Chapter 48: The Worst Morning [R-18]

“…Ugh…”

Her throat burned. Before her eyes were even fully open, Seojin shot upright.

No, to be precise, she staggered and crawled up.

Her stomach churned, and her throat was so parched she could barely breathe. A throbbing headache pulsed through her skull, as if someone were hammering it from the inside.

“…Hah, ah…”

Her mind couldn’t remember what had happened yesterday, but her body remembered everything.

Pushing the sheets away with every muscle in her feet and fumbling for the edge of the headboard with her hands, Seojin managed to stumble and crawl her way to the bathroom door.

There, she plunged her head into the sink as if to bury her face in it and began to dry heave.

“…Retch—!”

Bitter stomach acid rose in her throat—the result of pounding down drink after drink with no food. The lingering taste of alcohol on her tongue was a sensation she couldn’t recall at all after she’d willfully joined that other group.

Shaking uncontrollably, Seojin turned on the faucet. She held her face over the sink, splashing cold water onto her forehead and cheeks with both hands.

“…Shit… what the hell…”

As she finally lifted her head, her reflection stared back at her from the mirror. Her hair was a tangled mess, the corners of her eyes were red and swollen, and a faint, dried stain marked the corner of her mouth.

What did I do to end up looking like this?

Frowning deeply, Seojin scanned the bathroom with wary eyes, having no memory of even coming here.

But the strangely quiet and tidy space simply gleamed, as if to say it meant her no harm. The walls looked like marble, and the towels were high-quality imports embroidered with a hotel logo.

“…Where is this…”

Given her circumstances, she’d never been anywhere near a place like this, so she couldn’t immediately recognize it. Besides, as her mind slowly cleared, her body began to react.

“…Ngh…”

Her abdomen ached.

A dull pain started deep in her womb and spread down between her thighs.

Her legs and hips throbbed from being held apart for too long, and she felt a subtle twitching deep inside.

Only then did the unwelcome sensations begin to creep back.

The feeling that this body had once again been used by someone, and then abandoned.

“…Hah, seriously.”

Seojin leaned against the edge of the sink. Her body felt as heavy as lead. Just having her eyes open, just standing here, felt like a miracle.

After retching and splashing more water on her face, Seojin, who had been catching her breath while leaning on the sink, slowly straightened up.

Her head still hurt and her stomach was still churning, but more than anything, she was anxious.

Who had taken her last night? Even if it had been all of them… what was this room?

Seojin braced herself against the wall. Placing a palm on the cold tile, she staggered out of the bathroom.

The interior of the suite was completely silent.

“…Was it this big?”

The suite, seen now from the bathroom, had a layout she hadn’t registered at all when she first arrived.

The living room and bedroom were separate, and the interior, a mix of marble and monochrome fabrics, was refined and luxurious.

What captured her attention most was the glass window that took up an entire wall. Beyond it, the daytime scenery of Seoul’s glittering skyscrapers unfolded without obstruction.

As if mesmerized, she went to the window and gripped the glass, her mouth agape. Her brow, which had smoothed out, furrowed once more against the dazzling light.

“Hah, unbelievable…”

Finally coming to her senses, she looked back at the living room. The sofa was pristine. There were no glasses, not even a trace of anyone having slept there.

Seojin started walking again, stepping toward the other bedroom and looking around. Besides her own grimy self, everything was polished as if brand new.

No one was there.

Realizing she barely had the strength to stand, Seojin rubbed her thighs and managed to drag her exhausted legs back to the bed.

She collapsed onto the bed, face down. A sound that was half sigh, half cough escaped from deep in her chest. Tangled hair stuck to the back of her neck with warm sweat.

It was then.

As she turned her head, her eyes caught something on the bedside table: a single white memo.

“…?”

Still lying face down, Seojin stretched out her arm.

She barely managed to move her exhausted body enough to grasp it. Inside the half-crumpled note was a man’s scrawled handwriting.

「I’ll be waiting. Come down to the first floor.

Let’s get breakfast. -R-」

When the hell did he write this?

Lying with her cheek pressed to the pillow, Seojin stared down at the note and pressed her lips together tightly.

The ordeal of searching the room for him, the exhaustion and disgust, surged up inside her.

A familiar tone.

And the ‘-R-’ at the end.

It was Rio.

Seojin closed her eyes. In her last memory from yesterday, she had been furious. She’d felt like shit, and she’d hated being cast aside.

Still, it was Rio.

And yet, the moment Seojin found a trace of ‘Rio’ in this note, not the scent of a ‘stranger,’ a sense of relief washed over her.

“…This is so messed up…”

A whisper no one could hear.

She didn’t know what time it was or when he had left the note, but as long as he wasn’t coming back, she had to go down, if only to resolve the subtle guilt of making him wait.

Staggering to her feet, Seojin quickly tidied herself up in the bathroom and then began searching for her military uniform, opening drawers and cupboards until she reached the closet and opened its doors.

But inside, hanging as if to command her to expose her body, was a single dark brown club dress.

Her uniform was gone. There was no underwear, nothing.

Seojin stood frozen for a long moment, staring at the dress. She couldn’t help but feel dazed. She’d never even seen a dress like this outside of yesterday’s debauched party.

Me… I have to wear this?

But the empty storage spaces she had already opened seemed to mock her, as if asking if she hadn’t already figured it out.

Steeling herself, Seojin carefully took the dress out. The fabric flowed over her hand the moment she touched it, and she instinctively closed her eyes.

“…Hah…”

The pounding in her heart, felt even before she put it on, wasn’t excitement. It wasn’t hesitation, either. It was pure shame.

The fabric was short, thin, and flimsy. Carefully, as if inserting herself into it so it wouldn’t tear, Seojin put on the dress and faced her reflection in the mirror.

Her breath caught.

…It’s cut too low.

Her cleavage was already deep thanks to her full breasts, and the fabric showed no intention of riding up, even though she hadn’t pulled it on carelessly.

It was so tight around her waist that it felt rigid when she took a deep breath. The fabric fell from her hips to wrap around her thighs, but that was it.

The hem was so short it felt like the slightest movement would expose everything underneath.

The woman in the mirror had only put on this one dress, but in an instant, she looked just like one of the guests from yesterday’s party—like someone’s ornament.

As she left the room, Seojin kept trying to pull the hem down, but it wouldn’t budge. The dress was designed to be that short.

She couldn’t lift her head to look at her reflection in the elevator walls. The dress’s thin straps clung to her shoulders, and her skin was practically exposed from her chest to her thighs.

Her body, once held tight beneath her uniform, now looked so… easy. With no underwear, the flowing fabric clung to her thighs with every step, and Seojin instinctively pressed her legs together.

She had muttered “it’s fine” to herself like a mantra on her way out, but it wasn’t fine.

The elevator descended with hateful slowness. Inside, she felt like the person she saw wasn’t her at all.

“…Haaah…”

The doors opened.

The lobby of a luxury hotel. Soft piano music drifted through the air, and the pleasant scent of high-end amenities spread slowly.

On a late weekday morning, the person who fit most naturally into this quiet, refined space was Rio, waiting for her.

Holding an open newspaper in one hand, his shirt unbuttoned twice, and a pair of sunglasses hooked onto his collar, the man was sitting half-reclined on a sofa.

Seojin froze for a moment when she saw him.

Is he on vacation or something?

As she hesitantly approached the sofa, Rio tilted his head, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

“—How’s your head?”

His tone was full of feigned concern, a smooth act.

“Bad hangover?”

He tapped the table with one hand, his eyes still on the newspaper.

“If you don’t think you can handle breakfast, room service is always an option.”

It was a gesture for her to sit next to him. As Seojin, mindful of her attire, carefully sat down on the sofa, he turned his eyes back to the paper.

She consciously pressed her knees together and folded her hands over her thighs, not on the table.

This dress was too revealing.

It might have been acceptable in the darkness of the club in the early morning hours, but under the morning sun of the hotel lobby, it felt transparent.

The short, soft fabric rode up the moment she sat down, and the neckline plunged deeply even in a seated position.

But Rio, even after seeing her outfit, acted as if it were just another morning, as if he were casually asking a woman who’d just woken up, “Want some coffee?”

She was fighting the urge to snatch the newspaper he was reading and cover herself with it when he spoke.

“It was hard to find clothes in your size this morning…”

He tilted his head slightly and smiled.

“So you’ll have to cut me some slack.”

Seojin blinked. His words felt more like a provocation. She hadn’t even been wondering where this dress came from or when it had been prepared.

“This isn’t an awards ceremony, so it doesn’t matter who wore it the day before, right?”

That tone, that smile, that leisurely gaze—a chill ran down Seojin’s spine.

…No way.

Rio, seeing Seojin’s horrified expression, offered the words she didn’t want to hear.

“…Mm. She was nice. Took it right off when I said I needed it.”

The dress belonged to his one-night stand, a woman whose name he seemed unable to recall.

Seojin lowered her gaze.

She shut her lips and tightened her grip on the hands resting on her knees.

She was already sitting next to him, an accessory to his mockery. Beside her, Rio smiled nonchalantly.

“So, what’ll it be for breakfast, my lady?”

Translated By: Meher (RaidenTL)

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