The Anti-Communist Witch and the Red
One ordinary morning. Pavel Nikolayevich Choy was performing syndicate business as he always did from the suite room of a Seoul hotel.
“As always” meant the document work performed on a laptop.
Protecting the Miss Bronska was far too natural to be recognized as work, the way one breathes.
“Approved, approved, this… I should ask them to re-examine it.”
Choy’s paperwork was among the least of the tasks in the five pillars of the organization set up by the soul’s master himself.
Still, this had grown somewhat recently. After the Miss Bronska herself personally instructed him to increase the security workload.
Before that, it hadn’t even been work.
At most, a thirty-minute to one-hour session where the main office reviewed documents and the site reviewed laptop screens, delivering approvals, re-examinations, or rejections.
The current work content had not changed greatly. Only the time he had to pour through it had doubled—heavy work required approximately 1.5 times as much now.
From what Pavel himself knew, the Miss was on a phone call with the Japanese princess in the next room right now.
Soon—probably today or tomorrow—she would be visiting Japan again. Final coordination with local collaborators was an essential step beforehand.
It was the kind of thing a subordinate could handle, yet the Miss had insisted she do it herself.
“It’s amusing to tease,” he remembered her saying.
Pavel had simply continued with the rest of his work. It was almost finished now.
“What are you doing, Pavel?”
“Delis?”
“Ah, yes. Just woke up.”
From the rear bed came a rustling sound.
Pavel turned his head and saw Delis Blumpelt stretching while gathering the sleeves of a large shirt that did not fit her.
It had been no more than an hour since she had finally drifted into a short sleep after a night of work as head of the information department.
She undid the buttons of the oversized shirt on the bed, allowing her glossy, lustrous dark hair to spill free.
Pavel rolled his eyes and asked, “Did you sleep well?”
Instead of answering, Delis slowly rose from the bed while half-unbuttoning the shirt, then repeated the question.
“Why didn’t you wake me? You said you’d sleep for only thirty minutes.”
“I was so exhausted I couldn’t bring myself to.”
“Still, you could have at least tried. What were you doing?”
“Reviewing documents. A couple more to go and I’ll be finished soon.”
Pavel glanced away. On the practically nude figure beneath his own half-worn shirt, the sight of her slowly approaching the bed was too destructive.
“Finished soon? That’s a pleasant sound to hear.”
Delis ran her tongue across her lips. To Pavel it looked like she was savoring the taste.
She continued closing the distance without pause.
As her figure grew larger in his field of vision, he could no longer look away.
Pavel recalled their conversation from about an hour earlier, just before dawn.
“Ugh… I finally finished today too…”
“Good work, Delis. You should rest a little.”
“Mmm… Speaking of which, was it today we were going to Japan…? Sleeping on the plane might be fine.”
From what Pavel had observed, Delis’s average sleep time fell below four hours most days while she changed clothes and threw herself into work.
Yet she endured that slender body thanks to the regeneration magic Pavel cast for her.
It did not eliminate all fatigue, and calories had to come from her own body. Meals were essential.
Delis claimed, “Sleeping while wrapped in your arms makes it far better.” But that was nonsense.
Regardless of the embarrassment of sleeping embraced, logically fatigue would not vanish that easily.
So Pavel had given her sincere advice.
“That won’t work. I’m serious—please rest at least an hour, or thirty minutes if you must.”
“Mmm… If you say it like that, maybe I should rest a bit?”
“Yes, even I think rest is necessary. Three straight days of all-nighters isn’t healthy.”
Delis still accepted his counsel.
There was only one problem—
“It can’t be just that… If you lie beside me.”
“…”
—she always imposed conditions.
At that moment Delis had worn an obviously disappointed expression, the look of a pet that had lost its owner. Pavel knew he would feel guilty if he left her like that.
The way to ease the guilt was Delis’s own suggestion.
“Then… take off at least your clothes.”
“What?”
“Your shirt, Pavel.”
“…”
After their first time together—and strictly speaking, after they had confirmed each other’s feelings before that—Pavel had vaguely realized Delis possessed an unusual taste.
“Right, this is the one you’re wearing. No new ones.”
“…Understood.”
He could never forget that Delis always let out a long breath and exhaled each time she buried her face against him.
He did not know why she liked it, yet asking would have made her sulk in a way that could not be undone.
So he tossed her whatever prey a beast might enjoy, and Pavel had removed his shirt and handed it over.
Delis stripped everything except her underwear, then slipped into Pavel’s shirt and crawled beneath the covers.
That had been one hour ago. The excuse that he could not wake her because she was too exhausted had itself taken one hour.
Now Delis walked barefoot across the rug toward him, soft steps.
She softly embraced Pavel from behind while he sat in the chair without a backrest, so the sensation of her chest pressing against his back was unavoidable.
He had been grabbed and tickled countless times before, yet the mere touch still made him jolt.
“I haven’t finished the work yet.”
She resisted lightly, but Delis pressed her arms tighter around him in response.
“There are just a couple left. Finish them. I’ll stay like this.”
She pressed her face deep into his neck and took a deep breath.
A moment later Pavel, half-expecting what would happen, let out a sigh heavy with resignation.
“Approved. Last one approved. It’s finished.”
“Aha, you’re done?”
“I don’t know when the Miss will call. I thought the call with the Japanese Communist Party secretary would end soon.”
“Mmm…”
Pavel had no objection to doing what Delis wanted. Mutual affection was not one-sided.
Why would he refuse? Though he was now older in years, his blood was still strong.
If he always gave her exactly what she desired, however, he would become spoiled.
It felt like treating a precious lover like an animal; he tilted his head, yet the feeling remained.
He liked being stroked, liked being held, and even rougher acts made him pant with pleasure.
“Still, it can’t be too much.”
Blind obedience was not the answer. Pavel thought for a moment and changed his mind.
Pavel turned in his seat to face Delis.
“Delis.”
“Mmm?”
He placed her on his own knee.
Just as before, “Mmm?” was followed by her collapsing onto him with a soft thud.
He did not give her time to protest before sealing her lips with his.
The mouth blocked by someone else could only release meaningless sounds before falling silent.
Soon the only sounds filling the suite room were those of passion and the wet echo of flesh.
As their tongues intertwined longer, the noise became more than just saliva, yet Delis’s body trembled only slightly in the heat. Her waist was gripped tightly, after all.
Shame had already surrendered to pleasure.
There had been times when she had accepted a fully naked form without hesitation, yet she chose to enjoy this moment of embarrassment instead of erasing it.
Minutes passed. The shirt and bra were removed, yet only endless warmth remained.
Why did she feel warm?
Because she had fled the reality of her father’s death, escaping a hell where she had even contemplated death, and now that hell no longer threatened her?
Or because she had escaped the precarious tightrope and wielded the information power of an organization on the world’s stage?
Or simply because the large chest beneath her was holding her waist securely, allowing her tongue, body, and heart to entwine with the person right in front of her?
Probably all of it. Her mindset had changed dramatically from a year ago, the way a superior breaks a wall.
That was why Delis felt an immeasurable gratitude.
She had the fact that people had not collapsed when she herself shook, people who supported her waist as strongly as she was now.
Many felt gratitude, yet now she focused only on the person before her eyes.
It was somewhat unfair to the soul’s master, but Delis felt greater stability from Pavel than anyone else at this moment.
—Delis slowly pulled away and met his deep blue eyes with her bright yellow ones.—
And because of that, Delis Blumpelt whispered the words of immeasurable gratitude.
“I love you.”