The Scent of Flesh
The soft pop echoed through the room like a bursting droplet.
He had only just woken up, so a deep, intense kiss felt excessive. Their lips met and parted in a brief touch, and as Yeo-won tried to pull away, his eyes narrowed into slits.
“Now that should be enou—mmph.”
In an instant, a hand gripped the back of her head, yanking her back. The lips that had just separated crashed together again with fierce hunger.
A tongue forced its way between her tightly sealed lips, roughly exploring every corner of her mouth. A helpless moan slipped through her teeth at the savage kiss.
“Wait—ngh.”
The words hovering at her lips kept melting away on his tongue. Their breaths tangled, and his hot tongue pushed even deeper.
The slick intruder pressed firmly against the soft, vulnerable flesh inside before teasingly withdrawing, only to plunge back in again and again.
The act felt disturbingly like penetration, and without realizing it, a dull ache bloomed low in her belly.
Only when Yeo-won began to struggle from the relentless length of the kiss did his lips finally release hers.
Heavy, moist breaths filled the narrow space between them.
Seeing her lips glistening with saliva, a satisfied smile bloomed at the corners of his mouth.
Yeo-won wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stared at him with wide eyes. He let out a low, resonant chuckle.
The laugh was so pure it almost seemed innocent, and for a moment, her heart stuttered in her chest.
Yeo-won turned her gaze away, then rose from the bed to escape him. Perhaps because of their earlier agreement, Shin-wol obediently made way for her.
A glance at the clock showed it was just past three in the morning. Having barely slept, an unpleasant, sticky fatigue clung to her bones.
When she stole a quick look at the source of that fatigue, he was sitting on her bed as if it were his own, back against the wall, lazily surveying the room.
The sight of him sweeping his long hair back was so seductive that her perfectly ordinary bedroom suddenly felt shabby by comparison.
Their eyes met. He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a disarmingly charming way.
Was it his shameless attitude, or was it simply the strange, captivating aura that always surrounded Shin-wol?
Even though she ought to be angry, the desire to scold him strangely wouldn’t come.
Still, he was infuriating. She silently vowed to pluck a handful of his tail fur someday, just like she had done to Cheong-sil, and headed toward the kitchen.
Sleeping again seemed impossible, and although she hadn’t invited him, a guest had arrived. She might as well make coffee.
Yeo-won pulled out the instant coffee she always drank from a drawer, then suddenly froze.
…But is it okay to serve him something like this?
After glancing at Shin-wol once more, she looked down at the cheap granules in her hand and began rummaging through the cabinets and drawers again.
Perhaps because of his dazzling appearance, the usual instant coffee now looked embarrassingly plain. But she couldn’t find any tea bags, let alone snacks to serve alongside it. In the end, she gave up, brewed the coffee, and returned to the room.
“Here.”
She set his cup down on the small table beside the bed. Shin-wol tilted his head.
“It’s coffee… ah, it’s like a Western-style tea.”
He murmured softly, then lifted the cup and took a sip. Without hesitation, he set it down again and didn’t touch it a second time. It seemed he had only drunk it out of courtesy for her effort, but that wasn’t what caught her attention now.
That fellow?Shin-wol had clearly been referring to someone specific.
Who could it be? If they liked coffee, were they human? Or perhaps not human at all—she had no way of knowing.
Yeo-won leaned back against the bed and stared down at the mug in her hands.
She blew gently on the rising steam, and warm air brushed across her face.
One sip sent the heat sliding down her throat all the way to her stomach, the sensation vividly clear.
Yet even as she drank, her mind was completely occupied by the mysterious person Shin-wol had mentioned.
Come to think of it, I know almost nothing about him.
She only knew his name. Nothing else.
His age? Where he came from? Did he have family?
Once the thought took root, it branched out endlessly.
He wasn’t the type to offer information willingly, and she wasn’t the type to pry.
As Yeo-won sat there absentmindedly holding her cup, Shin-wol suddenly reached out and tapped her forehead with his index finger.
Startled by the light contact, she looked up to find him sitting directly across from her. She hadn’t even noticed him leave the bed.
He tilted his head, wearing a seductive smile.
He gently took the mug from her hands and brought it to his own lips.
“…Then what do you like?”
The question slipped out before she could stop it. Yeo-won flinched, a wave of mortification washing over her at having spoken her private thoughts aloud. But an unexpected answer came in return.
Shin-wol spoke indifferently as he set the coffee back on the table. Yeo-won’s gaze followed his long, elegant hand, and she bit her lip.
Suddenly she was curious. Just how far could she push before she crossed the line he allowed?
“What about things other than food?”
She clasped her hands tightly and asked cautiously. Shin-wol stared at her in silence. After several seconds of locked gazes, he smiled softly.
He reached out, lifted her effortlessly, and settled her onto his lap.
Resting his cheek against the top of her head, he continued speaking.
“Why not?”
When Yeo-won frowned in confusion, he chuckled softly.
“I don’t hate people just because they’re different from me.”
The voice above her head sounded strangely forlorn.
“What kind of price?”
Yeo-won couldn’t grasp the full meaning behind his words, but the hollow tone in his voice spoke clearly of his emotions.
He was grieving. Remembering the humans who, driven by the very curiosity he spoke of, had become consumed by desire and eventually left his side.
His hand slowly stroked her hair. The touch was gentle and tender, like soothing a child, and drowsiness began to creep over her again.
It was truly strange. Whenever she was near him, sleep crashed over her like a tidal wave.
Unable to resist the overwhelming pull of slumber, Yeo-won blinked her heavy eyes.
She wanted to say something, but her mouth refused to move. Instead, she fidgeted with the hand resting against his chest. In response, he clasped her fingers and pressed a kiss to them.
He kissed her palm once more, deeply, then whispered against her ear.
He added something else afterward, but she had already fallen asleep and didn’t hear it. He laid her down on the bed and spent the hours until dawn simply watching her peaceful, sleeping face.
Gazing at her motionless features, he lost all sense of time.
Humans died so quickly. He wanted to remember these fleeting moments for as long as possible.
To commit every detail of her to memory, Shin-wol didn’t even blink as he drank in the sight of her.
*
The next morning, the first thing Yeo-won saw when she opened her eyes was a pair of slit pupils, thin as a cat’s. Surrounded by golden irises, they startled her so badly she bolted upright in bed.
Shin-wol, who had been lying beside her, sat up as well. He offered a languid smile as he asked the question. Yeo-won blinked rapidly, quickly recalling what had happened before she fell asleep.
Last night, she had thought his sudden visit to her home was a dream. It seemed it hadn’t been.
More importantly… was he watching my sleeping face the entire time?
She checked to make sure she hadn’t drooled, then asked in a flustered voice.
“Ah… you’re still here?”
“It’s not that… it’s just so sudden. No, more importantly—are you planning to stay here?”
When she asked, half in disbelief, he made a small sound of consideration and stroked his chin, slowly scanning the room.
“…”
When he stood up, the room suddenly felt much smaller. She was once again struck by just how enormous his presence was.
He looked almost pleased. His gaze suddenly shifted toward the window. With a casual flick of his finger, he drew the curtains completely shut, blocking out all light.
Then, with the expression of someone bestowing a great favor, he delivered the final blow.