91. Sleepless Guilt
I couldn't sleep. Thank God tomorrow was Sunday. I'd pulled the covers over my head, blocking out every scrap of light, but sleep just wouldn't come.
I could sort of understand why Mom was acting like this. Ah... I could never understand what the hell Dad was thinking, but I got the gist of him wanting to come back. He'd done everything he wanted, and that's exactly why I hated it even more.
He hadn't shown his face once while his kids were all off to college, and now if we didn't take him back, it made me look like the trash. The situation was beyond unpleasant—it was revolting. I chewed over that unbearable disgust again and again before finally getting out of bed.
I headed to the kitchen, thinking I'd grab whatever beer was left. As I reached for the door handle, "Ah... oppa."
Gyeo-ul, in her pajamas, opened the door before I could. She was up before me.
"...Why didn't you pick up?"
"Sorry... I dozed off for a bit."
She didn't look particularly sorry, but I wasn't mad. I didn't have the energy left to get pissed over something like that. If anything, hearing her voice eased the tightness in my chest a little. ...You're feeling frustrated too, huh? That's why you came.
"Go wait in my room."
"Where you going?"
"Grabbing drinks."
I let Gyeo-ul into my room and headed to the fridge. Digging around, I found two cans of the dark beer Mom had bought, ice-cold. I cracked one open, poured it into glasses, then gave up looking for snacks.
Balancing a glass in each hand, I went back to my room. My sister had turned on the bedside lamp and was buried nose-first in my pillow.
"...What're you doing?"
"Smelling oppa."
I ruffled her hair in disbelief and handed her a glass. Before I could even say to sip it slow since it was booze, she gulped it down without a second thought, then scrunched her brows and glared at me with scary eyes.
"...What the hell, oppa? Making your little sister drink this at dawn."
"I was gonna tell you, but you snatched it and chugged before I could."
"I thought it was water or coffee, obviously. ...Why booze? You wanted to drink?"
"You didn't drink today. Figured we'd have some together for once."
...Gotta drown this frustration somehow. I'd planned to drink alone, but she'd come all the way to my room—it'd feel weird drinking by myself now.
I eyed my glass with its foamy head, then silently toasted hers—she'd already taken a sip—and downed some. Pretty bitter, but with a rich beery aroma. I swallowed, watching her shift position.
"...Why do you keep staring?"
"Just 'cause."
"'Just 'cause' what? Explain properly."
"...Just 'cause."
She wasn't even tipsy, but her eyes looked prettier than usual. Weird how you could feel this way about family. Hell, I didn't even need to go as far as our cousin noona—my sister's friends did nothing for me. Even the female classmates, all pretty enough, just... didn't register as women. Except Gyeo-ul. Only her.
"Oppa. You heard about Mom too... right?"
As I traced her features with my eyes, she finally brought up the source of our frustration first. I took another swig, refilling the bitterness in my mouth, and we dove into the sibling talk.
"Yeah."
"...What'd you say?"
"What could I say? ...If Mom wants it."
Her reasoning was solid. She wanted to give her kids a dad. Anyone could see the absent dad was the root cause, but from Mom's side... better to have some kind of father than none. Way more practical than an oppa seeing his sister as a woman. No one could blame Dad or Mom for it. Though deep down, I still did. Just couldn't say it to her face.
"...Y'know, I actually... didn't hate Dad that much."
"...What?"
"Just... figured he had reasons he couldn't come. That he... missed us too."
"No way. If he was that kind of guy..."
No way. If he had any sense of responsibility, he wouldn't have left us like this all these years. If he had a conscience.
"Ah, yeah. You're right, oppa. If he was that kind of guy... he wouldn't have done it. He wouldn't be trying to play dad now."
He wouldn't be trying to play dad now, after all this time. I barely remembered what he looked like, his voice was a blur. That's why there were no real grudges built up. He probably wasn't a bad guy. Must've had some reason. Some reason he couldn't come back, abandoning two kids.
Even the fantasy she'd harbored—gone, shattered without even facing it.
"If he'd just... stayed gone forever... I wouldn't have resented him. Why now..."
Way better if he'd stayed a figment of imagination. Why? Why try to come back now?
They say there's no parent who loses to their kids. Maybe we could sway Mom? No matter how trash we were, as long as she didn't find out, we could play the spoiled card once or twice.
"Wanna stop it, Gyeo-ul?"
"...Nah. Might be better if Mom and Dad remarry."
"...Why?"
Was it because even hating him, he was still Dad? Or couldn't defy Mom like me? Or...
"I... lied to you, oppa."
"About what?"
"You said we should live with Mom... the three of us."
"..."
"...I actually hate that."
Maybe a totally selfish reason.
"I was thinking while I dozed off earlier. ...Maybe it's a good thing."
"..."
"If Mom remarries Dad... we can live just the two of us. ...Say I hate Dad and move out."
So damn selfish. Ignoring the family entirely, thinking only of us two.
"Pretty selfish, right? Mom's trying to give us a dad, even remarrying someone she hates."
Maybe, in truth...
"But you seem to feel so guilty toward Mom... I felt bad too, so I was gonna go along."
I might've been the more selfish one. I gave up on going abroad, on living together—just me pushing. After incest with my sister, dumping load after load inside her till I lost count in my lust-fueled haze, betraying Mom—then acting all high and mighty about taking care of her.
"But Mom's human too. Even if we wait on her forever... she'll notice eventually."
"...Better if they reunite."
"She might not even care about us."
Three's a crowd. Just us two. Your resolve to give up so much because you love me—far more realistic.
She finished her words, drained her glass, rinsed her dry mouth, then got up, set it on the desk, and reached for me. I chugged the rest of mine and handed her my glass. She set them side by side, hesitated with her hand at her pajama top, then climbed on without taking it off, pushing me down.
"When you first touched me... it felt so weird? My real oppa groping me, squeezing my tits, pinning me down with that turned-on face... I was scared shitless."
"...I was scared too. Didn't know I'd do that."
Not eyes to eyes, but head to chest. The soft orange glow from the bedside lamp made her undoing buttons one by one look even sexier.
"...But the more you touched me... I wanted more. More... to submit, wanted you to touch my mouth too..."
She didn't undo them all, just enough to tease, half-open. Then she used my hand to stroke her lips.
"Wondered what it'd feel like if you touched... the most important spot on my chest."
Then slowly down her jaw. This time tracing her cleavage, then lower, undoing the rest of the pesky buttons.
"...Pinned down breathless by my real oppa—why didn't it feel bad? I wondered."
Nose buried between her tits, my hands already groping the pink flesh of those white fruits.
"Turns out... I fucking love it. You kissing me when you get back, hugging me to sleep. Showering together's great. Loving you without sneaking around... I love it all."
"...Same here. Guess 'cause we're siblings."
Seducing her oppa with everything she'd learned from him—her little brother act.
"You fed me booze... two glasses."
"...Two?"
"I snuck some 'cause I was frustrated, ended up in the wrong room. Two glasses gets me tipsy..."
A blatant lie, but "So I passed out here. Got it?"
"...Yeah."
"You couldn't kick out your poor little sis."
"...Kinda annoying, but fine."
"Yeah, and... since I'm drunk, one last drunken whine, oppa?"
That last part? Pure truth, no lies.
"I hate Dad, so I'm moving out. Not going back. ...Take Gyeo-ul and live together—lie to me."
"..."
"Let's live together, just us, oppa."
Who ruined you this bad? No need to say. The one to take responsibility, the one who should freak out, the one weirdly smiling— all your real oppa.