Only Natural
From the time we finished at the store until we got home, nothing like a real conversation passed between us. She knew better than anyone what she'd just said, and of course we hadn't bought the item in question either. Still—maybe I could call it a success at getting things back under control.
I loaded the groceries into the fridge one by one and muttered without turning my head.
"Why'd you pick out nothing but meat?"
A moment later, Baek Serin's voice drifted over, small, from where she was tidying the kitchen shelves.
"I've never actually eaten a meat dish you cooked."
"Whose fault is that? Somebody's been grazing on weeds her whole life."
"...Oh. Speaking of that. Do I still have to keep dieting?"
Maybe the embarrassment hadn't fully worn off. What came back was a quiet voice, nothing like her usual sharp edge.
Wondering what she meant, I turned. Serin had pinched a bit of her stomach between her index finger and thumb, as if she were trying to measure the fat. Even forcing it, there was barely anything to grab. Calling that a layer of fat felt wrong. Skin was closer.
"If you're that worried, we could go running together."
"Not that. I asked if I've gotten fat."
Ah. One of those exhausting questions. Have I changed? Don't I look like I've gained weight? The classic kind, where the answer was already decided.
Nothing good came to mind. Say she was pretty anyway, and she'd hear you got fat. Say she was skinny, and she'd sulk that I was lying. In the end I went back to stuffing groceries into the fridge and tossed a line out.
"If you wouldn't be embarrassed for someone else to touch it, then you haven't gained anything."
Thinking about it, there was no reason it had to be my standard. A little cowardly, maybe, but I'd handed the judgment off.
"...What is that supposed to mean? You want to touch it?"
"That's not what I meant. I just don't like it when someone's too skinny."
The fridge was done by then. I shut the door and looked over, and Serin closed the cabinet at the same time. She brushed a hand lightly over her stomach, then shot me a sideways glance.
"...Hey. Then do you want to touch it?"
"...Are you actually trying to bury me?"
Her lips moved a few times, then slowly parted, as if she'd made up her mind.
"No, honestly... a stomach is fine to touch."
So it hadn't been a joke.
I blinked, let out a short breath, and stepped toward her, keeping my pace as slow as I could. If the reluctance hit her late, she could still show it. I could stop whenever. And yet—maybe I should have expected it—Serin never stopped me, not to the end. I came to a halt right in front of her and looked down. Her eyes started darting, restless, like someone who didn't know what to do with herself.
"...H-hey... j-just... gently, okay?"
"...Say that where anyone can hear you and they'll get the wrong idea."
She was the one who'd said it was fine to touch. And I figured I'd given her plenty of chances to call it off.
I lifted the arm that had been hanging loose. Through the black T-shirt, gauging the spot, I poked her stomach with my index finger. She curled in at once and yelped.
"K—hey! I said touch it, not poke it!"
"So I can touch it?"
"...Y-yeah."
Once she gave permission, I tilted my palm and drew my hand slowly across, feeling for the area around her navel.
"Hhh... nn..."
A strange little sound slipped out of her. I don't know if unavoidable is the right word, but from this angle her chest blocked the view, so I couldn't tell exactly where I was. Even so, maybe I'd come too close.
She ducked her head at once, so I couldn't see her face, but the way her hair kept trembling said she was plenty mortified. I wanted to tease her so badly it burned. This was probably a moment to hold back.
I curled my fingers and tried to pinch some stomach between them and my palm. All I caught was T-shirt fabric. Which figured.
"Nn... ah..."
Serin flinched, a short breath escaping her. There was nothing left to check, so I took my hand away. Only then did she lift her head and look up at me, blinking nonstop, her lips working.
"...S-so? Am I fat?"
"No. Not at all."
All I'd grabbed was a scrap of cloth. Fat, my ass. Sure, if I forced it, skin would come up. Nobody calls that gaining weight.
Whether she'd finally taken in the situation or simply accepted it, the flush that had risen on her face began to settle.
"...Hey. Aren't you just staring at my chest?"
"Hey, that's all there is to see. What do you want me to do?"
Crouching wasn't an option. I could have just taken one step back. Why I'd gotten that close, even I didn't know. Not that I was in any position to complain. Male instinct. Something like that.
"...You like chests too?"
"..."
Was she actually reading my mind? Well, we'd known each other long enough that she could catch some of it. I didn't know. Still, that wasn't a question you asked a guy.
"Isn't that obvious?"
"..."
This time the silence belonged to Baek Serin. A sigh slipped out of me on its own. Topics like this wore me out. So I caught the tail of the conversation and twisted it somewhere else.
"Hey, let's go look at what we're buying."
"...Huh? Didn't we already buy everything?"
"We'll order it online."
"Sure. It's not like there's much difference."
Going out again was a pain, and bickering with Serin outside the apartment was worse than doing it here.
I checked her expression, then turned and headed for my room. No footsteps followed, but one presence did. Inside, I glanced at the computer chair and then at her. She just stared back, blank—the look that meant What? What is it? A moment later she seemed to catch on, letting out a short "Ah—." She started toward the chair, then stopped dead, as if she were turning something over. For a long while.
"...What are you doing?"
"There's only one chair. ...But there's a way we can both sit."
"...I don't think I like where this is going."
"I haven't even said what it is yet."
She didn't have to. It was obvious. She meant sitting on me. Even so, the physical objection was a little strong. Meaning my dick was absolutely going to start screaming.
Maybe she read that too. Serin grinned and dropped into the chair.
"Hey. You're just as embarrassed as I am."
"...I still haven't said anything."
Great. The boomerang came right back. How nice it would have been if we didn't know each other this well. Then whatever she said, I could have just thought What? and let it pass in silence.
She stared at my face, wearing a sly smile, and spun the chair. Even with her hand on the mouse she whipped her head around and looked at me again. Probably the same kind of look I'd just given her. I finally moved, came up beside her, and carefully set my hip on the armrest. She watched me, still blank, and then her lips parted.
"Hey, if you're gonna do that, wouldn't it be easier to just sit me on your lap?"
"You're heavy."
"...Hey—!! You just said I was fine!"
She shrieked out of nowhere. My ears rang. Fair enough, maybe. I'd only been deflecting, but it was the kind of thing that would sting.
"Sorry. It was a joke. Just look it up."
Serin pouted, let out a heavy sigh, and turned back to the monitor. She was ridiculously sensitive about gaining weight. Honestly, I didn't care either way. We were stuck together anyway. If she ever actually got fat, one word from me and she'd probably live on weeds for a while.
"How many inches should we get?"
"Dunno. Buy a small one. I don't really get TVs."
"If we're buying one, get a big one. It'll last longer that way."
"...Are you rich?"
I was planning to pay with my own money, but how many hours a day did anyone even watch TV? I didn't feel like wasting it.
Instead of answering, Serin shoved a hand into her pocket, tapped her phone a few times without a word, and thrust the screen in front of my face. Curious, I focused and stared. Her mother's name. And the zeros... Jesus.
"...What is this?"
"I don't know either."
Honestly, I'd been expecting something around five hundred dollars. And that was hardly a small amount either. Running a business must do that to a person. She was generous.
"You really ought to be good to your parents."
"Then you should too. You'll be calling her Mother-in-law before long."
"..."
I'd thrown it out casually, and it came back like that. She wasn't exactly wrong. Still, no matter how I turned it over, the feeling sat a little strange. I shook the thought off and blurted something else.
"...Haven't you ever thought about it? That I might be someone who doesn't fit you at all."
"If that were true, would we be doing this?"
Her answer came right on my heels. I opened my mouth again without much thought.
"They say at the start of a relationship, the person you like matches you on everything. Then you get married, and it cools off, little by little."
Click. Click...
Serin's finger, scrolling down, stopped. Her eyes were still on the monitor, but she hadn't even searched for a TV yet.
"Hey. Doesn't that sound weird?"
"What does?"
Tap. Tap—
She drummed the mouse with a fingernail, then slowly turned her head. Her face was dry, almost no emotion showing, and she looked up at me steadily.
"We're already matching each other."
"I guess we are."
We didn't even think about it anymore. By now it was habit, the way we fit ourselves to each other.
"Then all we have to do is like each other, right?"
"...Right?"
Blink. The eyelids that had been locked on me closed once and opened again. Her eyes stayed on me. Blink. This time I was the one who shut my eyes and opened them. Serin's expression still hadn't changed. Then her lips parted, just slightly, and a quiet voice slipped out.
She said it flatly. Not embarrassed, the way she'd been a moment ago, and not angry either. As if it were simply obvious.
Then again, maybe effort didn't mean much for us. We didn't have to be conscious of it. For us, this was just natural.
A little ticklish.