#16 Dizzying Cohabitation Life (4)
-Shwooooaa
"Hnghmm♪"
After wrapping up their late-night snack, Nayae headed into the bathroom for a shower. Seohyun let out deep sighs as she endlessly listened to the sound of falling water and Nayae's humming. The stalker had scared her, so she'd readily accepted Yuchan's suggestion to live with Nayae. She swore to the heavens she hadn't harbored any strange thoughts at the time. Cohabitation just meant their living spaces overlapped a bit, and Seohyun was the type who tried her best to hide her sexual desires. Being a lesbian was a pretty big issue—and an inconvenience—in Korea. Above all, she worried most about how Yujin would take it. They'd bathed together since they were kids, and when sharing a bed, seeing each other naked was commonplace. If Yujin learned the truth now, she might misunderstand and think Seohyun had hidden her lesbianism all this time out of some sordid lust.
Haah... She hated herself for not being able to completely deny it.
In any case, living with a cute girl like Nayae was incredibly stressful. The moment Nayae entered the bathroom, that massive dildo she'd glimpsed on the shelf earlier kept popping into her mind. Lewd demons had truly taken hold.
The door creaked open. With the wet slap of damp footprints on the floor, Nayae emerged. Steam billowed thickly from the gap in the open bathroom door.
"Haah, feels so refreshing."
Seohyun had tried to look away deliberately, but her gaze nailed itself to Nayae without her realizing. Her milky skin still glistened from the warm water that had just trailed over it, her cheeks flushed peach-pink. The breasts she'd only vaguely guessed were huge yesterday were barely concealed by the towel draped over her shoulders, their heavy weight lifting the fabric. A beautiful neckline and a slender waist. It was sensually suffocating.
"Why are you staring like that?"
As if amused by Seohyun's reaction, Nayae playfully hugged herself. Seohyun hurriedly averted her eyes and tried to respond as naturally as possible.
"Your body's seriously amazing."
She'd meant to sound casual, but it came out like a critic sighing in admiration before a beautiful artwork. Her voice sounded so sticky-sweet. It wouldn't come off as sexual harassment, right? She was doomed.
"Hahaha."
Nayae suddenly burst into laughter, grinning as she walked straight toward Seohyun with a model's strut. The parts of her breasts not covered by the towel jiggled visibly with each step. If Seohyun blushed and stammered here, Nayae might get suspicious instead. She just had to act confident, like it was no big deal. What should she say? She had no idea how to sound natural. In light panic, Seohyun stiffened up as Nayae crouched right in front of her, matching eye level. Water droplets rolled down her moisturized, glistening skin from her hair.
"What are you looking at~?"
"Ah, no. Just... they look heavy."
"They are kinda heavy. My shoulders get stiff a lot."
She hadn't thought she'd been staring that obviously. Nayae had noticed everything. Nayae flashed a proud smile and leaned her upper body forward, slowly closing in on Seohyun. Like a cornered rat, Seohyun gradually sank deeper into the sofa. How could she act so boldly? Or was this normal? Maybe I'm the weird one for being so conscious of her nudity. She didn't even know the right boundaries, so reacting was tricky.
"Wanna touch 'em?"
"Ah..."
The towel slipped from Nayae's torso and fell away. With less coverage than an ancient Greek chiton, it revealed Nayae's perfectly shaped, swollen breasts shimmering right before her eyes. Seohyun sighed unwittingly. They were the pinnacle of beauty—droplet-shaped, perfectly firm without a hint of sag despite their size, with ripe pink tips and faint areolas so tantalizing she wanted to bite right in.
This is just friendly intimacy between girls. Just curious about big, pretty boobs. Reassuring herself, Seohyun cautiously gripped Nayae's breasts.
"You're totally spaced out. Your reaction's hilarious."
"No, it's just... I've never seen ones this big before."
Seohyun's long fingers cradled the heavy breasts. The substantial weight sagged softly with gravity in her palms, like rippling water balloons filled with fat. She felt the nipple standing erect in the center of her palm. A tingling ache stirred in her lower belly. Did that cake have something in it? My sexual urges are way stronger today.
Seohyun savored the velvety texture—more alluring than the finest velvet—for a good while.
"It tickles, that's enough!"
Nayae covered her chest and slipped on a white tank top she used as sleepwear. Seohyun, feeling her breath grow slightly hot, said to her,
"I'm so jealous. I wish mine were as big as yours."
"But Seohyun, you've got an amazing figure instead. When I hugged you yesterday, you fit perfectly in one arm?"
"Still, having such a pretty shape without surgery is impressive."
Seohyun inwardly sighed in relief now that she had something on, but it wasn't much armor. The hem was short enough to reveal her cute navel, and the thin fabric let the faint pink outline of her nipples show through clearly. Better than nothing, though. She'd thought Nayae was the quiet, shy type. She never expected her to offer her breasts like that. With assets that perfect, feeling proud was natural, but it was a bit unexpected. Is this what they call 'daytime prude, nighttime slut' or whatever?
"Time for bed. Come on in."
Seohyun lay down softly beside Nayae, who was already in bed with the covers pulled back. The bed wasn't too narrow for two women. As soon as Seohyun settled, Nayae clung tightly to her with a delighted expression, hugging her close. It didn't startle her like the night before.
"I've been so lonely sleeping alone every night. I'm so glad you came, Seohyun."
"I'm happy I could help."
Nayae seemed extremely prone to loneliness. Even last night, she'd held on like this for ages before finally dozing off with soft breaths. Her soft body felt vividly real even through their thin clothes.
"Goodnight. You worked hard studying today."
"Yeah, you too, Seohyun."
Nayae and Seohyun turned off the bedside standing lamp and drifted to sleep.
2.
Those consumed by inferiority and smoldering rage crave recognition. This stalker had clearly been itching to boast about his proud crimes to someone. Buoyed by Yuchan's apt responses, the stalker eagerly spilled everything. About thirty minutes of conversation. Being dim-witted, his ramblings were all over the place—straying from the point and dumping irrelevant trivia—so the yield was pathetically low for the time invested.
For starters, this stalker knew nothing about X, the psycho stalking Yuchan (whom he'd henceforth call X for convenience). Crime advice came unilaterally via printed sheets masquerading as letters from X's side, offering no path to approach X through him. While listening to his plans for assaulting Seohyun, Yuchan probed about X in bits and pieces. From the handwriting, X seemed highly educated. More than anyone, X had recognized and treated him kindly. X had even fed him nonsense that Yuchan was dating Seohyun.
"Th-this place... h-he set it up. H-here, no one'll f-find out if you k-kill someone."
"How do you dispose of the body?"
"Th-the building has a s-septic tank in the basement. Y-you'll rot there with the sh-shit too. Kehihihi."
"I'd rather not."
The stalker swayed his upper body and picked up the monkey wrench again, positioning himself before Yuchan.
"K-killing someone who chats so well like you... It's s-sad, but no choice."
Yuchan had learned all he needed. Killing the stalker here carried minimal risk of detection. From the kidnapping to this execution site, it was planned systematically and safely. Conversely, killing the stalker wouldn't implicate Yuchan much either. The table was set; he just needed to grab the spoon.
"I won't tell anyone, so spare my life? I thought we could be good friends."
"Kehihihi, d-do you know who I am? I'm a p-psychopath! D-don't think normal talk'll work."
"And do you know what kind of person I am?"
His voice, saccharine and accommodating just moments ago, flipped in an instant. The stalker panicked. It carried the leisure of looking down on men—the very thing he hated most.
"Wh-what the hell!"
"If it were me, the moment I decided to kill, I'd at least shatter an ankle first. The cuffs are sloppily done, surprisingly."
The poor sisters might not have realized it, but there were plenty of ways to escape handcuffs. Enraged, the stalker swung the monkey wrench wildly before Yuchan. Sharp wind whistled past.
"I-I was gonna give you a quick, painless death, but y-you're done for!"
The wrench, aimed precisely at Yuchan's forehead, halted abruptly. His left hand, still cuffed, had seized the stalker's wrist.
"Like magic?"
"Wh-what!"
Yuchan dangled and shook his supposedly handcuffed right hand behind his back. Using the grip of his left hand pressed against it, he'd dislocated his right thumb's metacarpal. With the thumb out, he could match the cuff's width to slip free. Of course, enduring the ligament pain had been rough, but better than dying to an ugly stalker, right?
"Y-you fucking bastard! Kraaaagh!!!"
The instant Yuchan twisted the stalker's wrist, he fired a left jab straight at his contorted face. Not just any jab—his left thumb hooked into the stalker's right eye socket like grabbing a cheek. The vitreous humor burst with a sticky, jelly-like feel. His shrieking was deafening. Yuchan felt a refreshing release as something lodged in his gut slid down.
"Kragh!! Kraaaagh!!!"
"Nice pipes."
Like gripping a bowling ball, Yuchan dug his thumb into the eye socket and shook the stalker's big head violently. The agony, like drilling into his brain, made him spew vomit while screaming. Yuchan slammed the head to the floor like releasing a bowling ball; the stalker collapsed, clutching his eye and wailing.
"M-my eye! Guh!! Krggh!!!"
Yuchan shook off the sticky fluid mixed with blood from his left hand. His body was in great shape, but he'd never formally trained in fighting. Against a pro fighter in a lower weight class under ring rules, he'd lose for sure. But he had sharper fangs than ordinary humans: zero hesitation in breaking others.
Even brutal types hesitate to gouge an eye. They empathize with the pain, the screams. But Yuchan didn't care what method was efficient, no matter how gruesome. Watching a screaming human writhe was no different from smashing a clay sculpture. Come to think of it, many religions say humans are molded from clay. His actions might just be kneading lumps of dirt the same way.
Yuchan gripped the fallen monkey wrench. Rust flaked off, making the grip iffy, but it was heavy enough. He'd taken hits to the forehead and ear, and dislocated a finger. He squeezed his swollen, twice-normal-sized thumb, popping the bone back in.
-Crack!
Sharp pain as the bone slotted in. The worst human pain had to be when muscles and ligaments twist out of place. Yuchan approached the crawling stalker leisurely. Still clutching his eye, trembling. Without hesitation, Yuchan grabbed his ankle and kicked hard. The fully extended thigh bone snapped in two with a clear crack.
"Kweeeeegh!!!"
"First, you hurt as much as I did."
"Pl-please... mercy..."
Yuchan scratched his head. That was a problematic request.
"Just obey, and I'll send you back safe. Don't worry—we're friends who get along great."
He might have more questions. Yuchan lied calmly.