Encounter with the Petite Nurse
The door creaked open with a sharp kiiik— "Excuse me~"
Taeyang pushed the handle and stepped right inside. He glanced around cautiously, but the thick alcohol scent that hit him immediately reminded him this was the health office. Someone emerged from the back. Well, not just someone—it was the school nurse. Who else would be wearing such a pristine white coat?
"Huh?"
The sound slipped from Taeyang's mouth in surprise. He'd assumed it was the nurse, of course, but something was off about her outfit. Beneath the slim glasses perched on her nose, her delicate features clustered cutely together, and her ponytail neatly exposed a glimpse of pale nape. Sure, a woman could pull it off no problem, but that wasn't the issue. She looked way too young. Like, elementary school upper grades at best—a total kid. He half-wondered if she was the nurse's daughter, playing dress-up while Mom stepped out for a bit.
The coat wasn't even that big, yet its hem dragged past her calves to her ankles, brushing the floor if she bent even slightly. As Taeyang stood there by the entrance lost in these thoughts, the nurse gave a wry smile and sat down at her desk.
"I am the school nurse. And yes, I'm an adult."
"Ah, sorry about that."
Taeyang finally caught on and bowed his head. Looking back, he'd been pretty rude. But the nurse just waved it off lightly and replied matter-of-factly.
"No worries. Everyone reacts the same way at first. I'm used to it by now. It's weird enough having a woman in the health office, right? And looking this young on top of it?"
She gestured to the round chair beside her.
"Have a seat here."
"Sure, sure."
"Hmm..."
Now it was the nurse's turn to tilt her head, eyeing Taeyang up and down. Who the hell was this guy? Not a student, judging by the casual clothes. But too flashy for staff—blond hair and piercings screamed delinquent. Still, his looks made it all work, turning the bad-boy vibe into something magnetic. After pondering for a bit, she tapped into her professional mode. She could ask who he was after treating him.
"So, what's hurting?"
"Ah, yeah. I cut my finger while cooking."
"Got it. Let me see the wound."
Taeyang held out his left hand. The bandage he'd slapped on right before lunch was already soaked with blood, frayed and gross. She peeled off the cheap drugstore band-aid and clicked her tongue at the gash.
"That's a deep one. You didn't even disinfect it?"
"Yeah, I was in a rush."
"No matter how rushed, you gotta do the basics. Health comes first."
"You're right. Yeah..."
Since he'd messed up first, Taeyang just meekly agreed. She wasn't wrong anyway. The nurse took his hand in hers and used tweezers to dab gauze in disinfectant. Normally it'd take a couple quick taps, but she went over his finger—and half his hand—again and again, dragging it out.
"Your hands..."
"Pardon?"
"No, just... they look so capable."
Starting from the tips, the faint scars screamed years of cooking. Not just knife slips—burns from oil splatters, pricks from sharp tools. Looks-wise he seemed wild, but he had a domestic side. Whoever married him would be one lucky girl. Lost in that thought, she rubbed his hand a little longer.
"Haha, thanks."
All-girls school meant chances to touch a guy's hands were rare. At best, some middle-aged male teacher with a paper cut. For a moment, she toyed with his hand purely for the feel of it, treatment forgotten. Finally, she applied a fresh bandage, and their hands parted. She looked almost regretful as she asked,
"Anyway, I need to log this. Who might you be?"
Taeyang answered,
"Ah, there's a class observation today. I'm here as a student's guardian."
"I see~"
He glanced at the neat bandage around his finger—way better than the junk at home—and asked,
"Any extras? Mind if I grab one more?"
"Of course. One sec~ I was just restocking since we were out."
That explained why she'd come from the back earlier. She'd used the last one on him, so she stood and headed inside. Stepping onto a chair, she rummaged in the wall cabinet, reaching left—
And wobble—!
"Wh-whoa!!!!!"
She lost balance, body pitching wildly. The chair toppled, and she plummeted toward the floor. Or would have. Taeyang dashed over in a flash, catching her just in time.
Looking down at the nurse suddenly cradled in his arms, he asked,
"You okay?"
"Uh, ah! S-sorry!"
"Nah, no biggie. Glad you didn't get hurt."
As she panted in shock, Taeyang shot her an odd look.
"I get you're startled, but... hands."
"Y-yes, wha—oh!"
At his words, she looked down and her eyes went wide. In the chaos, she hadn't noticed, but both her hands were planted right on his chest... and right above his crotch. Before she could think, instinct made her shift slightly, palms brushing his pecs through his pants and grazing his dick.
"Huh?"
"Eek! I-I mean, that's—!"
She yanked her hands away, trembling. It might've started as an accident, but that wiggle crossed into full-on sexual harassment territory. Giving up excuses, she wailed pitifully,
"S-sorry! I'm so sorry! I must've lost my mind for a sec! Sorry!"
Taeyang was the flustered one now. He knew how this world worked, but being on the receiving end was kinda hilarious.
"Calm down. It's fine. Could happen to anyone."
Only then did she settle. He helped the pale-faced nurse to her feet and they returned to their spots.
"Nurse."
"Y-yes?"
Taeyang asked. He'd planned to grab the band-aid and bounce, but why pass up this fun?
"What's your name?"
"Ha... Ha Seoyun..."
"Pretty name, matches your looks."
"Th-thanks, even if it's empty flattery... But I really didn't mean to grope you."
Tense as hell, Seoyun swallowed, gauging his reaction. He said it was okay, but this felt like an interrogation.
"No big. I'd love a cute nurse like you touching me more."
His sly line made flustered Seoyun tug her skirt hem down hard. Lies. She was too weak-willed and flat for a girl—no way anyone liked her. Just a ploy to drop her guard. She repeated it to herself over and over. Taeyang kept smiling, slowly scanning her.
"For real. Seoyun's got so much charm."
"Th-that incident... I'm truly sorry. But mocking my looks like that... please stop."
Now she was trembling on the verge of tears. Utter humiliation. Taeyang, who'd meant it as encouragement, scratched his chin with an annoyed sigh. If she'd been even a bit less attractive, he'd have shrugged and left. But...
"Hmm. Words aren't getting through, huh."
As long as she was legal, Taeyang didn't care.
"Wha—kyaa!"
He scooped her up effortlessly. Arms locked under her knees and back—classic princess carry—and strode inside. The bed in back was curtained off in white; he swept it aside and tossed her onto the sheets.
"Wh-what are you—!!!"
Even as she yelped, Seoyun didn't bolt or scream for help. His eyes, words, vibe—they all screamed one thing. No matter how romance-inept she was, this blatant setup was impossible to miss. Hell, she'd never even had a proper relationship, which made this porn-level fantasy scenario click right away.
Already aroused, she squirmed to the bed's center. Taeyang climbed on after, unbuttoning his shirt one by one.
In sexual and romantic dynamics, women hold the reins by default. The common wisdom is that a guy only responds properly if she leads the mood. But not every woman fits the mold. Personality, upbringing, background—some just can't take charge. And Ha Seoyun was the poster child.
She could only yield as Taeyang's hands moved. He reached for her slim ankle and yanked her legs wide. White panties peeked from under her skirt; his hand slid up her thighs like silk, slipping them off smooth as butter.