The Runaway's Desperate Embrace
The scraping sound of chopsticks against the bowl bottom stopped.
The girl had devoured a full bowl of jjajangmyeon in the blink of an eye, now fidgeting awkwardly with just the tips of her chopsticks, embarrassed.
Her neatly braided hair fell primly over her apricot-tinted cheeks, freshly washed.
"Let me see your hand."
At my words, the girl flinched and looked up.
Her gaze traveled from my hand to her own wrist.
Peeking out from the frayed sleeve of her old hoodie were red scrape marks and dark bruises.
The girl hurriedly tugged her sleeve down and hunched her body.
"No, it's fine. Really."
"Stay still."
I grabbed her slender wrist like a hawk snatching prey, gripping it tight.
The bones felt so fragile in my palm, as if they might snap.
The girl swallowed a short scream, her body trembling.
She strained to pull away, but my firm grip held her arm immobile.
"It... it hurts...."
Without answering, I smeared cold ointment on my finger and rubbed it over the wounds.
Terror lingered in the girl's eyes.
Only then, warmed by the gentle touch on her injuries, did she relax.
Her face twisted into a strange mix of fear and relief.
"It's late today, so stay the night. Go home tomorrow."
I tossed the words out curtly after finishing the treatment.
The girl nodded faintly without a word.
I headed straight to the bedroom.
Hesitant footsteps trailed behind.
As I opened the door and stepped in, the girl followed me inside.
I snorted and shoved her away.
"I'm not enough of a pushover to give up my bed. You sleep on the living room sofa."
I pushed her shoulders, forcing her out the door, and shut it.
Lying there, I closed my eyes to the sound of her tossing and turning in the narrow living room.
Night turned to day in an instant.
The aroma of baking bread and bitter coffee tickled my nose.
Bright sunlight already streamed through the window cracks.
In the living room, toast and two cups of coffee sat on the table.
"You're awake?"
The grubby girl from yesterday was gone.
Wearing my baggy T-shirt and an apron, she looked surprisingly domestic.
"Digging through my fridge like it's your house?"
I sat down, scolding her lightly.
The girl bit her lip, unsure what to do.
I took a bite of the toasted bread.
The crisp texture and perfectly melted butter were excellent.
"Not bad. You can cook."
Only then did her face brighten.
After breakfast, I put on a movie on the living room TV.
She hesitated, then perched on the far end of the sofa beside me, peeking at the screen.
Time to wrap up the savior act.
"You've eaten, slept, gotten fucked—when are you leaving?"
The air, filled only with movie sounds, chilled instantly at my question.
The girl's face visibly darkened.
She cracked her knuckles, mumbling in a low voice.
"Nowhere to go."
I stood, grabbed her ratty bag from the dining chair.
She panicked and lunged to snatch it back.
I lightly pushed her chest away and pulled out her wallet.
A faded card slipped out.
A child welfare card.
"Kim Min-seo. 20 years old. Out of the facility, huh?"
Min-seo bowed her head deeply at my question.
A self-reliant youth tossed into society the moment protection ended.
A halting story spilled from Min-seo's lips.
Scammed out of her government independence fund.
Wandering the streets with nowhere to go—a clichéd but miserable tale.
Tears welled in her eyes.
Her trembling lips hesitated long before squeezing out one phrase.
"Just let me sleep here... I'll do anything."
The first kindness she'd felt since leaving the facility.
If she was going to be used anyway, better this man, she thought.
At least she could console herself that she'd chosen it.
Her bony fingers clenched white.
I gripped her chin and lifted it.
Her terrified, quivering eyes met mine.
"You know what 'anything' means to an adult man, right?"
Min-seo shuddered faintly, as if a foul memory surfaced.
But she squeezed her eyes shut and nodded slowly, deliberately.
I stepped close, leaned down, and lightly pulled her into my arms.
Trapped against me, Min-seo's body shook like a leaf in the wind.
Through her thin T-shirt, her rapid heartbeat thudded against my chest.
"Shaking like this—who'd want that? Practice smiling first."
Min-seo looked up at me with frightened eyes.
I held her chin, tilting it up, and gave a light smile.
One meal wouldn't save her.
I took her outside.
Under the department store's bright lights, she trailed me like a guilty sinner, shoulders hunched.
I picked out a dress that suited her and some makeup.
Each time the stiff new collar brushed her nape, Min-seo flinched and trembled.
Every swipe of the card shattered the silence, making her pupils quiver.
Relief at rescue from dire poverty.
Shame of becoming someone's property, like a slave.
Complex emotions crossed her face.
Back home, she took the makeup I'd bought into the bathroom.
Moments later, she emerged into the living room, makeup done.
Neat brows, lightly rouged cheeks.
Her youthful beauty stood out sharply.
"Pretty."
At my praise, Min-seo's lips quivered faintly.
Soon, she gave a shy smile.
I brushed my hand along her cheek.
"Remember that smile."
Min-seo touched her mouth with her fingers.
Yet she couldn't tear her eyes from me.
For her, salvation wasn't freedom or independence.
Like an infant craving the comfort of swaddling bonds.
She yearned for total domination and control.
A tingle shot down my spine.
I had earned the right to utterly ravage this pitiful creature.
Night deepened.
The sound of water leaking from the bathroom stopped.
Silence settled over the cramped apartment.
Min-seo stood before the shower room mirror, slipping on the black lingerie Hyun-ja had bought her.
Thin lace perched precariously on her pale skin.
She stared at her reflection, exhaling deeply.
The only valuable thing she owned was this scrawny body.
That's what street survival instincts told her.
Min-seo brushed her cheek in the mirror once, then left the bathroom.
Her fingertips trembled as she opened the bedroom door.
Stepping inside, she felt Hyun-ja's gaze from where he lounged against the bed.
Goosebumps prickled every inch of skin his eyes touched, like electric currents zipping through.
"Gonna sleep in clothes?"
Hyun-ja's indifferent question made Min-seo's shoulders twitch.
Without answering, she peeled off the new outer clothes with shaking hands.
They fell limply to the floor.
Her body, clad only in flashy lingerie, stood exposed in the air.
Hyun-ja smiled faintly, lifting one side of the blanket.
"Come here."
Like metal to a magnet, Min-seo climbed onto the bed and lay beside him.
The blanket's warmth enveloped her skin, but her tension didn't ease.
She held her breath, waiting for his touch.
But he made no move.
He simply stared at the ceiling, maintaining the quiet stillness.
'I said I don't like women who tremble like this.'
Hyun-ja's voice from earlier echoed in her mind.
Fear surged.
Doubt that he might not be interested in her body.
That doubt hardened into certainty that this wasn't a transaction, but one-sided pity.
Pity was fickle.
If he changed his mind tomorrow, she'd be back on those cold cement stairs.
Min-seo cautiously extended her hand under the blanket.
She slipped her fingers between her thighs.
But the touch was chillingly dry and rough.
Her tensed body produced not a drop of wetness, parched as bone-dry earth.
The cracked, arid flesh rasped against her knuckles.
'No. If it's this dry...'
Desperation overpowered shame.
Eyes squeezed shut, she began touching herself.
A sight she'd die before showing anyone.
Yet she yearned for the man beside her to notice this pathetic effort—a cruel contradiction.
The more she moved, the faint scraping of dry skin friction echoed softly under the covers.
Shards of her crumbling self dissolved into hot tears streaming down her cheeks.
Disgust at herself—lying next to a stranger, desperately wetting her only commodity—but she couldn't stop.
The harder she forced her fingers, the more her eyes lost focus and shook.
Fear of being cast back to the streets the moment she stopped drove her hand on.
"Hic, ugh...."
Finally, stifled sobs leaked out.
Hyun-ja turned to look at her.
Min-seo clung to him, face wet with tears.
"Hold me... please, don't throw me away."
Hyun-ja reached out, wiping the tears from her cheek.
Then, in a low, deep voice, he asked,
"What do you want?"
"Rape me... I'll do my best, really. Anything you say."
Min-seo begged, burrowing into his chest.
Hyun-ja felt a strange disgust at the street girl's blatant survival ploy.
He stared down at her for a long moment.
Times when he'd pondered the meaning of "salvation" flickered through his mind.
He took a condom from the nightstand and tore the wrapper.
The crinkling plastic shattered the silence.
Watching Hyun-ja put it on, Min-seo finally felt relief.
Her parched insides responded to the physical ritual confirming the deal, beginning to moisten.