Soaked Through
“What is it?”
Somi was just about to open her mouth when she saw a truck barreling toward them in the distance, showing no sign of slowing down. Right beside the roadside where she stood, rainwater had pooled into an enormous puddle. If nothing changed, she was about to take the full force of it.
“I'm... a sunbae, so—hup!”
Hwi-young hastily grabbed Somi's wrist and yanked her toward him. But startled, she instinctively threw out her hands and shoved hard against his chest. The unexpected resistance sent him staggering for a moment—and in that instant, the truck plowed recklessly through the puddle.
SPLASH—!
“Kyaa!”
A colossal wave of water crashed over Somi. In a heartbeat she was drenched from head to toe, standing there in a daze. Her fluffy curls drooped limply, like cotton candy gone soggy in the rain.
“Pfft.”
A short laugh burst out of Hwi-young.
“Pfft—hahahaha.”
As he properly started laughing, strength flashed into Kwak Somi's round eyes all at once. Unable to hold it in, Hwi-young's shoulders began to shake.
“That's what you get for shoving me.”
“Well, you suddenly yanked me—”
Wiping her eyes with the back of a wet hand, Somi muttered, clearly aggrieved.
“Stop laughing...”
But after cackling like a madman for a good long while, when he finally lifted his head again, he couldn't laugh anymore.
Somi's dress, soaked through with rainwater, had already ceased to function as clothing. The wet fabric clung to her skin, baring the lines of her body without a shred of modesty. Through the darkened cloth, even the outline of her underwear showed through plainly.
She herself was too busy shaking out her hair to notice, but every time she drew breath, the round swell of her chest rose and fell in an endless rhythm.
Just then, the door of the samgyeopsal restaurant behind them slid open with a clatter, spilling out the raucous voices of a pack of guys. Hwi-young's brow snapped into a frown. He swiftly shrugged off his shirt and draped it over Somi's shoulders. Looking down at her as she flinched and hunched up, he pressed his lips together and asked:
“You can't walk around like that.”
“I'm sorry?”
The shirt covered her upper body, but her still-bare, wet thighs and the lines of her legs kept grating on him.
“Where's home?”
“Oh, I live in the dorms.”
That was a good fifteen-minute walk from here at least. In that state, no less.
Swallowing a sigh, he lifted the corner of his mouth as if it were nothing.
“My place is close by. Want to at least change your clothes?”
Somi startled and waved her hands wildly.
“No—no, no. It's fine! I'm okay!”
Just how many times was she going to say no?
“I-I can go like this. I'm just a little wet, that's all.... I'll wash your shirt and bring it back to you—”
Hwi-young cut her off.
“Are you trying to work some kind of scheme? You'll be in real trouble if you go out looking like that.”
Only then did Somi blink her round eyes and stare straight at him.
Standing before the mirror in his entryway, Somi's face crumpled in an instant. It was understandable. It hadn't been clean water—it was muddy road slop she'd been doused in.
Watching her appalled expression, Hwi-young barely held back the laughter that kept threatening to escape. Then, deliberately playing it cool, he insisted he was fine and told her to go wash up. After a long hesitation, Somi finally accepted his offer.
“If you're uncomfortable, I can step outside.”
Clutching the change of clothes he'd handed her and shuffling in place, Somi shook her head. From the look on her face, she thought kicking the homeowner out of his own house was simply beyond the pale, no matter what.
The door closed, and soon the sound of running water filled the room.
That was when things started to feel strange. His familiar one-room apartment suddenly looked like utter chaos. Unable to sit still, Hwi-young bustled aimlessly around the house—straightening his desk for no reason, opening the fridge to let cold air wash over his face.
A little while later, the bathroom door opened, and through the white steam, Kwak Somi emerged.
Even though he'd deliberately picked the smallest clothes he owned, they still hung loose on her, the shoulder seams slipping down her arms. Her bare, unmade-up face was brimming with a girlish innocence that hadn't quite faded yet. A sudden heat rushed up the back of Hwi-young's neck.
Was his cold coming back? It wasn't time for another dose of medicine yet, but his body burned hot and his vision swam.
“All done washing up.”
...Why would you announce that. There was no need to say it, and yet she said it so earnestly.
A ridiculous, hollow laugh almost escaped him—and then heat unfurled through his whole body all over again. By now, his head was truly swimming.
“Give me your clothes. I'll run the washing machine.”
As he stuffed the crumpled dress Somi held out into the machine—
“Thank you, sunbaenim.”
—her voice brushed his ear. She had crept up right behind him without his noticing. At the same time, the scent of shampoo washed over him. It was the same fragrance he always caught from his own hair, yet somehow his breath caught in his throat.
Feeling the world tilt, Hwi-young shuffled over on unsteady feet and sat down on the edge of his bed.
“Somi... I'll drive you home in a bit.”
“No, no. It's fine. I can go by myself. You don't have to.”
Another no.
For some reason, that rubbed him the wrong way.
“Really, I'm fine. I know the way, and of course I can—”
Then, as if sensing something off, Somi leaned her face in close.
“Sunbaenim, are you feeling unwell?”
Those round eyes were right in front of him. His feverish head swayed dizzily.
“Sunbaenim...”
Had the fever actually driven me out of my mind?
“What were you going to say earlier?”
Even to himself, the words came out of nowhere.
“Back in front of the restaurant. What you were trying to tell me.”
Somi began to visibly waver. Only then did he feel a little better—even about the way she'd shoved him away so abruptly in front of the restaurant, which he'd secretly been sulking over.
“Well... sunbaenim. The thing is...”
Go on then. Let's hear it.
Somi moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. As Hwi-young stared blankly at the sight, his Adam's apple bobbed. Something scorching and unnameable slid down beneath his throat and clenched heavy and tight around his lower belly.
“I actually... liked you, sunbae...”
Hwi-young swallowed hard.
“...You liked me?”
Sensing something slightly off in his tone, Somi blinked slowly.
“What? Why are you using past tense?”
At his demand, a dark shadow fell across Somi's eyes. Dropping her gaze, she continued in a quiet murmur.
“I... I heard. That you still can't forget Yeri-sunbae.”
Ah—right, he had heard somewhere that Bae Ye-ri had been spreading rumors like that after their breakup.
And? So what?
“So I'm really not going to like you anymore.”
Snap. Something inside Hwi-young broke.
“I'm trying to sort my feelings out completely. So don't feel burdened!”
“Why?”
“I'm sorry? Oh, well, I just... wanted to say it once and get it all out of my system....”
Get what out of your system.
“No, that's not it. Why.”
By whose permission.
“Why don't you like me anymore?”
“......”
“Why don't you? That's strange.”
Somi studied him with narrowed eyes as he spouted this absurd nonsense.
“Sunbaenim, are you drunk?”
Drunk? On what? I haven't had a single drop of alcohol.
...Or so he thought he said—or did he not? By the time he came to his senses, he was already kissing Somi's lips.
“Hhk—s-su... sunbaenim....”
The small hands pushing at his chest, the tiny voice smothered inside his mouth.
Hwi-young behaved like a man who had abandoned all reason. Flustered at first, Somi soon seemed to give up, meekly closing her eyes and accepting his desperate tongue. When her fingers curled secretly into the front of his t-shirt, a shiver ran through his entire body.
“Haaah, sunbaenim... how did you get this drunk?”
No—I'm not drunk.
But there was no room left to say so. Fine. You're right. I guess I... must be.
“...I guess I am.”
Hwi-young murmured against her lip as he sucked on Somi's lower lip.
What came after was a memory full of holes.
Flashes of sensation struck him like scattered fragments: the soft give of her breasts under his fingertips when he pushed up her t-shirt; the shy nipple stiffening into a sharp point beneath his tongue....
He remembered her legs trembling as she said don't, remembered forcing them apart and devouring her dripping, ready heat like a madman. But once he'd finally pushed inside her, even those scraps of memory broke apart into jagged pieces.
And yet, through all that haze, one thing alone remained impossibly vivid: the narrow, scorching heat of her inner flesh gripping his reddened length and refusing to let go. The feeling of clinging to Somi, pulling her close, losing himself in her—that alone stayed with him in unnatural clarity.
Had he ever, in his entire life, been swept away by pure instinct like that? How far gone must he have been, not to even notice the condom had torn halfway through?
Reason returned only much later. Seeing her small form curled up tight, he felt a tingling impulse to go and clean her up himself. He hurried into the bathroom and came back out with a towel soaked in warm water—
and the room was far too quiet.