed his lips hungrily against hers.

Tang Qing let out a muffled sound of surprise, instinctively biting on Yan Yan's lower lip to make him stop. But Yan Yan only deepened the kiss as if intent on stealing the very breath from Tang Qing's lungs.

"Let me go," Tang Qing pleaded, her voice trembling. 

Just as she thought Yan Yan was about to leave, the other woman suddenly stopped the kiss. Instead, Yan Yan began licking the saliva from the corner of Tang Qing's mouth.

"Qingqing, what did you say?" Yan Yan asked, her movements slow and deliberate.

"I-I was just talking about work," Tang Qing stammered, fear evident in her tone. She was terrified of what Yan Yan might do.

Sensing Tang Qing's distress, Yan Yan halted her actions. She wrapped her arms tightly around Tang Qing, gently stroking her to soothe the younger woman's nerves. 

"Is Qingqing afraid of me?" Yan Yan asked, her voice soft and laced with concern.

Tang Qing did not dare to respond, her lips sealed shut by a mixture of fear and uncertainty.

"That's good," Yan murmured, kissing Tang Qing's forehead tenderly to reassure her. 

The air in Yanyan's office was tense as she confronted Qingqing. "Qingqing, you know I don't like you getting close to other people," Yanyan said, her voice soft but laced with a threatening undertone. 

Qingqing responded calmly, "But who I'm close to now has nothing to do with you, Mr. Yan." She maintained a composed smile, refusing to rise to Yanyan's provocation.

Yanyan's expression shifted to one of feigned hurt. "Qingqing, do you want to be so angry with me?" she said, her lips brushing against Qingqing's ear in an intimate gesture. 

"Stay away from me!" Qingqing said firmly, taking a step back. The sudden hardness in her tone seemed to catch Yanyan off guard.

Undeterred, Yanyan's demeanor turned more severe as she nipped at Qingqing's earlobe, her tongue tracing the delicate bone. "I don't, Qing Qing," she purred, her voice being mischievous. "This is to punish Qing Qing."

With those words, Yanyan began to slowly unbutton Qingqing's blouse, placing a deliberate kiss on the exposed skin of her chest. "Qing Qing is mine, and you are mine too," she declared, her gaze intense as she pointed at Qingqing's heart.

Qingqing felt mixed emotions swirling within her - confusion, apprehension, and a flicker of something else she couldn't quite place. As Yanyan's bold actions unfolded, Qingqing was frozen, unsure how to respond.

The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken desires and power dynamics. Yanyan seemed to relish Qingqing's unease, her eyes gleaming with a predatory fascination.

Qingqing's mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation and Yanyan's possessive behavior. Was this a game of dominance, or did Yanyan's feelings run deeper than she let on? The questions swirled in Qingqing's mind, leaving her unsettled and uncertain.

Finally, as Yanyan's ministrations continued, Qingqing found the strength to extricate herself from the grasp of her colleague. With flushed cheeks and a heart pounding with a mix of fear and something more, she hurried out of the office, her mind reeling from the encounter.

The rest of the day she passed in a blur for Qingqing, her thoughts consumed by the intensity of the interaction. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Yanyan's actions than met the eye, a deeper layer of emotion and intent that she had yet to uncover fully.

As the sun set and the shadows lengthened, Qingqing replayed the scene in her mind, her fingers tracing the spot on her chest where Yanyan's lips had lingered. The memory sent a shiver down her spine, leaving her unsettled and strangely intrigued.

What was the nature of the bond between her and Yanyan? And where would this complex, unfolding dynamic lead them? Qingqing knew the answers to these questions would not come quickly, but she was determined to unravel the mysteries beneath the surface of their relationship.