Filling the Void
Serin is on top of me.
Her knees catch on the edge of the mattress.
She doesn't care.
She just moves.
It's different from the first time.
The first time, there was hesitation.
She asked with her eyes.
Are you okay?
Now, she doesn't ask.
She lowers her hips.
Raises them.
At her own pace.
With her own weight.
Her hands rest on my chest.
Her fingers dig in.
"Ha—"
She lets out a short breath.
Her mouth stays open.
Her phone rings.
It's on the table.
It's Serin's.
The screen lights up, then goes dark.
Serin doesn't look.
Her hips sink down, then rise again.
A rhythm takes shape.
I watch her.
Her collarbones are slick with sweat.
Her neck is long.
Her light brown hair spills down.
Serin sweeps her hair back with one hand.
Her gaze drops.
She looks at me.
"Taeyoon."
Her voice is low.
The vowels drag.
"Look at me," I say.
The corners of Serin's mouth curl up.
It isn't a smile.
It's something else.
Her hips sink even deeper.
"Ugh—"
Serin doesn't stop.
The phone rings again.
The vibration rattles against the table.
Twice.
Three times.
Serin's fingers press harder into my chest.
Her nails dig in.
Not gently.
"Ah—ah—"
Her breath hitches.
Catches.
Hitches again.
I reach for Serin's waist.
I hold her.
Matching her rhythm.
Serin's breathing falters.
"Like that—"
She can't finish the sentence.
Her thighs tense.
I can feel it.
Serin shifts her angle on her own.
Leaning slightly forward.
Going deeper.
Serin swallows a sharp moan.
"Mnh—"
The phone screen lights up again.
Serin glances at it.
Then she looks back at me.
Her hand doesn't reach for the table.
She doesn't stop moving.
"You can turn it off," I say.
Serin shakes her head.
"No."
Short.
Definite.
Her hips sink down again.
Serin reaches out.
She takes my hand.
She laces her fingers through mine.
Interlocking them.
Both hands.
She pins them down against the mattress.
Her weight shifts onto them.
Serin leans her upper body down.
Her face is close.
"Don't move."
It's a whisper.
Spoken right by my ear.
I stay still.
Serin moves.
She squeezes our interlocked fingers tighter.
Her nails press against the back of my hands.
Digging in.
Serin's forehead rests against the side of my neck.
"Haah—haah—"
Her breath brushes my neck.
It's hot.
Serin's hips roll slightly.
Tracing a circle.
The rhythm changes.
It's no longer just up and down.
She's grinding from deep within.
Serin presses her forehead harder into my neck.
Her hair drapes over my face.
The phone cries out again.
A long one this time.
A call.
The vibration is relentless.
Serin lifts her head.
She looks at the screen.
Just for a second.
Then she buries her forehead back into my neck.
"Ah—ngh—"
The call cuts off.
Serin's movements quicken.
Her grip on my hands tightens further.
The backs of my hands sting.
Serin doesn't notice.
Or she knows and doesn't care.
"Serin."
I call her name.
"Yeah—"
Her reply cuts short.
Her breath splinters.
"Ngh—ah—"
Her thighs spasm.
She tries to stop, but can't.
She grinds down even harder.
"Ha—ha—Taeyoon—"
I squeeze her interlocked hands tighter.
Serin's breath hitches sharply.
Serin sits up.
Our fingers untangle.
Her hands move to my chest.
She straightens her back.
Her hair spills down, framing her face like a curtain.
Only her silhouette is visible in the darkness.
Serin looks down at me.
Her movements don't stop.
She picks up speed.
"Taeyoon—"
She calls out.
I listen.
Serin pauses.
A moment.
Another moment.
"No."
Her voice is low.
She mutters to herself.
Her eyes drop.
"Taeyoon."
This time, she's certain.
She moves again.
[Target: Yoon Serin]
[Current Detected Response]
• Irregular breathing • Pulse maintaining peak
• Obsession detected: +22% (Compared to baseline)
[Taeyoon's Emotional Memory]
• "This woman likes it when I watch her."
It's my son's memory.
Brief.
A single flash.
Then gone.
I am not my son right now.
But this body is my son's.
The distinction doesn't matter right now.
Serin's hips sink down again.
Something else is more important.
"Taeyoon—"
Serin calls out again.
Even lower than before.
More drawn out.
"Yeah," I answer.
Serin's eyelids flutter shut.
Half-closed.
Her mouth parts.
It doesn't close.
"Taeyoon—ngh—"
The phone rings again.
Twice.
A message.
Serin doesn't look.
She had no intention of looking from the start.
Her hands press into my chest.
Harder.
Her nails sink deep.
"Ah—ah—ha—"
Her hips move fast.
She has no intention of stopping.
I place my hands on Serin's waist.
I don't grip her.
I just leave them there.
Serin feels them.
She quickens her pace even more.
"Ngh—Taeyoon—Taeyoon—"
Her breath splinters.
She can't catch it.
It hitches.
It hitches again.
"Ah—ah—"
Serin's hands tremble.
Against my chest.
Her nails sink even deeper.
I can feel it.
Serin doesn't notice.
Sounds escape from her throat.
She doesn't try to hold them back.
"Ngh—ah—haah—"
Her hips sink down.
Locking in place.
Her movements grow shallower.
Fast.
Sweat beads on Serin's forehead.
Her collarbones are drenched.
Her head throws back.
Once.
"Ah—"
A long, drawn-out cry.
And then, she stops.
Climax.
Serin's body goes rigid.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
Her fingers tremble against my chest.
Her knees press hard into the mattress.
Her head tilts back even further.
Her hair cascades down.
"Ngh—ah—"
Her voice cracks.
It sounds almost like a sob.
No.
It's something else.
Serin collapses.
Bit by bit.
Slowly.
Her hips slump onto my stomach.
Her upper body slumps forward.
Her forehead rests against my chest.
Her hair spills everywhere.
Her breathing fills the room.
"Haah—haah—haah—"
Rapid.
But steady now.
I place my hand on Serin's back.
I don't say a word.
Serin's back rises and falls.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
The phone cries out again.
"Turn it off," Serin says.
I reach out.
I grab the phone from the table.
It's Serin's.
The screen is lit.
It's a message.
I see a name.
I don't look closely.
I switch it to silent.
I place it face down under the table.
Serin's back slowly settles.
Serin rolls off me.
She slides down from on top of me.
She lies down by my side.
She rests her cheek against my chest.
One of her hands rests on my chest.
Light.
Still.
I look up at the ceiling.
I hear Serin's breathing.
It gradually slows.
Her inhales grow longer.
Her exhales even out.
"Taeyoon."
"Yeah."
"I..."
She doesn't finish.
I don't ask, either.
Serin's fingers twitch slightly.
Against my chest.
And then they stop.
I smell her hair.
It's floral.
It still lingers.
Amidst the scent of sweat.
It's quiet.
Serin lets out a soft sigh.
It's not a moan.
Just a sound.
Pure relaxation.
Serin slowly drifts off to sleep.
Not all at once.
Her breathing slows.
Once.
Twice.
Settling into a steady rhythm.
The weight of her hand on my chest shifts.
Going from light to heavy.
The dead weight of someone asleep.
Her hair spreads out.
Just a silhouette in the dark.
My hand remains on Serin's back.
I don't move.
I listen to her breathing.
Steady.
Slow.
I don't know how much time has passed.
Serin remains motionless, her face buried in my chest.
Her breath is long and even.
The room is dark.
It's dark outside the window, too.
Somewhere, a dog barks once and then goes quiet.
Silence returns.
I stare at the ceiling.
Sleep doesn't come.
Of course it doesn't.
Serin's breathing gradually grew shallower.
Her body stirred slightly.
I felt it, but stayed still.
She opened her eyes.
Neither of us said a word.
We did nothing.
Just the ceiling, the darkness, and our shallow breaths.
"...What time is it?"
"A little past five."
The phone screen lit up briefly, then died.
Serin slowly sat up.
The blanket slipped down.
She swept her hair back with one hand and sat there in silence for a moment.
Her bare back.
Her shoulders.
I watched her from where I lay.
Serin wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and stood up from the edge of the bed.
Clothes lay scattered across the floor.
Serin bent down to pick them up one by one.
Her underwear first.
Then her blouse.
She slipped her arms through the sleeves with her back turned to me.
The curve of her neck was visible even in the pitch-black room.
She picked up her skirt and pulled it over her hips.
Her hands were practiced.
Like someone who was no stranger to getting dressed in an unfamiliar room.
She stepped into the bathroom.
The sound of running water echoed briefly.
The door opened again.
She looked perfectly put together.
Even at this hour.
I got up.
I pulled up my sweatpants and threw on a T-shirt.
I followed Serin as she walked toward the front door.
Serin set her boots on the floor and slipped her feet inside.
She zipped up the sides.
Her hand paused for a fraction of a second before moving again.
We faced each other.
"Get home safe."
Serin looked at me.
For a moment.
"...Take care at the funeral procession, Taeyoon."
Another pause.
"Call me when it's over."
I replied, "Yeah."
Serin placed her hand on the doorknob.
A narrow sliver of light from the hallway spilled in, then vanished.
The door clicked shut.
I followed her with my ears.
The hallway.
The chime of the elevator button.
The doors sliding open.
Sliding shut.
I stood by the front door and waited.
For some unknown reason.
I stood there for a long time.
I returned to my son's room.
The bed was empty and disheveled.
The blanket was bunched up on one side.
I pressed my face into the pillow.
The floral scent still lingered.
It was still dark outside.
More time passes.
I don't check what time it is.
It's that hour when the dawn deepens before slowly fading.
The darkness beyond the window has not yet broken.
I'm thirsty.
I get out of bed.
Still in my sweatpants and T-shirt.
Serin's warmth still clings to the empty sheets.
The floral scent on the pillow is slowly fading.
I open the door.
The hallway is unlit.
Shrouded in darkness.
I don't even need to quiet my footsteps.
I am the only one awake in this house.
Jiwon is at the funeral hall.
One of the chief mourners must keep vigil through the night.
And that person is her.
I was the only one who got out of Serin's car in front of this house, and I was the only one who stepped inside.
I walk out into the living room.
The living room is slightly brighter.
The faint light of dawn filters through the window.
I can't tell if it's from the streetlamps or the early morning sky.
It's an ambiguous, half-lit glow.
Neither dark nor bright.
I walk over to the refrigerator.
I open the door.
Light spills out.
The cold glow of the fridge's interior light.
A draft of cold air hits my face.
My eyes take a moment to adjust.
I take out some water.
A plastic bottle of mineral water.
I drink.
It's freezing.
Water straight from the fridge.
The chill slides down my throat.
Cooling me all the way to my stomach.
I don't sit on the living room sofa.
Nor do I sit at the dining table.
I just stand in front of the open fridge, drinking.
There is a clock in the living room.
Hanging on the wall.
Black numbers on a white face.
The second hand sweeps.
Tick, tick.
It makes a sound.
In the quiet of the early morning, it's incredibly loud.
A sound you would never notice during the day.
But at dawn, you hear it.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
I listen to that sound and think.
Since this isn't my body.
When this kid eventually comes back.
How do I explain this to him?
There is no way to explain it.
Even if I had to, I wouldn't know what to say.
When my son returns.
When he returns to this body.
The things that happened in the meantime will leave their mark on him.
Serin's scent.
The marks of Serin's fingers.
The things that fade, and the things that don't.
But at the very least, I have to make sure it isn't empty.
That is the only logic I have.
Keep it from being empty.
Keep this body from being empty.
Keep this house from being empty.
Keep this person from being empty.
I set the glass down.
I place it in the sink.
I don't wash it.
I can wash it later.
I look around the living room.
There is the sofa, the desk, the curtained windows, the television.
There is nothing.
No one is here.
My gaze drops.
To the end of the hallway.
Jiwon's bedroom door.
It is closed.
No light leaks out.
No one is inside.
Of course.
She is at the funeral hall right now.
I stare at that closed door.
While this kid was with Serin, she was burning incense before her husband's portrait.
The thought flashes briefly through my mind.
It doesn't pass me by.
It lingers, heavy.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The second hand of the living room clock keeps sweeping.
I stand there for a long time before returning to my son's room.
I step inside and sit on the edge of the bed.
The sheets haven't grown cold yet.
Serin's scent still faintly lingers.
My eyes close.