Jeong Hye-yun

The girl from the owner's unit upstairs stood there in a short-sleeved top and tiny shorts, an A4 sheet clutched in her hand.

Around 165 centimeters, porcelain skin, large eyes, and a firm, toned body that suggested she worked out. A rare beauty.

I had just decided on the subway that I would start meeting women without hesitation, and luck had handed me a beauty right from the start.

"Come in."

"Yes."

Her tone was stiff, almost cold.

The moment I stepped closer she spun away, and a sharp little pang of disappointment hit me. Why was I feeling this after seeing her for all of ten seconds? Was this what people meant by love at first sight?

She matched my ideal type so perfectly it almost hurt.

I followed her, opened the door, and stepped into a room I already knew by heart. Four pyeong at most. One bed, a desk, a wardrobe, a mini-fridge—cramped.

Narrow. Back then I was grateful just to have this place. Now I'll just call it a study.

People really are shameless. The second money appears, the first thing you notice is how small the room is, and you start wondering whether anyone can actually live here.

Still, it was spotless. She must clean every day; a pleasant scent hung in the air and lifted my mood.

I stole a glance at her. Our eyes met; I gave a small nod, then opened the wardrobe, the desk drawers, and pressed down on the mattress once.

"Is there anything else I need to explain?"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

She swallowed as she spoke. That pale throat caught my eye, skin flushed a soft pink.

Thump-thump.

I forced my racing heart to settle, turned my head aside, and answered while pretending to keep inspecting the room.

"No."

Unlike the lower floors, the fourth sat directly beneath the owner's residence. Floors one through three were carved into eight tiny one-rooms each; the fourth held only two units because of the laundry room, drying room, and small lounge.

Student, the fourth floor is the best. Units 401 and 402 even have soundproofing. Blast a movie as loud as you want—just shut the window. You're not bringing a girlfriend, right? Then it's perfect.

The middle-aged landlady's words floated back. Looking at the girl in front of me, I could see the resemblance. That same explosive volume her mother had flaunted.

I watched her fidget, remembered the landlady's pitch, and pressed the wall again.

Soft. Springy.

Styrofoam padding made the space feel a touch smaller and stuffier than the other rooms, but I didn't care. Because of her—the owner's daughter—I had to take this unit. Decision made. I was going to sign somewhere anyway. Might as well go for the best option. A satisfied smile tugged at my lips.

"I'll take it."

"Yes. Please read this and sign."

She laid the two A4 sheets on the desk. When I reached for them our hands brushed; she flinched and yanked hers back.

Does she hate men?

I ran through my outfit: jeans, white tee, black jacket. People usually called me handsome, never ugly. Nothing that should make a girl jump like that.

The rejection stung for no good reason.

I picked up the pen she had set down and lifted one contract.

A simple one-page form. Address and personal details at the top, four short articles below.

"Just a word of caution—be careful even with friends, and especially with opposite-sex friends after nine... at least close the window."

Her face went crimson. She even stammered on "opposite-sex friends." The implication was obvious.

Cute, I thought, and nodded as I signed both copies.

She stepped close, stamped each sheet twice, stacked them, stamped again, and it was done. Even for a simple contract, renting a room had never been this easy.

"Please check the seals. This is the account number—transfer by midnight. Call me after and you can move in right away."

While I examined the papers her voice suddenly turned cool and businesslike. Contract finished, so of course. I nodded and kept checking.

"Yes. Thank you."

Constellation? So it really wasn't Grandfather after all...

All those awkward mannerisms. The way he had parroted lines without understanding them. None of it had been a lie.

Just like that—order me to have sex out of nowhere?

I finished the mission window in a single glance. Because I was still holding the contract as if checking it, she looked thoroughly annoyed. Arms crossed, foot tapping, clearly telling me to hurry up. Yet exactly as the window claimed, she kept swallowing and stealing glances downward.

It's real. Look at that—she keeps peeking at my crotch.

I held out one signed copy. She locked eyes with me and reached for it.

In my head I was already inside her.

But my mind went blank. I had no idea what to say. Without thinking I seized her hand and stepped closer.

Her skin was impossibly soft. It was the first time I had ever held a girl's hand, and every coherent thought vanished.

"I... I like you."

You idiot. What are you fumbling for? And "I like you"—then what?

My face burned. The stutter kept replaying. Grabbing her hand like that—what if Hye-yun thought I was a creep?

I let go at once.

What now?

She was definitely startled: cheeks scarlet, fingers fretting over the place I had touched. Then she hesitated, clearly wrestling with something.

Zero dating experience left me floundering. I cursed myself silently.

Just eat the three stock tips? And how am I supposed to live here after this?

Heavy silence. I finally stepped back from the wordless girl and spoke.

"I'm sorry. That was way too sudden."

Some of the information could go. I never knew what it was worth anyway. The rest of the tips plus the lottery numbers would be plenty.

The thought steadied me. Panic and heat drained away, leaving cold calm.

I gave her an awkward smile and bowed my head.

"I'm sorry. I'll be going now. The money will be in by midnight, I promise."

I still need to keep some kind of relationship with her. Let her write it off as a mistake and just leave first.

I drew a deep breath and walked to the door. Hand on the knob, I hesitated a second, then turned it.

"I... I'm fine with it."

Really?

It works like this?

Her trembling voice came from behind me. Fireworks exploded inside my skull.

Does this actually work?

I turned slowly. My heart hammered so hard I was sure she could hear it; my face felt on fire.

She stood with her head bowed, face completely red. Legs twisted together. And—most decisive of all—her pink shorts were soaked through.

How did I miss that?

The mission window had spelled it out, yet I had never noticed the wet fabric. Staring at it wiped her previous words from my mind, so I asked again.

"Pardon?"

"I said I like you too!"

That's acceptance, right?

My chest felt ready to burst. The heartbeat was so violent I worried she would hear it.

Joy flooded me. I closed the distance and pulled her into my arms.

She didn't push me away. She simply nestled in, resting her head against my chest.

Am I finally dating someone?

While I breathed in her scent, her arms slid around my waist. We pressed closer still, and the soft, heavy weight of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her breasts molded against me—huge, impossibly soft, springy.

"Ah!"

She felt it too; a small moan slipped out.