I Want to Try Kissing

I want to try kissing. Chic, pushik!

I wiped the cold water droplets from the can's surface and brought it straight to my lips.

Gulp, gulp.

The sharp, bitter aroma of barley mingled with the crisp fizz scraping down my throat. It felt like the physical fatigue was being washed away in one go with the alcohol.

I lightly moistened my lips and set the can down on the table, turning my gaze to the sofa.

"…."

Grace, sitting ramrod straight there, didn't look too good.

To be precise, the cold beer can clutched in both her hands clashed horribly with her current state.

Tremble, tremble, tremble.

Her two hands, peeking out from the ends of her nun's habit sleeves, were shaking like mad.

Grace held the beer can preciously—or fearfully—with both hands, unable to even pull the tab.

'….'

She probably looked just like Eve agonizing over the apple of knowledge.

"If you're shaking that much, just don't drink it, Sister Grace."

I stood up, approached the sofa, and reached out my hand.

"Hand it over. No need to force yourself. I bought it with my money anyway, so I'll drink both cans."

As my hand drew near, she flinched in surprise and yanked the can to her chest.

The motion tugged at her loose nun's habit once more. "N-No, don't take it!"

"…Don't take it? But you said you weren't going to drink it."

She mumbled in a mosquito-like voice, her flushed face buried low, as I spoke in disbelief.

"To be honest… I've had plenty of chances to drink stuff like this."

"Then why haven't you ever? Because of religious convictions?"

She shook her head at my question.

Her swaying purple hair sparkled mysteriously under the fluorescent light.

"I'm scared… I've never tried it."

"Scared of what?"

"Not that…."

Grace's cheeks burned red.

She added in a voice that sank lower, as if confessing some deeply embarrassing secret.

"M-My… my drunken behavior scares me."

"Your drunken behavior?"

"Yes…. What if I black out after drinking, cause trouble for people, or do something weird…. I'm a nun, after all. If I end up drunk and rowdy on the street, it would tarnish the church's reputation…. What if I start fights or something… ugh…."

I couldn't help but genuinely admire her as she shuddered at her own imagination.

She avoids alcohol because she's scared of her own drunken self.

I'd assumed it was due to some holy, ascetic doctrine.

"Sister Grace, you seem scared of a lot of things?"

"D-Don't tease me! I'm being serious!"

"Think of it as an experience."

I gestured lightly, encouraging her.

"The doctrine doesn't strictly forbid alcohol outright, does it? The Bible is full of passages about drinking wine. Just don't get blackout drunk. Take one sip, just taste it lightly."

I could see the agony of her inner conflict reaching its peak.

But her throat bobbed repeatedly, swallowing hard.

In the end, physical desire won out over reason.

With trembling hands, she hooked her index finger into the can's tab.

Chic, pop!

The can opened clumsily, white foam spilling out.

Grace squeezed her eyes shut and cautiously took a sip.

"Ugh…."

Her brows furrowed instantly. Tears welled up as she stuck out her tongue and grimaced.

"It tastes awful…. So bitter…. Why do people pay money for this crap?"

"Everyone thinks that at first. Honestly, I don't even like the taste. Now that you've tried it, stop there? Drinking more won't do your body any good."

Did my words sound like a challenge?

She smacked her lips, a strange stubbornness flaring up, and gripped the can tight for another sip.

Gulp.

This time, she swallowed a bigger gulp with a loud sound.

And right after that.

"…."

Thud.

Grace's head lolled forward.

As I startled and started to rise,

She slowly—very slowly—lifted her head from where it hung low and stood from the sofa.

"Um, Sister?"

She staggered like a zombie across the living room, dragged out the chair opposite my seat at the table, and plopped down.

Her face was flushed crimson from her white nape to her earlobes.

Her black eyes, half-lidded and glassy with moisture, stared out.

Hot breath leaked from between her moist red lips.

No way.

I couldn't help but be shocked. For real.

Did she get drunk off just two sips of beer?

Her alcohol tolerance was disastrously low.

Maybe that's why she'd avoided it all this time—she knew her own weakness?

Tap, tap, tap!

Grace, now seated across from me, began roughly slapping the table with her palms.

"Hey, Brother Lee Han!"

Her voice tone had completely changed. Her tongue slurred halfway, bold and brazen.

"Hurry up! You drink too, Brother Lee Han! Why are you acting all sober by yourself!"

She pointed accusingly at my can, throwing a tantrum.

"I've already finished mine. And you should stop, Sister. If two sips do this to you…."

I reached out to confiscate the beer can in front of her.

"Nooo! Don't take it! I'm gonna keep drinking! I'm getting wasted today!"

It was a childish whine.

Was this really the same ascetic nun who'd just lectured me about the "devil's brew"?

As that thought crossed my mind, Grace suddenly leaned forward over the table.

Up close, I caught the lavender scent wafting from her body mixed with the sharp booze smell.

"Y'know…."

She lowered her voice like she was sharing a secret.

"Lately at our church… it's just gross. Makes me sigh nonstop."

"You mean the youth group?"

"Yeah! Especially the guys! Not a single decent one like you, Brother Lee Han! None!"

She vented her frustration, swinging her fist at the air.

"They're all eyeing women like predators! Huh? Think I don't notice those sleazy stares? I see right through 'em!"

Women do notice stares, huh? I'd been guilty sometimes. Sorry.

"Ahem. My apologies."

"Huh? For what all of a sudden?"

"Nothing. Anyway… isn't our church a bit unusual?"

"Unusual how?"

I chose my words carefully.

"I mean, there are so many beautiful sisters. And religion tends to create a closed-off vibe. Most of them are innocent with no immunity to men."

Grace's eyes sparkled as she nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Exactly! Spot on! That's why!"

She clapped wildly, overly excited.

"If… hic! If you hadn't covered for me so solidly today, Brother Lee Han, I would've ended up in some disgusting situation! Big trouble!"

Her face mixed disgust from back then with relief toward me.

"Even during service today! We're there to volunteer, so why sneak up and grope like that? Seriously, if every guy in the church was like you, Brother Lee Han, I'd have no complaints!"

As Grace mumbled, I recalled the chaotic, unpleasant mess from the afternoon.

In the dusty old warehouse, Grace sweated buckets carrying heavy canned goods boxes.

That's when some thug who never showed at mass slunk up to her side.

He wore a gaudy shirt plastered with huge designer logos, hair slicked with wax.

Ignoring the volunteering, he tried grabbing her hand under the pretense of helping with the heavy load or resting his hand on her shoulder for blatant skinship.

I'd stepped in, dumbfounded.

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

-If you're here to volunteer, volunteer. Don't try any tricks.

That's roughly what I'd said to stop him.

Surprisingly, that alone set him off.

-Who the hell are you to butt in? You her boyfriend or something?!

-This is a sister. Watch your mouth. That's insulting to her.

The guy huffed and shoved my chest roughly.

I brushed off the spot on my shirt where his hand touched with loud pats.

His trigger was hair-thin; that was enough to make him lose it completely.

-You little shit!

He spat curses and swung a fist at my face.

To avoid being looked down on as an orphan, I'd started martial arts in middle school.

His punch was too slow for me.

I simply dodged and planted a counter into his jaw.

Thwack!

He crumpled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to the floor instantly.

"Thanks so much for today… Brother Lee Han."

She gazed up at me, slumped over the table.

"But are you really okay? You shattered that guy's jaw…."

I chuckled at her worried question.

"Don't worry. It'll be fine, no issues."

"But…."

"I already paid him a generous settlement and sent him packing."

"But… it happened because of me. Where'd you even get that kind of money…."

I've got plenty.

"I've got more money than you think. For real. You've seen it before, right?"

"Oh… that thing you did in middle school at church? Coding freelance or something…."

"Yep. I've made a ton since middle school, more than you realize."

"I just played around in middle school… you're incredible…."

Grace admired me, her eyes rippling strangely.

Gulp.

In the quiet living room, the sound of her dry swallow rang out loud.

And the next moment.

"…S-Sister?"

Grace suddenly brought the beer can to her lips and chugged it down in one go!

Gulp! Gulp! Gulp!

White ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠foam trailed down her red lips, wetting her white nape and collarbone.

"I told you not to do that."

I snatched the can away immediately.

But… Grace was already giggling vacantly at the air.

Perfectly, 100% gone.

"Haa… this is insane."

I sighed and rummaged through the fridge.

Luckily, a hangover remedy bottle with a tight expiration date rolled around in the back corner.

I grabbed it, returned to the table, and plunked it right under her nose.

"Drink this quick. Unless you want a splitting headache tomorrow morning."

At my words, Grace peeked up at me from where she was slumped, lifting only her head.

Her black eyes brimmed with thick dissatisfaction.

Haa.

I sighed inwardly and slyly pulled out my smartphone from my pocket.

What the hell is she thinking to act like that when she's drunk?

I unlocked the screen and tapped the Desire App icon in the corner of the home screen.

I stared at my phone. Then at Grace.

"…."

"…."

I slowly reached out, poked her cheek, and said,

"Sister."

She flinched and sent me a trembling gaze.