Chapter 140
Of course she says she hasn't shown them to anyone else, but the most perfect example is right there on her own chest. Naturally, there'd be a ton of big-boobed characters. And Yoo Seol-ah secretly takes a lot of pride in her own bust. Honestly, I think she's got every reason to. Especially lying down like this, the way her chest draws the eye.
But even with all that pride, she's not immune to embarrassment—she averts her gaze and closes her eyes.
"...I'm gonna sleep."
We've had a packed day already, and then she went all out drawing again, so of course she'd be wiped. I lie back down straight, slowly closing my eyes as I murmur,
"Night."
"......"
No goodnight back tonight? I figure maybe she's already out, but just as I'm drifting off, her soft voice reaches me right before sleep claims me.
"...You too. Night."
If I'd conked out a second sooner, I would've missed it. She probably timed it that way on purpose, but even with my eyes shut, a natural smile creeps onto my face. I'd been grinding hard on studying too, so that was my last memory before lights out.
As expected, my eyes flutter open naturally, and Yoo Seol-ah's already up and getting ready for the day. She looks pretty chipper—guess she forgot all about yesterday?
"Hmm~♪"
Anyone who doesn't know her would be shocked at how defenseless she gets at home. I'm getting used to her humming now, though. Of course, I've only just opened my eyes and haven't stirred yet, so she has no clue I'm awake.
But man, she's extra bouncy today. Singing full lyrics seals it.
"Tennis today~♪"
Ah, that explains it. Wednesday's just the one basic tennis class. School and instructor schedules kept it off till now, so this is basically the first real session. It's a P/NP class that's easy on credits, so some folks were thrilled there was no class at all.
But picking up tennis in Korea isn't as straightforward as other sports, so even if it doesn't show, Yoo Seol-ah—who loves anything active—is hyped for good reason. And yeah, I'm intrigued too. Especially since it's not solo—I'll be doing it with her.
"Just one class today~♪"
Lying here listening, I'm kinda curious how long she'll keep singing. As someone deep in music, especially vocal mixing where I think I've got some chops, she's got real talent. The kind that forces a smile on your face every time. Whether that's good or bad... better not say for her dignity's sake.
Wanna hit karaoke sometime. Her voice is killer—she'd crush it if she tried.
I mull it over a bit, then—for her dignity—deliberately rustle around and sit up in bed. She cuts off her humming mid-note and whips around.
"...Huh? When'd you wake up?"
"Ah, just now."
I even play it like I'm still half-asleep, so she should feel safe now. She hums a lot in the mornings, so she probably figures there's a chance I was up already. But my Oscar-worthy act seems to land—she regains her composure.
"...Class at 11 today, so wanna head out early and grab cafeteria food?"
"Sounds good. Been wanting to try it."
Ever since the landlord goddess sorted our housing, money worries are ancient history. True queen among landlords.
Home-cooked by me would taste better, sure, but sometimes you just crave someone else's cooking. Korea University's cafeteria has a solid rep, so I start getting ready at a leisurely pace.
"What should I wear?"
She flings open the closet and asks me. Normally I'd suggest something cute, but tennis calls for easy-movement gear.
"Tennis today, so comfy T-shirt?"
First class, probably some basics, but we'll be moving.
"Yeah, top and bottom both comfy. But I've got tons—see?"
She steps aside and yanks open every drawer below. Holy crap, so many clothes. Fashion design major's wardrobe is no joke. To me—who buys only what I need—it feels like a whole other species. Gotta move soon. The new place has a full dressing room.
"...Eek."
She keeps pulling drawers till one makes her squeak cutely, then slams it shut. Too late—I already saw. Her lingerie stash.
Wasn't staring, but stuff like that cat-print set from before, or the plain white one with just a ribbon, caught my eye. She rolls her eyes around nervously.
"...You saw?"
Saying "no" here makes you an idiot. The smart play is "What?" or "Saw what?" But sometimes... you just wanna play the fool.
"Nah?"
I let her off the hook for the humming earlier, but her latest klutz move pulls the truth out of me. Her face flushes crimson.
Compared to admitting I saw, this has some consideration, right? Wrong—she knows me too well.
"...I-if you're gonna play dumb, do it better! I know you're smart...!"
Feels like a backhanded compliment, but she sees right through my ploy. Should've tapped deeper into my acting reserves?
"Okay, I saw."
"Don't say it!..."
How's she always this reactive? But push too far and she'll sulk and bail on going out, so I skip mentioning the sky-blue striped panties. Stripes, huh. Never seen her wear those.
"Fine, I'll pick."
Teasing penalty: I lose outfit veto power. Fair—she's way better at it anyway. Means I get to admire how good she looks.
True to her quick-to-ignite, quick-to-cool form, she pulls out three T-shirt/pants combos. Mutters a quick incantation.
"...Float up."
The outfits start rotating in front of her, levitating via mana. She turns to me—opinion time.
"...Pick one."
Last time I said she'd look best in her own picks, I got chewed out. So I trust my fashion sense and scan for the winner.
"One and three?"
"Same here."
Living with her this long must be sharpening my eye. Smugly watching her, a blatantly shoujo-manga glow suddenly envelops her.
...Last time it was steam in the bathroom. She must've binged those series—service scenes always have this effect.
"...Gonna change now..."
We've seen each other naked, sure, but she's strict about casual skin. She reemerges layered: T-shirt under a windbreaker. Baggy style amps the cuteness—nice.
"Looks great."
I compliment first this time. She looks caught off-guard.
"...W-well, you're getting better at fashion, and I wear this for workouts anyway... Plus windbreakers don't cling to curves..."
Her words speed up—always a sign. I stifle a grin, staring silently. She pops.
"Don't laugh!..."
"...Why cafeteria all of a sudden?"
"Feels more student-y eating with everyone, right?"
"You are a student. What's up, Seol-ah."
"...Oh."
That three-year gap post-high school hitting her? Park Harin and Lee Seo-yeon jumped at her invite quick, and now we're en route to the cafeteria.
"I've never tried it either—curious."
"...Yeah, makes sense."
Lee Seo-yeon chimes in; Park Harin nods like it clicked. Seo-yeon pouts.
"...Harin, not what you're thinking... Just started the semester recently..."
"Slumming it with the peasants?"
Seo-yeon's near tears. Those two bonded fast. Yoo Seol-ah's the bridge, sure, but Harin's chill vibe hides a prankster streak.
"Kidding. But Seol-ah's sporty fit is on brand."
Harin grins at near-crying Seo-yeon, then eyes shift. Old stories pique my interest too.
"Always dressed like that?"
"Yeah, gym class she'd layer windbreaker or tracksuit on top. Even midsummer."
Double layers in summer heat? Spring's fine, but summer? Beyond fashion—
I glance at flushing Yoo Seol-ah and get it.
"...It jiggles no matter what!... You said you won't show 'em to anyone else..."
Spot on, but the other three freeze—minus her.
"...Baek Sion gets a pass?"
"N-no, that's not—"
Seo-yeon's question makes her stammer, then bolt ahead like fleeing.
"...Damn, she's fast."
"Jealous, Sion..."
PE major Harin and casual admirer Seo-yeon. ...Yeah, super-baggy windbreaker hides the bounce well. Wait, so I get a pass?
