The Things I Was Taught to Be Okay With

Won-gyeong kept his gaze fixed on my eyes as he lightly tugged the hair tie with his teeth, then looped it around his own wrist.

The hair tie that hung loosely around my wrist was stretched taut around his.

Won-gyeong let out a satisfied breath with the tie secured there.

He moved his hand again, idly playing with the ends of my hair, then his hand slid upward and sank into my hair.

Unlike hair itself, which had no sensation, the fingers brushing repeatedly over the back of my head made my breathing grow slightly shallow.

To hide my face as it heated up, I wrapped both arms around Won-gyeong’s torso and buried my face completely in his chest.

I pulled him in tightly, embracing his large frame that was too big to fully wrap my arms around.

When I hugged him hard, Won-gyeong gave a small shake of his shoulders and let out a laugh, as if the sensation pleased him.

The sound of his laughter rang pleasantly by my ear.

He laughed very softly, and for once, I was glad that my hearing was good.

That faint sound reached my ears with perfect clarity.

Liking someone could feel this willing.

Just wanting to hear their laughter, and feeling happy simply from hearing it.

Feeling so overwhelmed with fondness that even holding them with all your strength was barely enough.

I suddenly felt like crying again.

But this time, I didn’t get swept away by that rushing tide of emotion.

I could simply be happy that I was holding Won-gyeong.

That was thanks to the system adjusting my favorability.

It wasn’t love.

It was just liking him.

I breathed lazily in Won-gyeong’s arms.

While I felt perfectly fulfilled by a simple hug, Won-gyeong began to fidget more and more, like someone growing restless.

After twisting slightly for a while, he finally placed his hands on my shoulders and gently separated me from his embrace.

I had already guessed the reason when he started shifting.

Recalling the dull pressure that had been pressing against my lower waist for some time now, I started to lower my gaze.

“It’d be better if you didn’t look down.”

Before I could even look, Won-gyeong hurriedly reached out and blocked my line of sight from dropping between his legs.

His gentle face was filled with nothing but flustered embarrassment.

There was nothing to be embarrassed about.

Thinking that coolly, I spoke.

“I’ve been saying this, but if there’s anything you want to do to me, it’s fine.

That’ll help lift the curse faster, and it might even help us get out of this rift.”

Maybe because I said it seriously, my sincerity seemed to reach him.

The flustered look faded from Won-gyeong’s face, replaced by a colder expression that almost looked angry.

He frowned and spoke.

“Why is it fine?”

“It’s fine because it’s fine. Do I need some other reason?”

I tilted my head, genuinely puzzled.

Just like with Jaeyul, I never placed much meaning on physical relationships.

If it happens, it happens.

If I don’t want it, I don’t.

And if it’s necessary, I can do it even if I don’t want to.

With Won-gyeong, whom I liked right now, there was no reason to refuse.

I’d already said we’d forget everything once we left the rift, so I honestly couldn’t understand what the problem was.

Looking down at me as I tilted my head in confusion, Won-gyeong’s face twisted.

Rather than anger, it was sorrow that stained his expression.

“Have you ever thought about why it’s fine for you?”

“No.”

“Have you ever tried to think about it?”

“No.”

“Doya.”

Each time he asked, I shook my head in answer.

At my unhesitating replies, Won-gyeong’s face looked like it was on the verge of tears.

Something like affection, mixed with something close to pity, flickered across his expression.

As if wanting to hide his face, Won-gyeong pulled me into an awkward embrace.

Unlike the full-body hug from earlier, this was a light embrace where he bent down so that only our shoulders touched.

Holding me as if to comfort me, Won-gyeong spoke.

“I wish you weren’t fine with it.”

Even though less of us was touching than before, it felt like warmth spread through my whole body.

It was probably because his voice was especially gentle.

Resting my chin on his shoulder, I moved my lips.

We were close enough that it felt like whispering directly into his ear, so I spoke very softly.

“…Why?”

“Because you wouldn’t be fine.”

I frowned unconsciously.

I was fine.

No matter what people did to me, it meant nothing.

Won-gyeong was someone I liked right now, but I couldn’t let him decide my feelings for me.

I was fine.

I had to be fine.

My feelings toward Won-gyeong would disappear once the curse ended, but if his words changed something inside me, that would remain.

‘Then what happens after that?’

What happens to me, if I’m not fine anymore?

When I think of my first love, the man I shared my first everything with, the man I thought giving everything to still wouldn’t be enough, what happens to me then?

To make that relationship into nothing, I’d decided that every act of love we shared was nothing.

Kisses, intimacy, all of it.

To me, they were just meaningless contact.

They had to be.

Without putting strength into it, I pushed against Won-gyeong’s shoulder where he was holding me.

As his warmth moved away, a chill swept over my body.

Ignoring the cold, I spoke.

“Let’s stop this conversation. If you don’t want to, then don’t.”

“Doya.”

“Please, Won-gyeong. Stop.”

For the first time, I called his name.

At my voice, close to a plea, his body stiffened.

Won-gyeong bit down briefly on his lip, then finally relaxed his expression.

Forcing out a laugh that sounded almost like a sigh, he spoke.

“I’ll tie your hair back.”

In the end, he changed the subject, following my lead.

Standing behind me, Won-gyeong tied my hair up high.

As if he knew that tying it low was meant to hide my neckline, he pressed light kisses against the pale skin of my exposed neck.

His manner was extremely careful.

When I turned around, rubbing at the back of my neck from the ticklish sensation, Won-gyeong smiled gently and sat me down on the chair.

Then he returned to the seat across from me and tapped the paper lightly.

It was a signal to return to talking about the rift.

I clasped my hands together on the table and lowered my gaze to the paper lying there.

This rift had the unusual characteristic of being a hotel.

If there was a way to leave without fighting the monsters, maybe we could lean into that peculiarity.

The thought came to me, and I voiced it immediately.

“Since this is a hotel, what about trying to ‘check out’?”

“They said we can stay for a year. I doubt they’ll let us leave that easily.”

“True.”

I nodded, recalling his point.

Unless the checkout time was near, we’d been given a full year.

Of course the monsters wouldn’t let us go easily.

“Then I guess the only option is finding the queen bee and killing it.

What do you think after checking my strength just now? Could I handle it?”

“Even if it’s an entity with no combat ability, it’d be difficult without a weapon.

You could get seriously hurt.”

So my strength really was that lacking…

I nodded gloomily.

Seeing me slump my head down, Won-gyeong reached out and gently rubbed my cheek as if to soothe me, smiling slightly.

At the sight of his encouraging smile, I muttered a thank-you, then spoke clearly about the rift again.

“I think we’ll need an ID card to move around the hotel freely.”

“Ah, actually, I was about to talk about that ID card too.”

“What about it?”

As if recalling something he’d forgotten, Won-gyeong let out a low exclamation and continued.

“For the queen bee to issue commands to other entities, it can’t be done easily.

To receive commands, there has to be some kind of ‘medium.’”

A medium…

I tilted my head to signal for him to continue.

“If the other monsters possess something created by the queen bee, that’s what makes transferring consciousness possible.

And according to this notice, every guest except us carries an ID card.”

“Then what about the staff?”

“This notice, probably.

It says new content can be added anytime at staff request, so they’d have to carry it to check updates as soon as they’re added.”

It made sense.

As I turned his explanation over in my head, something else occurred to me.

“Then entities without ID cards or notices would probably have ‘identification tags.’”

“Like this?”

“Yeah. And what’s written here… ah, I can read it now.

It says, ‘This organism is the property of the hotel.’”

“What else?”

It wasn’t something I wanted to say, but I fumbled over my words and spoke anyway.

“‘No reproductive function. Used for feed.’”

“…So reproductive capability really is important.”

I’d hesitated because I didn’t know how he’d react, but unlike before, Won-gyeong didn’t react strongly.

He was watching my reaction instead.

Grateful for his consideration, I voiced my confusion.

“Hotel-owned organisms—monsters—were wandering outside the rift.

The queen bee must’ve been controlling them. So how did they get out?”

At my question, Won-gyeong’s eyes quickly scanned down the notice.

His gaze stopped at one particular item.

Pointing to the line he was reading, he said,

“Doesn’t that seem related to item number four?”