Before I had time to steady my breathing, our lips met again and he pulled me closer.

Even then, I could see my reflection in his eyes.

My own face felt unfamiliar.

We kissed repeatedly, pausing only to catch our breath before losing ourselves in each other once more.

No words were spoken.

At some point, I found myself pressed against the wall, accepting him without resistance. Each time I tilted my head to kiss him more deeply, the sharp bridge of his nose would brush against my cheek, sending a faint shiver through me.

Sometimes, my hands would clench into fists.

At other times, when it became too much, I clutched at his shoulders.

Yet I didn’t want to pull away.

In fact, I tiptoed up to meet him.

Then, suddenly, he lifted me, and my feet came to rest on top of his.

Feeling as steady as if I were standing on solid ground, I rose to meet his gaze.

Even then, he towered over me by a head.

Looking him in the eye, I parted my lips and leaned into him again. As I pressed closer, his eyes softened and curved slightly.

Then he lifted me once more.

Stronger than before.

Kim Yong-beom took my hands, which had been gripping his shoulders, and guided them around the back of his neck. As he held me up, supporting my weight, the space between us disappeared completely.

Startled, all I could do was cling tightly to him.

Our lips never truly parted. His warmth lingered, drawing me in again and again. Each time I blinked, the scene seemed to shift: his broad back reflected in the window, a framed picture of unfamiliar flowers, and the restless sea beyond the glass.

When I looked up at the yellowed ceiling, I realized that I had been laid down on the sofa.

Our lips finally separated.

Kim Yong-beom looked down at me, his body hovering close by, breathing roughly and unevenly. Wherever his breath brushed against me, my body tensed instinctively.

I didn’t need to look to know that the hand braced beside my head was sunk deep into the sofa.

Using the tilt of the cushions as an excuse, I turned my face away.

For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

“Mm…”

When Kim Yong-beom pushed his tongue deep into my mouth, almost touching my throat, I let out a sound unintentionally.

Holding my breath made my heart pound harder and my ears ring as though the world had been muffled.

The sound of the waves crashing faded away, and all I could hear was the soft, tangled sound of our kiss. Even the slightest tremble of my lashes felt unbearably vivid.

Just as I reached my limit, I caught the hand cupping my cheek.

Gripping his wrist as though it were a lifeline, I tightened my hold — and only then did a small gap open between our lips.

With only our upper lips still touching, I finally let out the breath I had been holding.

“Ha… haa…”

When I opened my eyes, I saw Kim Yong-beom looking down at me.

I saw myself in his pitch-black eyes.

I was breathless, with an unfamiliar expression on my face.

Before I could steady my breathing, our lips met again and he pulled me closer. Even then, I could see my reflection in his gaze — my own face was still unfamiliar to me.

We kissed repeatedly, pausing only to catch our breath, before losing ourselves in each other once more.

No words passed between us.

At some point, I found myself pressed against the wall, accepting him without resistance. Each time I tilted my head to kiss him more deeply, the sharp bridge of his nose would brush against my cheek, sending a faint shiver through me.

Sometimes, my hands would curl into fists.

At other times, when it became too much, I clutched at his shoulders.

Yet I didn’t want to pull away.

In fact, I tiptoed up to meet him more fully.

Then, suddenly, he lifted me, and my feet came to rest on top of his.

As if I were standing on solid ground, I rose higher to meet his gaze.

Nevertheless, he was still a head taller than me.

I held his gaze, parted my lips, leaned in, and met him more fully. As I pressed closer, his eyes softened and curved ever so slightly.

Then he lifted me again.

Stronger than before.

Kim Yong-beom took my hands, which had been clutching his shoulders, and guided them around the back of his neck. As he held me up, supporting my weight, the space between us disappeared completely.

Startled, all I could do was cling tightly to him.

Our lips stayed close, his warmth lingering as he drew me in again. Each time I blinked, the scene seemed to shift: his broad back was reflected in the window, and I saw a framed picture of unfamiliar flowers and the restless sea beyond the glass.

When I looked up at the yellowed ceiling, I realized that I had been laid down on the sofa.

At last, our lips parted.

Kim Yong-beom looked down at me, his body hovering close by, breathing roughly and unevenly. Wherever his breath brushed against me, my body tensed instinctively.

I didn’t need to look to know that the hand braced beside my head was sunk deep into the sofa.

Using the tilt of the cushions as an excuse, I turned my face away.

For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze right now.

“Mm…”

His tongue traced slowly along my neck.

Wherever it touched, it burned — hot enough to sting.

When he pulled away, the damp skin he left behind turned cold as the air brushed over it.

I shook my head, trying to pull away, but Kim Yong-beom continued along my neck and shoulder.

I fixed my gaze on a spot on the ceiling and forced myself to breathe, but my breaths became uneven.

Still, he didn’t stop.

His warmth slid past my jaw, brushing over it as he moved on to the curve of my ear. The faint, damp sound felt unbearably vivid.

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to bear it any longer, when suddenly his hand gently turned my chin back towards him.

The hand that had been stroking my cheek stopped moving and I could hear his low voice sinking deep into me.

“Lee Chun-hee. Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Are you okay?”

“…I’m scared.”

I didn’t understand it.

Why did it feel so overwhelming? And why did it feel so good that it almost hurt? Why couldn’t I stop?

No —

Even without understanding, I knew this much: I wanted to be close to him, too.

The man I had once hated so much — now I wanted to hold him tight.

When he tried to pull away, as if to give me space, I reached out and stopped him.

“It’s scary… because it feels too good.”

Why?

And why you?

They said that selling your body was the easiest way to survive.

My mother said so.

The women said so.

Even the thugs said so.

But not for me.

It disgusted me. I hated it.

Things I should have grown used to made me feel sick.

I would rather have cut off my own hair or hit my face against a wall than be touched by a man.

And yet—

Why don’t I hate this?

Why do I keep wanting to reach for you?

I cupped Kim Yong-beom’s face in both hands.

His eyes, which had been burning just moments ago, now trembled.

His lips parted slightly, but no words came.

I could feel the steady rise and fall of his throat beneath my fingertips.

I looked at him without wavering.

“I’m scared… but I don’t want to stop.”

What did you do to me to make me like this?

There was nothing repulsive about it.

Nothing unbearable.

The words spilled out of me: how I used to hate being touched, how a gaze like that made me want to tear my own skin apart, and how I wanted to rip out the eyes of anyone who looked at me that way.

“But not you.”

I held him tighter.

“I don’t want to let go.”

I touched Kim Yong-beom.

The hand that had been resting on his cheek moved—tracing his thick brows, the long line of his eyes, the sharp bridge of his nose, and finally his lips, still damp with my saliva.

“Me too. I feel the same.”

Chun-hee—just hearing him say my name sent a shiver through me.

“I don’t want to be apart from you.”

Tears escaped from the corners of my eyes, pooling faintly in my ears. Everything felt distant and quiet, as if the world had drifted away.

I only want to touch you.

Kim Yong-beom’s low voice seemed to sink straight into my skin, urging me to take responsibility for those words rather than simply reaching my ears.

He brushed away my tears with his lips, tracing the dampness at the corners of my eyes and along my ears. Then our lips met again.

I parted my lips, letting him draw me in more deeply.

The arm around my waist loosened for a moment and, in that brief instant, his hand slipped beneath my clothes. It brushed over my stomach, moved upwards, and came to rest against my chest.

The fabric shifted, revealing the white undergarment beneath — the one he had bought for me.

I had been seen like this before, yet I was still overcome with tension.

Nevertheless, a small smile found its way to my lips — I was relieved that I was no longer wearing the old things I had once had.

He looked at me as if to ask why.

I only shook my head.

Kim Yong-beom smiled, too.

Then he pulled me up and held me close.

As he began to undress me, I lifted my arms without resistance and followed his lead.

N*ked beneath his gaze, I endured the quiet heat in his eyes.

“I’m cold.”

It was a lie.

My body was burning, but I curled up slightly as I spoke.

Kim Yong-beom quickly took off his clothes and pulled me into his arms.

His warm, solid, bare body pressed fully against mine.

Firm.

Soft.

Hot.

In his embrace, I felt myself beginning to melt like the chocolate I had tasted long ago.

At this rate, I thought, I might dissolve completely and lose my shape entirely.

The thought scared me.

Yet it also made me curious.

“What do we do now?”

“I want to hold you.”

“You already are.”

“I want to be inside you.”

Carefully, I placed my hand over the hardness pressing against my lower stomach.

“This…”

I didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

Kim Yong-beom didn’t avoid my touch. He simply looked at me—and nodded.

“If you allow me… I want to.”

One moment, his face looked like that of a ruthless thug; the next, it looked as though he were untouched by the world.

I couldn’t read him — and I liked that.

This time, I was the one who leaned in first.

When he entered me, everything went white.

My thoughts scattered completely.

My heart was pounding so fast that I thought I might die.

Fear made me struggle — I pushed at his chest with my feet and tried to twist away, but it was useless.

His grip was relentless — he held on and wouldn’t let go.

“Kim Yong-beom… Kim Yong-beom…”

I called his name out loud.

I wanted to know if his heart was racing like mine, if he was in as much pain and if he felt as overwhelmed as I did.

Then I stopped struggling.

Instead, I pulled him closer.

Only when our bare chests pressed together without a gap did I finally feel at ease.

Thump. Thump.

His heart was pounding against me, like waves crashing ashore.