Jealousy and Obsession (3)
It all started with that pok-tuk-twi poke. Seonghwan's eyes had briefly glazed over at Yuri's embarrassingly protruding nipples, and though he desperately tried to keep pace with the lecture, he couldn't stop his head from turning every so often midway through class. Yuri responded by puffing out her chest proudly at his glances.
And from that moment, their secretive KakaoTalk chats vanished.
"Where's your bra? You planning to walk around like that? Even with a jacket on, won't it feel stuffy?"
"In my bag. Put it on me later."
"Put it on you? Me?"
Yuri just nodded lightly in response to Seonghwan's question. A few people in front turned around suspiciously at their whispering, but Seonghwan played it off by casually handing Yuri a pen. She, in turn, naturally crossed her arms to cover her chest.
There was a bit of a break before the next lecture, but annoyingly, the classrooms were at opposite ends of campus. Considering how vast Korea University was, it wasn't a short walk—and the storage room where they'd occasionally bumped into each other was quite a distance too. Going all the way there just to help her put on a bra felt like a waste of time.
No, honestly, Seonghwan didn't trust himself to hold back. The moment he saw Yuri's pale skin, he'd turn into an unstoppable runaway train—it was obvious.
"I don't have time. Just put it on yourself. My next class is in Literature Hall."
"Heh."
But Yuri just gave a meaningful smile at his awkward dodge.
Aw, shit, this girl's making me uneasy... I don't want to skip class and go full delinquent mode...
Once a habit formed, crumbling after that was instantaneous. After just a month, all those 23 years of living like a pushover felt meaningless as he'd embraced women left and right—Seonghwan wanted to at least stick to being a proper college student.
Plus, Yuri's vibe was off. Every chance she got, she transformed her image like she was shedding her skin. The gym gallery photos, the bathroom at his pork belly joint, and today's run-in with Yesul. She was charging forward impatiently, like she was desperate about something.
What if she posts pics of us fucking on some porn board later? Fuck, can I even handle that?
Just as Yesul had flipped out over Yuri, now Seonghwan worried Yesul might set Yuri off. Well, Yesul was less of a concern, but Yuri felt increasingly uncontrollable.
"...Alright, that's it for today's class. We've covered the relationship between politics and administration, so next time we'll discuss management and administration. Good work, everyone."
The professor's closing words hit right on cue.
Aw... I wasted half the lecture. Most of it's rote memorization anyway, so I could self-study, but I can't keep doing this.
By contrast, a glance at Yuri's notebook showed it crammed full of meticulous notes. She'd tempted him the whole time but clearly paid attention herself.
"...You actually listened that hard?"
Even under Seonghwan's glaring stare, Yuri scoffed nonchalantly and packed her books.
"Piece of cake."
Look at her face change now that class is over. Total ice mode.
Her tone turned curt and cold—anyone would see it as her usual self. She even slipped on her outer jacket to hide her embarrassing chest before finishing up, the picture of her usual meticulous poise.
Swoosh.
As Yuri finished packing and stood, she gave Seonghwan a head tilt signal.
She's serious? No way...
Seonghwan hesitated inwardly but couldn't ignore her blatant gaze.
"Hey, Yuri! Heading out first again today? Don't you have a free period after this? If you're going to the library, wanna go together? I could buy you a coffee or..."
"Busy. Gotta hit the bathroom."
"...Huh?"
Some random guy rushed up to block her path, but Yuri shut him down coldly. By bluntly mentioning a bathroom errand—something girls rarely said outright—she blocked his advance. Then she stopped, turned, and stared at Seonghwan.
Fuck.
Before the guy even noticed him, Seonghwan bolted from the lecture hall too.
****
Smack smack smack smack.
As expected...
The bra was obviously just an excuse. He'd anticipated—and hoped for—this steamy interlude. But he never imagined this spot.
"Haa... How the hell did you even find this place?"
Yuri had dashed ahead, dragging Seonghwan to a warehouse-like room on the third floor of the department annex building where their Intro to Administration class was held. The door had a "Closed" sign and a "No Entry Except Authorized Personnel" sticker—clearly not just some abandoned storage. It was empty of furniture but neatly kept, with a basic sofa and table set up.
"Haa haa. Old computer lab."
"What?"
Yuri pulled away from sucking on Seonghwan's neck to answer, but the stringy saliva trailing from her lips looked downright erotic to him.
"Used to be the old computer room, but they moved the servers elsewhere, so it's been empty."
"No way... How'd you know?"
"Idiot."
"What? Out of nowhere, what's that suppo—"
"'Oppa' wouldn't know since you skipped department life. Last year, first-years helped clean the back here for the department head. They're planning to stock it with reference books and make it a small reading room once they get the budget. Not officially open yet, I guess."
He'd given up on freshman activities himself, so yeah, fair criticism. But what stuck in Seonghwan's ears wasn't that.
O-oppa? Fuck? Oppa? From Yuri? To me? Guh...
With Lee Hyun, it was "hey" or "you" as daily basics—worse case, "punk," "jerk," or "you little shit" flowed naturally.
Yuri was no different. If anything, harsher. At least Hyun gave him names; Yuri mixed in "hmph," "what," "tch"—adverbs and interjections that treated him like total trash.
"Oppa...?"
As Seonghwan looked down to confirm her new term, Yuri buried her flushed face in his neck.
Kuh... So cu-cute.
This was beyond imagination. The haughty Yuri, at a loss, clinging and calling him oppa. Whether subconscious or deliberate, she wasn't taking it back—giving Seonghwan a glimpse of her true feelings.
"Aww, aren't you a cutie? You even know to call me oppa? Open up. Let's do a deep one. Come on, ahh~"
Half proud, half adoring, Seonghwan leaned in for a kiss. But Yuri mumbled softly without lifting her head.
"A bit more..."
"Huh? What? Couldn't hear."
"I wish oppa would take the lead a little more..."
"O!! Oppa again. Yeah? But take the lead how? What more do you want me to do here?"
They'd come here on a bra pretext—her top was already off. Zipping off her jeans would be nothing if he wanted. Hers were unbuttoned now, splayed open, his hand already roaming inside.
She wants me to strip her fully? Is that it? Shit... But time's tight. Door's locked, but still—we're only shirtless. Risk it?
But Yuri's answer went beyond his fantasies.
"I wish you'd talk to me more... Tell me what you wanna try..."
"...What?"
"Every time... it's me. I have to speak first. Show myself first."
Boom—thunder crashed in Seonghwan's head.
She's saying... what?
Of course, he knew. Once he realized "NewbieButtQueen" was Yuri, he'd half-blackmailed her—but that was pure joke. He hadn't sought this; he'd even cut messages early fearing backlash.
Thinking back: she sent the lewd pics first. she approached showing off. She risked it all sneaking into the men's room to seduce him. Even now.
Something clicked for Seonghwan.
Wait... Did she know it was me from the gym gallery pics? Not coincidence?
Too many "coincidences" to reach this physical level randomly. He'd suspected, but now her confession indirectly admitted pursuing him first.
Why? Why me?
Sensing his turmoil, Yuri continued.
"Just... don't overthink it. It feels good now. Keep holding me like this... And from now on, take the lead a bit more."
Fuck.
The world was full of mysteries. With Yumi, it was simple—pure sex. But Yesul and Yuri baffled him. Yesul made sense; time together bred feelings. Yuri? Way too sudden. Barely any prior connection. Just...
A memory flashed.
Orientation? That first day?
Stuck in the same group, their snippy exchanges full of discord. The hurt from getting chewed out by a senior because of her. The embarrassment of subbing for her on stage.
After that, he'd thought their thread snapped. Believed it.
She saw me at the library then. Posting to the gym gallery. I wondered, but... it was real.
One orientation fiasco making her fall? Still didn't compute. But no other trigger explained their time together.
For that? Nah...
Reasons didn't matter. Women's hearts were unknowable.
Over a year since then?
More than a year post-orientation. Now in his arms, kissing, loving—but she'd watched him secretly through all those dull days. The thought rang in his head.
Maybe Yesul wasn't the only one who'd waited ages.
Fuck... Why you? Yesul I get, but you too?
Smack smack smack smack.
Amid it, Yuri's trembling head bobbed as she marked his neck fervently, like claiming territory for all to see. Unimaginable for the always-upright, expressionless Yuri who strode with chin high. A radical transformation—like Yesul's that morning. Maybe more.
Questioning "why me" was pointless now. She'd bared her heart, embarrassment be damned. That was enough.
Seonghwan pulled her tight, kissing her hair. Feeling it, Yuri looked up. Teary eyes and a blooming smile lit her face. Their lips met slowly.
Short time left before class. Tongues tangled ceaselessly, seeking each other.
****
After her daughter's morning fuss leading to the master bedroom, Hye-yeon cracked her eyes and stared.
That gaze—once resentment, rebellion—now wrapped in understanding lately.
Suddenly all womanly eyes?
Her now-taller beauty stared straight back. Hye-yeon grinned.
"What's up so early? No morning class? You showered early; I thought you had an early one."
Lie, really. She tracked her daughter's schedule. Even lazing in bed, she prepped toast and salad on class days. Today, Thursday—10:30 start.
Daughter eyed her warily before speaking.
"I need a favor..."
"What favor? Aigoo... Don't make me wait like you're borrowing money."
"Makeup..."
"Huh?"
"Teach me makeup. And clothes... ones that suit me."
"Whaaat?"
Hye-yeon's jaw dropped at the unexpected plea. She'd joked about money, knowing her doting husband gave plenty.
A real boyfriend?
That mature gaze had her doubting, but her daughter had snagged a guy.
One-sided crush...? No way...?
Born after hard pregnancy, her girl was stunning—enough to make even Hye-yeon jealous as a woman. Few men wouldn't fall.
Yet here she was, fretting over makeup like...
"You... not a crush, right?"
Skipping preamble, Hye-yeon blurted. Daughter just shut her mouth, getting it instantly.
"No way! Whose daughter are you? Look at yourself. Who could reject you? And your academics? He an idol? Chaebol heir? Who is he?"
"...Don't ask more."
She blocked further questions. Hye-yeon guessed: not those types.
Sigh... Like mother, like daughter.
Secret she hid from daughter. Unsure if husband knew. She'd once burned with love for a college senior. First-love fever was brutal; cocky, she thought he'd never ignore her. Amid better suitors, she gave herself fully. Breakup agony lingered.
Happy now with smart, well-off husband. But years later, at a reunion, seeing him—time's cruelty dredged old memories. Regret, life's wear. He had a family; she did too. Plus daughter... and conscience.
Hye-yeon rebuilt pride: makeup, workouts. Couldn't rewind, but reclaim youth, show the world the woman who'd charmed many.
Really, to show him—buried deep.
She'd lived facaded too long.
Sigh... My girl, really...
But she couldn't burden her. Just support this love, guard against her own scars.
"Come here. Why not dry your hair first? No—five minutes. I'll start with blow-drying. Mom'll prep makeup."
Sending her out, Hye-yeon gathered products.
My girl's pale skin, sharp features like mine...
Excitement bubbled unwittingly as she headed to the vanity.
Hm?
Daughter still stood there. Hye-yeon glanced reflexively.
"What? More to say?"
Her hesitant vibe suggested yes. Novel, heart-tugging—Hye-yeon felt pleased.
She'd grant anything.
"Spit it out. I know you've got a guy; it's about him. No hesitating now. What?"
"......I wanna do it."
"Huh? Speak clearly. Do what...?"
"I wanna live alone!!!!"
Hye-yeon's playful face froze, mouth agape.
"Whaaaat?!!!!"
Her daughter's resolve outstripped her imagination.