Chirp, chirp—chirp, chirp—
A bright sound gently stirred her blacked-out consciousness awake. When she opened her eyes, streaks of light broke in through the tangled strands of her hair.
“Ah...!”
But the mont she opened them, a scream burst out. Or more precisely, a wave of indescribable pain surged up from below her waist. Her legs were like those of a patient who’d just co out of major surgery—completely immobile. Her eyes were so swollen she could barely keep them open.
She moved her lips, which still burned, and found her voice raw and torn, as if soone had scraped it with a rake. In short, her whole body was a complete wreck.
Honestly, she’d rather go through Hell Week again and run 7 kiloters in full gear. Her body still radiated a slight fever; even her breath ca in hot.
Last night, Lee Wooshin had been relentless, clinging to her even as only thin, watery fluid leaked out of him. He rubbed and ground himself against her cleavage, her navel, the parted folds of her labia.
And when he hardened again, he’d find so way to shove himself in. At that point, climax wasn’t even his goal. It was like he thought she was just a sheath for his cock—he just wanted to stay inside her, obsessively, persistently.
Rembering pieces of the night before, Seoryeong buried her face into the pillow. Just thinking about it again made her feel like that day had stretched on forever.
Drip, drip—
...Huh?
Drip, drip—
Then, a light, rhythmic sound pulled her weary mind back up to the surface.
A sun-darkened back with a clearly defined spine and scattered scars. Seoryeong lost her words for a mont. Lee Wooshin, shirtless, sat at the edge of the bed bundled in a blanket—trimming her toenails.
“――!”
She jolted upright and a twinge shot through her waist. The peaceful morning scene made her stomach churn without warning. Seoryeong grimaced like she’d just tasted sothing bitter and foul.
“What the...―”
Her voice ca out hoarse and raspy, prompting him to turn his sturdy neck toward her. He gave her a clean, breezy smile.
“Did you sleep well?”
“......”
Seoryeong clenched her lips shut. That nonchalant attitude grated on her nerves. ssy hair across his nose bridge, and judging by the way his hipbones peeked through the blanket, he still wasn’t wearing underwear.
For so reason, she let out a sigh. And yet, when the sunlight caught him, it felt like her vision cleared—like waking from a long blindness. That overwhelming despair she’d writhed in felt like a distant mory.
It was a strange sensation. Her limbs ached like the onset of a fever, but her mood had sohow lifted. Her gaze lingered on Wooshin’s curved back longer than she intended.
“What are you doing, Instructor?”
Seoryeong subtly tried to pull her foot away as she asked. Wooshin grabbed the retreating foot and brought it back to him.
“Just cutting off what you don’t need.”
“......”
“Hungry?”
Yes, and whose fault is that? But more than hunger, her body just ached like hell.
The muscles inside her thighs pulled tight like they were torn, and the nipples he’d kept in his mouth all night still throbbed dully. Her swollen entrance stung with every breath she took.
Torture training might’ve been preferable to this. Even as she scoffed to herself, clip, clip—her toenails were still being neatly trimd.
He pressed down on the freshly clipped nails, carefully cutting any rough edges. Even the smallest slivers sticking out, he smoothed with precision.
He’d pushed her down, sat her up, flipped her over, and slamd into her without an ounce of rcy—and now here he was, being all gentle. Seoryeong dragged her hand down her face like she was washing up.
“Instructor...”
Last night, she’d briefly wondered if Kim Hyun might be a foreigner. But then again, how could a foreigner beco a National Intelligence Service agent? Judging by the size of his cock alone, he didn’t exactly seem dostically sourced... but still. No way. Seoryeong shook her head in resignation.
“...What country are you from?”
Back when rumors were swirling about the Special Security Team leader, she’d heard he’d co from abroad. At her question, Wooshin let out a small, amused laugh.
“Finally taking an interest in ?”
“...!”
“Woke up wondering what kind of blood made a face like this?”
“That’s not... it’s not that kind of interest—”
“Now that we’ve fucked each other silly, it finally felt like ti to ask nas?”
“......”
“Why are you like this?”
The way he twisted the tone was so ridiculously off-mark, it left her speechless. As she opened her mouth to snap back, he spoke first.
“My grandfather was Russian.”
Wooshin kept his head bowed, fiddling with her toes. His voice was flat, without emotion.
...Russian? So not from an English-speaking country? That was unexpected. His glossy black hair and sharply defined features stood out even more now. Without thinking, Seoryeong said whatever popped into her head.
“That’s kind of funny. I almost ended up going to Russia, too.”
“......”
He paused. Seoryeong blinked and began rambling.
“I used to do gymnastics back in school. They’d send the top athletes to train in Russia. Did you speak Russian, then? I even morized the Cyrillic alphabet.”
“Did you end up going?”
“...No. I quit gymnastics—and school—before I could.”
“Does your husband know?”
“Know what?”
“That you had sothing you were once proud to brag about.”
“...!”
Did I... co off that way? She shook her head. She might’ve been good at gymnastics as a kid, but that didn’t an she loved it.
“Why didn’t you tell him any of this?”
“I was afraid I’d say the wrong thing.”
“......”
“I wanted to show him only the good sides of , so I kept piling up thoughts in my head. If I started sharing even one thing, he’d eventually learn everything else—that I quit gymnastics, that I had no real friends in school, that I’ve got a shitty personality. I think I was just afraid of being honest.”
“......”
“So in the end, I just... couldn’t say anything. I guess I was just...”
She trailed off, staring into the air.
“...Desperate.”
Her voice had beco much calr at so point. Wooshin stared at her without blinking, his expression slowly falling—though he seed unaware of it. Sothing about him looked shaken.
“You probably don’t get this kind of thing, do you, Instructor?”
Seoryeong asked, almost offhandedly.
She figured soone like him wouldn’t understand what it felt like to have to swallow your emotions for fear of being cast aside. He always looked at her like she was foolish.
Regret crept in as soon as she said it. She rubbed her forehead, tucking her feet back under the blanket.
As a strange silence settled in, Seoryeong turned sothing over in her head—then suddenly bared her teeth.
“But even you must have one mont, right? Your absolute worst mont.”
“...!”
“For , that was yesterday. And you saw it all.”
She had completely broken down when she thought Kim Hyun was dead. She had shown Lee Wooshin the most pitiful, helpless side of herself.
And for so reason, that still bothered her. Probably because he had seen her very bottom—the rawest, most shaful part of her. The imbalance of vulnerability was what made her feel so uneasy. It was pride.
His serious gaze landed on her like a silent weight. Seoryeong covered the red, blotchy marks on her chest, pelvis, and thighs with the blanket and added,
“I just don’t want to be the only one who looks weak. So forget the toenails—I want you to tell sothing too, Instructor.”
Only then, she thought, could this relationship continue in a clean, transactional way.
To that, Lee Wooshin turned fully toward her, smiling like he found her amusing.
“Ah—so you’re saying, waking up after a fuck session with the instructor feels kind of shitty, and yesterday was embarrassing as hell, so now you want to dig into my past to balance the scales—sothing like that?”
He laid it out teasingly, but with an edge. Seoryeong flinched but didn’t want to look stubborn, so she awkwardly looked away and muttered, “...Yes.”
Wooshin burst out laughing and yanked her foot up again, peppering it with bites.
“What the hell are you—!”
“Since when was being emotionally twisted this cute?”
“...!”
“Don’t want to see my dick bent again?”
“Move your mouth!”
When his lips touched her foot, Seoryeong jumped. At first he bit it playfully, but then it turned into a childlike ga—like teasing a baby’s toes. She could feel the pulse beneath her sole.
Why the hell is he smiling like that? That subtle, kind expression set her chest ablaze. When he was still, he looked cold; but when he let himself soften like this, it was unbearable.
“But now I feel bad.”
Wooshin propped one hand on the mattress, loosening his posture.
“For , almost every mont was the worst.”
He counted on his fingers, casual as could be.
“My parents died when I was eight. I was completely alone by fourteen. Then right when I turned twenty, the people I trusted most stabbed in the back and died. Which one do you want to hear about? Go on, pick one, Agent Han Seoryeong.”
“......”
“They were all shit, so whatever you pick’ll probably be fun.”
With a blank expression, he rubbed the back of his neck. ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) His whole tone was light—like he was recounting a childhood talent show.
“But if I had to pick one...”
Suddenly, Wooshin dropped his gaze.
“My worst day... was also my best.”
...What kind of ‘best day’ would a man like him have?
“...What was it?”
She only realized after the words left her mouth. They’d escaped without ever passing through her brain. Startled, she blinked fast. He scratched his jaw, looking conflicted.
He had spoken so easily about death, but this ti, it seed like he might stay silent. Her gut told her that. Then his deep, sunken eyes t hers.
“Getting married.”
From sowhere nearby, his phone rang—sharply, urgently.
The mont snapped her wide awake.
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