From Teacher to Oppa — The Promise (1)
Miho sent me a DM the very next day.
We traded messages about how we'd been, how glad she was to run into me on the street, how she was in college now—and then she asked me to buy her a drink.
The way she'd looked that day, the posts on her Instagram—it all came flooding back, and I found myself wondering if there might be a chance.
"Sure. There's a new place on the second floor of that building we saw downtown—OO. Want to grab a drink there tomorrow?"
I swear, I had my hopes—but I wasn't going out with any intention of making a move on Miho. It was just a maybe. Looking at her Instagram and the way she'd appeared when we reunited, maybe she'd transformed from the demure girl she used to be into someone more provocative. And maybe, through her, I might get introduced to other fun friends. That was about the extent of it.
Wanting to make a good impression, I asked Dong-min hyung for a nicer private room and had him stock it with whiskey.
"And a girl will be coming by later. Show her to this room, will you?"
"Oh, a girl? What's this?"
Dong-min hyung's sly grin made me wave him off.
"It's not like that. Just someone I know."
"Come on. A man and a woman drinking alone in a private room—and it's not like that? The great Park Hyun-soo?"
"I'm serious. We just ran into each other after a long time and I wanted to catch up. If we drank outside and caught COVID, I'd never hear the end of it at work."
"If you need anything, just say the word. This hyung will provide clean backup fire!"
"Haha. Got it. Thanks."
"Hey, look at this guy! You said it wasn't like that—so why would you need backup?"
On a quiet weekday evening, Dong-min hyung and I bantered across the empty counter. Then the door opened and Miho walked in.
"Teacher!"
"Hey, you made it."
Miho smiled brightly at the sight of me. Her outfit was every bit as striking as the one from a few days before.
Beneath a white tweed jacket, she wore a black ribbed T-shirt that clung to her body. The neckline plunged in a deep U from her throat down past the upper curve of her breasts, leaving her cleavage fully on display. Below, she had on a black tulip skirt that looked like a matching set, with nude stockings. The black high heels lengthened her already long legs so much that I half expected a glimpse of what lay beneath the skirt. Her makeup featured a heavy eyeliner that lifted the corners of her eyes, giving her the look of a seductive cat.
In a word—
She looked hot.
"Well, well, welcome! Now I see why Hyun-soo asked me to take good care of you. What a beauty!"
Dong-min hyung looked her up and down, greeting her with that easy, cheeky smile of his.
"Ah, this is a hyung I'm close with. He owns the place."
"Oh, hello."
"Hello there. We'll take good care of you tonight—so put in a good word for the place, yeah?"
"Miho, I've still got something to finish with hyung. Mind heading in first?"
Watching her walk away—seven-centimeter heels clicking, hips swaying—I couldn't help overlaying the image with that Instagram photo of her in a string bikini by the pool. A heavy heat settled low in my body.
The moment I sent her into the room, Dong-min hyung jabbed me in the ribs.
"What… what is this…"
"What do you mean, what. I told you—just someone I know."
"That's not 'just someone you know' level. You can tell just by looking, right? That face is no joke."
"I'm telling you it's not. She was a student I tutored for a few months years ago. We ran into each other in front of this place a few days back. She asked me to buy her a drink, so I am."
Dong-min hyung grinned at my answer.
"Ahhh, is that so? Then why not just go to some ordinary bar? Why specifically come to my place?"
He'd hit the nail on the head.
Why indeed… Why, when there were plenty of ordinary bars, had I specifically chosen Dong-min hyung's place with its private rooms? And gone so far as to prepare whiskey?
Dong-min hyung patted my shoulder and nodded as if he understood everything.
"Don't worry. Hyung will set the stage just right—you just relax and drink."
"I keep telling you it's not like that…"
I laughed as I answered, but the truth was his offer to set things up had me quietly hopeful. He was the type who knew how to party—maybe something would actually happen thanks to him. And yet, at the same time, I was worried.
"Hyung, don't do anything weird. I used to teach her, remember."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't worry. I'll handle the intensity myself. I'm quick on the uptake. I know what you're saying, what you're worried about—so stop fretting. Go on in."
He gave me a shove between the shoulder blades and nodded.
The room was compact—barely two pyeong—with dim blue lighting. A circular glass table sat at the center, ringed by a curved sofa that could seat about six if they squeezed in. I took the seat across from Miho, who was already waiting.
Sitting across from her, I could see her legs through the glass table. They stretched out long and slender like a model's—crane-like, without a scrap of excess flesh—and she kept them neatly together. The skirt was short to begin with, and the tulip cut rose even higher in front; the sofa sat a little lower than her legs, so her knees were slightly raised. If I leaned forward at all, I was sure I'd catch a glimpse of the space between her thighs beneath the skirt.
I suppressed the urge to look and forced my gaze up to her face.
"Wow, this place is nice. I had no idea it was here."
"Hyung opened it not long ago. Spread the word to your friends. If you say I sent you, free drinks might be a stretch, but the service will be solid."
"Ooh~ Teacher's doing well for himself?"
She laughed at my banter.
"You meet people here and there once you're out in the working world. Looking at your Instagram, though—you're the one who's really doing well."
"I've gotten prettier, haven't I?"
She propped her chin in both hands and fluttered her eyes, putting on a cute act. I couldn't help the fond smile that spread across my face.
"Yeah. Your whole vibe's changed a lot… You look good."
"I'm an adult now, you know. Hehehe. Let's drink. You're buying today, right?"
"Yeah. It's been a while, so I put a little thought into it."
I picked up the Ballantine's 17-year from the table and poured her a glass. Dong-min hyung would give me a discount, right?
"Wow, isn't this expensive?"
Expensive? It sure was.
What psychology had driven me to order this expensive liquor in the first place? On top of that, though I hadn't told Miho or Dong-min hyung, I'd already put in for leave tomorrow. Was it the thin comfort of not wanting to suffer a hangover at work? The urge to look impressive in front of someone I hadn't seen in ages? The desire to look good in front of a beautiful woman? Or the hope of getting her drunk enough to create some kind of opening? Whatever the mix of motives, the whiskey seemed to have won her favor. As a college student, she couldn't have had much experience with something like Ballantine's—yet she sipped what I poured without complaint.
As our glasses went back and forth, Miho grew more talkative, and her posture began to loosen little by little.
With every round, I could clearly see her getting drunk. Me—I'd been known as a heavy drinker even in college, and company life had me dragged to old-school drinking sessions with the senior crowd, so I was buzzed but still clear-headed. She, on the other hand, was visibly loosening up. The legs she'd kept pressed together began to part slightly, and when she switched which leg was crossed over the other, she grew less careful about it.
"But seriously, Miho—I'm not just saying it. You've really gotten beautiful."
Borrowing a little courage from the alcohol, I steered the conversation that way.
"Tch, so I wasn't pretty before?"
"That's not what I meant—there's a mature beauty to you now."
"You've gotten a bit cooler too, Teacher."
"Me? I'm just an old man now. But you, Miho—you've really grown into your name."
"I am pretty sexy, aren't I? Hehe. And you in a suit—you're totally different from when you were a college student."
"Ah, drop the 'Teacher' already."
"Then what should I call you? Hmm~~ Oppa? Hehehe."
"Call me that instead. If you keep saying Teacher, Teacher, people will get the wrong idea."
"Oppa?"
Suddenly she called me Oppa, stood up from her seat, and thrust her face right up to mine. From the way she moved, she was clearly drunk.
When was the last time I'd talked with a twenty-two-year-old ten years my junior? And been called Oppa, no less… This wasn't the practiced coquetry of a hostess—this was a regular beauty's playful Oppa, and it definitely made my heart race.
And that wasn't all. As she leaned her upper body toward me, her cleavage unfolded right before my eyes. Natural, without a doubt—the upper curves of both breasts pressed snugly together, forming a deep valley.
She must have noticed my eyes drifting to her chest, because she gave a bashful little smile and sat back down in her seat.