The Weight of an Answer

“What are you doing.”

“Don’t.”

When I realized where Jeong Iheon was about to place his lips as he burrowed into the inside of my thigh, panic hit me.

He kissed the soft flesh of my inner thigh, inching closer and closer to my s*x.

Something that could have ended with simple penetration was being made unnecessarily complicated.

When I pushed his head away in alarm, Jeong Iheon grabbed my wrist.

In a flat tone that carried no emotion at all, he said,

“You’ll get hurt.”

“I’m not— I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t do things like this….”

This wasn’t an act meant to make either of us feel good.

It was just a means to escape the rift.

I flinched as goosebumps rose at the touch of his breath and spoke while shrinking back, but Jeong Iheon didn’t even pretend to listen.

He merely repeated the same words in a mechanical tone.

“You’ll get hurt.”

I said I wouldn’t get hurt, so who was he to decide otherwise.

And even if I did get hurt, what did that have to do with Jeong Iheon?

With my wrist trapped in his grip and one leg resting on his shoulder, I couldn’t push him away or run.

If I’d been lying down, I could’ve at least kicked him.

Regret came too late as I felt his lips slowly closing in on my s*x.

He kissed my inner thigh several times, yet for a long while, he didn’t touch my s*x itself.

It was completely different from Hyeon Jaeyul, who’d gone straight in without knowing anything.

Jeong Iheon looked like someone who needed a kind of mental preparation before doing anything to me.

Was that really the right word for it?

As he continued kissing my thigh, he was trying to calm the heart that was pounding violently.

Since I couldn’t even cover my ears this time, he seemed oddly irritated.

He took deep breaths while stopping me from instinctively trying to close my legs.

I wished he’d realize how utterly deranged this must look from above.

I trembled, staring down at Jeong Iheon’s hair.

When my body shook slightly, he froze mid-kiss.

He pulled his lips away from my skin and lifted his head a little to check my expression.

After seeing my face, Jeong Iheon muttered weakly,

“I thought you were crying.”

Why would I cry?

The one who cried easily wasn’t me. It was Jeong Iheon.

Even now, his face was a mess of emotions he couldn’t handle.

It was definitely not the face of a man about to have s*x.

I spoke to the man who had his face buried between my legs like some kind of pervert.

“You look like you’re about to cry.”

“I’m not hurt, really.”

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“It’s the opposite.”

As soon as he answered, he lightly kissed my lower abdomen.

Resting his lips against my soft skin, Jeong Iheon continued saying things I couldn’t understand.

“I’ve imagined it.”

“Imagined what?”

“What’s under your clothes.”

“…You’re a pervert.”

“Maybe.”

He let out a quiet laugh at my question.

It was forced.

His face was still stiff, so it was obvious he was saying lighthearted things to calm himself.

In the week we’d spent together, Jeong Iheon had never shown any sign of this.

He’d been scrupulously proper with me.

I’d never once sensed desire directed at me from his behavior, which was why I’d often fallen asleep beside him without thinking.

It wasn’t something you’d normally do next to someone who had tied you up, and even I found my own behavior strange.

Jeong Iheon was—

I recalled the sense of ease I’d felt from the very first time I met him.

He’d naturally offered me his arm, and I’d leaned against it and fallen asleep without any resistance.

Thinking about my usual self, it was absurd.

No matter how much I pretended to be unguarded, that wasn’t an act.

I’d genuinely fallen asleep.

‘We’d known each other for less than three days back then.’

Looking down at Jeong Iheon’s ash-gray hair as he breathed against my lower abdomen, I spoke.

If he wouldn’t answer, then I’d guide him to it.

“Jeong Iheon.”

“I feel way too familiar with you.”

Jeong Iheon could immediately tell when I was lying.

It wasn’t magic like Won-gyeong’s, nor did it seem like mind-reading.

That ability only seemed to grow sharper the longer we stayed together.

So everything I said to him had to be true.

Thinking about the strange sense of intimacy I felt toward him, I murmured,

“I want to know why you feel familiar.”

When I said it in a quiet voice, a long breath brushed my skin.

Jeong Iheon sighed.

In a slightly more relaxed tone than before, he said,

“I told you.”

“If I tell you why, you’ll die.”

It was an answer I still couldn’t understand.

Frowning, I asked,

“So you’re saying you won’t tell me?”

“Not at all.”

“…Then don’t act like you know me so well.”

“It’s unpleasant.”

Acting like you know something I don’t only leaves me feeling uncomfortable.

When I said that coldly, Jeong Iheon let out another sighing laugh and rested his head against my lower abdomen.

It wasn’t sexual.

It felt more like a desperate plea for comfort.

Since I was still wearing my top, his hair didn’t touch my skin, only brushing softly against the fabric.

I twitched my fingers, about to touch his hair, before realizing my wrist was still in his grip.

…If he hadn’t been holding my wrist, I would have put my hand in his hair.

Without even thinking.

That realization filled me with something close to unease.

‘I don’t know anything.’

‘Why do I feel this way toward Jeong Iheon?’

I clenched my fist tightly and bit my lip.

If I didn’t restrain myself, I felt like I’d say something gentle to him.

Like I had that night, when I apologized without even realizing it.

Grinding my teeth, I spoke sharply on purpose.

“I said it’s unpleasant.”

“…I get it.”

“You don’t have to keep saying it.”

Jeong Iheon released my wrist and wrapped one arm around my waist.

Clinging to me as he hugged me, he rubbed his head lightly and answered,

“I won’t do it anymore.”

His voice was fragile, like it might snap.

“I won’t do that again…”

“So just for today… just this once, please bear with me….”

If he was going to act this painfully affectionate, I thought it would be better for him to just tell me what he was hiding.

If knowing the secret would kill me?

What kind of secret could that possibly be?

I wanted to press him further, yet at the same time, I didn’t want to see him suffering.

The contradiction was unsettling.

In the end, I loosened the fist I’d been clenching.

“…Fine.”

“Just don’t cry.”

I placed my hand on his soft ash-gray hair and gently stroked it.

He had already been crying before he clung to me.

I still had no idea what it was about me that drew tears from him.

I only knew that I couldn’t stand seeing him cry.

Since Jeong Iheon clearly had no intention of telling me his secret, all I could do was comfort him without knowing anything.

If I knew the reason, I could be kinder.

“I’m not actually that uncomfortable.”

I spoke while threading my fingers through the hair of Jeong Iheon, who could only shed miserable tears without being able to answer.

It probably wasn’t something to say while standing half-naked with my thigh hooked over a man’s shoulder.

But honestly, did it matter?

“I won’t ask anymore.”
“So please, just stop crying.”

I was the one who raised the white flag first.

“I don’t know why, but…”

“Jeong Iheon, I don’t want to see you cry.”

Not long after I patted his head, Jeong Iheon seemed to calm down.

Then, perhaps ashamed of his own behavior, he suddenly pressed his lips to my s*x without warning.

“Hey, Jeong Iheon— wait….”

Startled by the abrupt shift, I tightened my grip on his hair.

I was holding it hard enough to feel like I might rip it out, but he didn’t even flinch.

There were still traces of his tears on my clothes, yet before they’d even dried, his face was already buried between my legs.

What kind of—

I tried to protest, but his tongue pressed against my clit first.

My body shuddered violently.

The protest that never became words scattered into a moan.

“Ah….”

The man who had smiled sharply at me now moved his lips with infinite care.

I felt like I’d turned into some kind of sugar sculpture.

“It’s strange.”

“It’s nothing like I imagined.”

Jeong Iheon said calmly, his voice free of tears.

I wished he wouldn’t talk so freely from between my legs.

Every brush of his breath made my hips twitch.

I knew what he meant.

It was about my smooth s*x, hairless by nature.

I glared down at the head of a twenty-seven-year-old man who was acting like this was his first time.

Did he even realize how perverted he looked, kissing a private place without permission and now poking around with his fingers, examining the shape?

He parted the slit and muttered while staring at the entrance in front of him,

“It’s so tight.”

Like he was attending a s*x-ed class, he examined my body with care.

After studying the small opening that looked like it could barely take a finger, he lightly rubbed the clit protruding above it with his thumb.

“Stop staring and just put it in…!”

“You’ll tear.”

“I said I don’t care.”

“I do.”

Since it looked less like foreplay and more like satisfying his curiosity, I protested, tugging hard at Jeong Iheon’s hair.

“You’re not doing anything!”

“You’re just looking!”

Not even touching me properly!

I tried to yank his head away, but whether his roots were strong or my strength was weak, I couldn’t pull him off.

Probably the latter.