Phase 3. Mom Gyeong-ae (6)
In truth, unless it was some part-time job or odd bit of work, there were only two reasons I ever officially left the house.
Going to class, or going to tutor.
Today I had neither.
That meant I could sleep in and lounge around the house all day if I wanted.
“Haa.”
I let out a sigh for what must have been the hundredth time.
I hadn’t slept properly all night; the hours had simply bled away inside a fog of restless unease. Trauma and every other worry kept cycling through my head.
Hee-kyung’s back.
That small, delicate back that had planted a bitter memory in me.
The cause had been my own inability to rein in a single moment of desire, but miserable was still miserable. Under her hand I’d made high-pitched, girlish sounds and blasted two weeks of pent-up cum into the empty bathroom air like a pair of missiles, climaxing hard—only to have her furious sneer piled on top of it. Even the “lube” had been my own semen from the previous orgasm.
It was shameful. Humiliating.
I could still hear Hee-kyung’s mocking laughter from that day as clearly as if it were happening now.
‘Ahahahaha! What the hell is this, ahahaha! That’s so fucking funny!’
Wait… that wasn’t right. That laughter hadn’t come from when I pounced on her and got wrecked in return.
It had been earlier.
As a reward for holding out two weeks she had sucked me once—literally one quick suck—and the instant her mouth left me I’d twitched and finished all by myself. That was when she burst out laughing.
Strange.
I’d thought the shame came from attacking her and getting reverse-toured so thoroughly. Thinking carefully, though, that wasn’t it. The empty reward of two wasted weeks? The humiliation of getting owned after I started it? There seemed to be a connection, yet I couldn’t put my finger on exactly why I felt this way. The clue hovered just out of reach; I gave up chasing it.
I felt like I’d burned through every brain cell I had and come up with nothing. Gyeong-jun, with that analytical mind of his, probably could have charted the whole thing like a stock graph and forced out an answer. But I couldn’t exactly ask the guy who was currently lost in some pig of a girl. Even without the pig, the subject itself was one I could never bring up.
“Mmm…”
Hee-kyung stirred against my chest. Long lashes that were visible even with the naked eye followed the curve of her closed lids. Straight, long hair that only curled naturally at the very tips. Our Hee-kyung—usually so sharp-edged because we were siblings, yet every so often she would show that soft, caring side of a lover that made my heart race even harder.
That was exactly why the trauma felt so cruel, and why I felt so pathetic for being weak.
“Haa.”
Another sigh. At this rate I’d sigh all my luck away. Still, if I didn’t let at least a little of it out, there was no way to shake off even a fraction of the weight sitting on my chest.
Knock knock.
“…?”
Had I just heard a knock?
Knock knock knock.
“Gyeong-hun, you sleeping~?”
Mom.
Thankfully she only knocked and didn’t open the door. If she had walked in right then, the blanket wouldn’t have been enough to hide the fact that we were naked and wrapped around each other. Grateful for small mercies, I answered in a low voice so Hee-kyung wouldn’t wake.
“No, I’m up.”
“And Hee-kyung~?”
Her firmly shut eyelids and even breathing told me she was still deep under.
“She’s nowhere near waking.”
“Then let’s eat together, just the two of us. She always gets up late anyway.”
“Yeah, okay.”
I’d spent so long turning my worries over that my stomach had finally started growling. Outside the window was still a pale blue; it couldn’t have been much past dawn, but luckily Mom had gotten breakfast ready early.
“Wash up and come to the kitchen~.”
“Got it.”
The whispered exchange ended. I carefully slid my arm out from under Hee-kyung and replaced it with a pillow. Her head lifted slightly and she frowned in her sleep, but the moment I laid her down and stroked her hair the tension melted away.
Hadn’t this girl sworn yesterday that she would take care of my breakfast herself? Still, I was happy enough that she had even said it. I got up.
Click.
I opened the door just wide enough for my body to slip through—and froze.
“Huh?”
Just now Mom and I had been whispering through the closed door and heard each other perfectly clearly. A little muffled, sure, but every syllable had been distinct.
The moment I realized how thin the soundproofing in this house actually was, last night’s memory slammed into me: Hee-kyung’s moans loud enough to shake the walls.
“Oh, shit… no way…”
Goosebumps raced down my spine.
As always, the kitchen smelled of cooking. Three soft-yolked fried eggs, dried-pollack soup, kimchi, namul—more than five side dishes again.
“I’ll help.”
She was still setting the table, so I pitched in: scooping rice, laying out spoons and chopsticks.
“Oh my, Gyeong-hun, why so little rice today~?”
“No appetite. It’s morning…”
I’d only taken half a bowl—completely unlike me—and Mom noticed instantly. I gave the most ordinary excuse I could think of and set the bowl down. Weirdly, while I’d been lying in bed I’d felt ravenous, yet the second I stepped into the kitchen and smelled the food my appetite vanished. A lead weight seemed to have settled in my stomach; I almost felt queasy.
“Thanks for the meal.”
“Eat a lot~.”
Mom sat beside me as a matter of course, tore one fried egg neatly in half, and placed it on my rice.
“Here.”
The yolk burst and ran between the grains. I managed only a sparrow’s-tear amount of rice into my mouth. Even chewing the side dishes, I could barely taste anything. I was just mechanically aware that I was grinding fiber between my teeth.
“Haa.”
Another sigh. The hopelessness was already sitting in my gut; nothing wanted to go down.
“Gyeong-hun, did something happen? You’re not even eating…”
“It’s just morning…”
“I thought you’d be starving after working so hard last night, so I made extra side dishes…”
I flinched. At those loaded words I stopped my spoon and looked at her.
Mom was watching me steadily, smiling. But there was no maternal warmth in that smile.
Our eyes held for a moment; then her face flushed and she demurely lowered her gaze.
“If you stare that hard it makes me shy.”
As if heat really had risen, she pressed the back of her hand to her cheek and fanned herself lightly.
“Our Gyeong-hun is such a handsome man that if I keep looking my heart pounds so hard~.”
“Pfft… hahahahaha!”
I couldn’t hold it in and cracked up. Luckily I’d already swallowed, so nothing flew across the table.
Handsome. Truly a word I’d never heard from anyone except Mom. Not from people around me, not even from Hee-kyung.
“Why are you laughing~!”
“It’s only because you’re my mom that I look good to you.”
Still, the last fortress held, and that made me quietly glad. If even Mom had worn a face of quiet resignation, the psychological damage would have been catastrophic. Wait—if I ever took a shock that big, something like “the face Mom finally gave up on,” wouldn’t the whole Hee-kyung trauma just evaporate? Bigger problem, smaller problem, right?
While I was entertaining that stupid, childish thought, Mom—clearly miffed—dragged her chair closer. Looking at me with open dissatisfaction, she carefully cupped my face in both hands and began examining every feature.
“Not a single blemish.”
Her thumb traced from my forehead down past my eyes, nose, lips, all the way to my chin, caressing me almost playfully.
“Deep-set eyes, high nose bridge. Lips are nice and red too. Especially the eyes—they’re really well made. Looking into them feels like I’ll get sucked right in.”
She rated each feature one by one, then nodded in satisfaction.
“Yes! Our Gyeong-hun is truly handsome!”
“Haha.”
I laughed weakly. Then:
“I’m serious.”
Mom’s face drew nearer.
First close enough that I could hear her breathing.
Next close enough to feel her breath.
Finally close enough that our lips might brush if either of us moved wrong.
“Heut…”
Her eyes looking into mine seemed to melt. She swallowed, staring as if entranced—then
“Hat…!”
She startled herself and pulled back.
“See…? Handsome enough that even Mom gets pulled in without realizing.”
“Uh… yeah…”
Out of sheer awkwardness I just agreed. Belatedly embarrassed, Mom tucked her hair behind her ear, looked away, then couldn’t stop herself from stealing another sidelong glance. The moment our eyes met she flinched, turned her head, and fussed with her clothes for no reason—every inch the shy twenty-something girl. With her already youthful face it was even more striking.
“Shall we finish eating?”
Unable to bear the awkwardness any longer, she giggled first and offered the olive branch. Feeling lighter myself, I stuffed a big piece of fried egg into my mouth. Half a bowl didn’t last long; the bottom showed almost immediately.
“Want more?”
“Yeah.”
Once I managed to push thoughts of Hee-kyung aside for a moment, my appetite came back—annoying as that was—but there was no reason to feel guilty just for eating rice.
“Here—ah?”
“What?”
“Chili powder on the corner of your lip.”
“This side?”
“Just a second~.”
She pulled a tissue and gently dabbed my lip clean.
“There. Perfect.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome~.”
I hated to admit it, but being with Mom was easier on my heart than being with Hee-kyung. Easier than constantly reading Hee-kyung’s mood and waiting for permission before I was allowed to touch her. Mom simply accepted me, smiled at me, and sometimes played cute little pranks that were childish yet somehow endearing. Conversation with her just… flowed.
“Have another fried egg~. I made two for you from the start.”
She cracked another yolk over my rice. These tiny gestures, these small kindnesses that warmed me from the inside—Mom did them for me constantly.
Hee-kyung… I wasn’t sure. Lately she seemed to be trying to do more, but none of it lasted more than a day, so there wasn’t much to judge.
Thinking of her made my chest heavy again.
Honestly, I was getting tired.
Skinship had simply turned into sex; everything else stayed the same. Come home, watch Hee-kyung’s face, wait until she allowed it, then suck and lick. The daily routine from before we started dating hadn’t changed at all. Sure, she acted cute, said she loved me, got possessive—but whenever I actually wanted something it felt like she was only smiling at me from far away. Even in the moments she was curled up in my arms.
Hell, could I even hug her first if I wanted to?
My mouth tasted bitter; my chest felt tight.
So—
“Mom.”
“Hm?”
Asking an adult when you’re stuck like this isn’t wrong, is it?
“I’ve got something on my mind.”
“Aha~.”
Mom’s eyes turned sly, almost exactly the way Hee-kyung’s did.
“It’s that friend’s romance story again, isn’t it~?”
Even someone as dense as me understood by now. We were all sitting behind a screen thinner than a single layer of cloth, carefully never speaking the truth out loud. Everyone already knew how everyone else felt and what had happened; we just refused to say that we knew. That was why I was willing to keep up this ridiculous farce if it meant I could finally spill some of the pressure inside.
“The one about the girl who still puts up an iron wall even after she did siofuki for the guy~?”
I was clearly asking for advice… so why did it sound exactly like two people the same age whispering dirty secrets to each other? Was that just my imagination?