The Taste of a Female Idol
I'd lightly rinsed off my body with a bath towel and brushed my teeth before stepping out. "Ah, the cool air wrapping around me after leaving that steamy warmth... so refreshing."
I'd always enjoyed saunas, baths, soaking in hot tubs—any of it. But nothing beat this crisp, invigorating feeling right after emerging.
"Jisoo, can I go out like this?"
"No way. You'll catch a cold."
"But it'll be fine like this."
"Still, if you go out damp and it gets chilly, what then?"
"It's humid here anyway, so it won't dry properly. Plus, I run hot—I don't feel the cold as much."
She pursed her lips in a slight pout, looking adorably sulky. "Ah, come on. That's straight-up foul play, being that cute."
"Fine, then we'll dry off outside!"
I gently pried her hand off the firmly shut bathroom door, and she scampered out with a little hop. "Whoa, super refreshing! Yeah, this hits the spot."
After a bath, your body felt languid yet invigorated, a cocktail of pleasant sensations. How could it not feel amazing?
I hurried after her, using the bath towel to press and blot the water from her skin. Women had delicate skin, so you weren't supposed to rub too hard—I'd heard that before.
"Mmm, princess treatment feels nice."
"If you like it, I can do it anytime, princess."
"Eek, what's with that corny line~!"
The steamy post-bath vibe had somehow shifted away from anything too erotic, but it still left a warm, fuzzy glow. Not a bad feeling at all.
Once I'd wiped her down, she darted out ahead again. But I caught up while she was meticulously applying skincare to her face, slipping behind her and pulling her into a light embrace.
"Ah, you're out? Come here. I feel like you don't do any skincare, so I have to take care of it for you."
She was a long-time celebrity used to professional care, after all. Just looking at her skin told the story.
Aside from when Mom slathered lotion on me as a kid, I'd never really bothered with it myself. Maybe an all-in-one lotion when my skin felt tight, that was it.
"Your skin's pretty good for someone who doesn't bother with it, though?"
"Yeah, it kinda is, huh?"
I'd tossed in a joke expecting her to scold me for admitting neglect, but she seemed serious. Oh ho, so even a pro idol thought my skin held up well compared to guys my age. High praise.
"Still, you should take care of it. Neglect it too long, and it might crash hard by your thirties."
"Whoa, 'crash hard'? That's kinda scary."
She was still in her twenties, so it was hard to say for sure. But if she was right and mine suddenly tanked, it'd be awkward facing her like this from then on.
She got top-tier maintenance as a world-class idol—probably keep that youthful glow into her forties, fifties even if she stayed on top of it.
"Just dab and press it in like this to absorb."
She recommended products, showed me techniques. Her skincare spiel was endless, leaving my head spinning a bit. I wasn't into this stuff, plain and simple.
But she was so excited, nodding along was all I could do. Nothing really stuck, though.
"Ah, sorry, I talked too much. I'm really into cosmetics—thinking of starting a business there someday."
Oh, her own endorsement line? She'd crush it. With that passion and genuine care for others, she'd only sell the good stuff.
"Impressive. You've got all these plans lined up."
"Yep. I've always dreamed big about the future and loved checking them off one by one."
I remembered hearing she was a prodigy among prodigies as a kid. Diligent, always above average at everything—worlds apart from a guy like me who coasted at middling.
She sparkled even brighter for it. A true object of admiration and envy.
And up close? Even more lovable, with real human warmth.
"Yoonah, you're like a protagonist straight out of a manga or novel."
"Hm, protagonist, huh? So does that make you the heroine?"
"Wait, you know that term too?"
"Of course. I was obsessed with manga back in the day."
Balancing hardcore ambition with hobbies? The more I learned, the more astonishing she got.
"Alright, let's just dry your hair and hop into bed?"
She flicked on the hairdryer, skillfully blow-drying with practiced ease. I just stared, dazed.
My short hair was basically dry already—no need.
"Guys have it easy with short hair. No blow-drying required."
"True, short hair's way more convenient."