Bugged

Fúck, she was hot. The black dress made her fair skin look even paler, and she looked ghostly, only that she was in dark colours.

Even before he had told her to wear the dress she was in, he knew she'd turn out this way. What he didn't know was it would show all her curves.

Her curves were on display; her boobs were almost spilling out of the dress. The dress was fucking small.

The witch, Janice, had picked it, and he'd kill her for objectifying her in this manner.

But he didn't care. At least, he shouldn't care.

Yet, he didn't like the eyes leering at her. He had shoot too many perverts a glare tonight, and he was exhausted from doing so.

"You are hurting me," Alessia mumbled. She winced as he released her waist from his death grip.

"Sorry," He smiled sheepishly at her and stared down at her as she caressed her hand. "Are you cold?"

Alessia began to shake her head, but before she could speak, he draped his jacket over her.

"It's not necessary." She mumbled. "I can manage."

"It is,"