RB - 28

Chapter 28. Brilliantly Beautiful, Young Man

Such an uncooperative prey.

Jung-hyuk spread Seo-yeon’s lips, where his lips had just been, with his fingers, stirring the soft mucous membrane inside. At the same time, her white, slender body wriggled from side to side, and her inner walls contracted, tightening around Jung-hyuk’s fingers.

Since Jung-hyuk himself was being devoured, perhaps Seo-yeon was the predator in this game. Jung-hyuk’s hardened manhood entered Seo-yeon’s inner walls. A gasp escaped Jung-hyuk’s lips at the pressure of passing through the narrow passage. At the same time, Seo-yeon gave up covering her mouth and clung to his arms.

“Haa... haa, ha.”

Seo-yeon broke out in a cold sweat at the sensation of her lower body being filled tightly. But this was only the beginning, not the end. Jung-hyuk ran his hand over Seo-yeon’s flat abdomen and moved his hips. His manhood, which had been enduring all along, writhed like a fish in water. Seo-yeon’s toes, lifted in the air, shook helplessly. Her shallow moans rang in Jung-hyuk’s ears like music.

Jung-hyuk moved his body back and forth repeatedly, but Seo-yeon knew the subtle consideration mixed in his rough movements. Jung-hyuk was gritting his teeth, barely suppressing his desire to move faster. As emotions were added to lust, pleasure soared towards its peak. Rising without knowing where the ceiling was, Seo-yeon’s flat abdomen was filled to the brim.

Finally, the moment Seo-yeon’s legs wrapped around Jung-hyuk’s waist, she revealed that she was craving pleasure with her whole body. Her intensely heated senses replaced screams with tightly squeezing legs.

“Haa... haa, ha.”

It became impossible to tell whether the splashing friction sound came from sweat or bodily fluids. The small dressing room was filled with moisture. As Jung-hyuk’s waist was violently swung, Seo-yeon’s nails dug into his back. With heavy breaths, Jung-hyuk released all the evidence of his desire.

It was the night the “sea” he had spoken of came in blue.

That night, Seo-yeon fell asleep, fearing that she might be confusing lust with affection, and that after entrusting herself to the pleasure he guaranteed, she would eventually face the disaster of ennui.

And the next day, Friday, the morning of her day off.

Due to a series of events, shame, anxiety, worry, and the tragedies of the past few days, Seo-yeon was on the verge of collapsing.

However, Seo-yeon performed the feat of making an omelette rice for young Yoon-ah, and fortunately, the child was quiet and patient, waiting for her mother while watching Netflix.

Instead of going to work, Seo-yeon deeply immersed herself in a bathtub full of hot water. The water was so hot that it felt like all the senses in her body would be cooked. The bathroom mirror was filled with hazy steam, and Seo-yeon’s mind was also filled with a damp fog.

“If I smell a good scent, will I feel better?”

Seo-yeon had lit scented candles in advance, but they didn’t seem to have any effect today. She suddenly thought that Shin Jung-hyuk’s musk scent might give her more peace of mind. She shook her head violently and muttered.

“I’m crazy, Han Seo-yeon. I’m completely losing it.”

The feeling of becoming more and more dependent on Jung-hyuk was unpleasant and natural. It was a contradiction.

It was then that the phone on the bathtub shelf vibrated. Seo-yeon roughly wiped the water off her hands with a towel and answered the phone.

“Alright, Jin-hyuk.”

“Miss Han, should I head out now?”

Seriously, why are you so excited?

Jin-hyuk’s voice was laced with unmistakable anticipation, which sent a faint ripple through Seo-yeon’s heavy heart. She suppressed a smirk and shot back at him with a sharp remark.

“Are you excited, Jin-hyuk? Is following me to the orphanage that thrilling? My slapped cheek is still throbbing, you know?”

The problem was that her tone came off gentler than intended, so Jin-hyuk didn’t quite perceive it as a rebuke.

“Ah... No, it’s not like that. I also happen to have some business at the orphanage, so since our destinations align, it makes sense to go together.”

Ever since the incident where Seo-yeon had been physically assaulted by Kim Hyeon-ae in the office, Jin-hyuk had been acting like an obedient puppy—no, more like a pitiful, cowering dog, which made him somewhat endearing despite his misdeeds.

How should I punish this “pretend-to-be-good” bad dog?

Seo-yeon curled her lips into a sly smile. Droplets of water dripped from her freshly bathed body.

After a brief moment of contemplation, she settled on the command: Wait.

“Stay put and wait for my call. It won’t take long.”

Click. Placing her phone back on the shelf, Seo-yeon sank her body once more into the now lukewarm bathwater.

Her promise—”It won’t take long, so wait”—wasn’t a lie.

True to her word, she called Jin-hyuk just two hours later, and he arrived at her doorstep almost instantly, as if he’d been waiting nearby all along.

“Get in. Miss Han.”

Not a princess, nor a patient—why was he opening the car door for her? Was his guilt still weighing heavily on him?

She tossed him a teasing grin before climbing into the passenger seat. He mirrored her faint smile and closed the door gently behind her.

The pleasant scent of citral wafted through the car. It felt like aromatherapy she hadn’t gotten in the bathroom. Leaning back comfortably in the seat, Seo-yeon closed her eyes.

Her original plan had been to nap after her bath and visit the orphanage in the afternoon. But Jin-hyuk had blatantly ruined that perfectly reasonable schedule. Strangely, she didn’t feel irritated by it.

“Being annoying while remaining unannoying is quite the talent, you know. Are you aware of that?”

Seo-yeon shot a glance at Jin-hyuk in the driver’s seat. His sharp nose seemed deliberately designed to rile her up, and she teased him with a mix of jest and threat.

“Jin-hyuk, if you pull one more stunt like this under the guise of helping me, I’ll kill you for real, got it? That was the first time I’ve ever been slapped in my life.”

Jin-hyuk straightened his posture and shook his head vigorously. Beads of cold sweat formed on his perfectly smooth forehead. After delivering her stern warning, Seo-yeon turned her gaze toward the window, watching cherry blossoms drift past wistfully.

Even following the navigation system, it would take a while to navigate the winding roads on the outskirts of the city to reach Han Sarang Orphanage. Yet Jin-hyuk drove as if he were familiar with the route, skillfully maneuvering through the national highway. This made Seo-yeon even more curious about his connection to the orphanage.

She wondered if he might be an adoptee, given his mention of a “pitiful and tragic story,” but refrained from jumping to conclusions about someone else’s personal affairs.

About 30 minutes later, thanks to Jin-hyuk’s impeccable driving, they arrived at the orphanage earlier than expected.

The faded exterior walls of the orphanage, the peeling paint on the iron signboard and gate, stirred bittersweet memories in Seo-yeon’s heart. Gazing dreamily at the trees lining the path, she spoke to Jin-hyuk.

“I’m going to see the director in the administrative office. You go play with the kids. There’s a soccer ball in the warehouse over there. The kids love playing with it.”

As expected, Jin-hyuk obediently dashed off toward the warehouse like a well-trained puppy. With a slightly more forgiving heart, Seo-yeon opened the door to the administrative office—but she couldn’t find the director.

Inside the cramped five-pyeong office.

Instead of the director, Seo-yeon was greeted by Ji-min, a friend from the orphanage with whom she had a somewhat strained relationship. The reason wasn’t clear, but it was obvious the director was avoiding her. Despite sending a message ahead of time saying she’d visit on Friday, there had been no reply, and now the director had even vacated the premises.

“What? Why are you here, Han Seo-yeon?”

Ji-min, who had lived with Seo-yeon from age ten until they both left the orphanage, was visibly on edge. Seo-yeon sighed and sat down on the visitor’s sofa.

Ji-min continued typing irritably on the keyboard before snapping in a sharp tone:

“Why are you here? State your business. Is this administrative office your personal playground? This is my workplace, you know.”

This was typical Ji-min behavior. When they were younger, they used to play rubber band games and hopscotch together, even sharing heartfelt moments for a brief period. But around puberty, Ji-min began treating Seo-yeon coldly, and during high school, she even led efforts to bully her.

From Seo-yeon’s perspective, it felt like a betrayal from a once-close friend. But Ji-min saw things differently—she always viewed herself as the victim.

The orphanage director had openly favored Seo-yeon, showing preferential treatment even into adulthood, surpassing the attention given to Ji-min, who had practically spent her entire life working in the administrative office.

Breaking the awkward silence, Ji-min’s aggressive voice cut through again.

“Are you ignoring me? Feeling mighty proud because the director favors you?”

Seo-yeon understood the misunderstanding Ji-min harbored and felt the unfairness of being choked by these accusations, but she swallowed her frustration and spoke calmly.

“I came to ask the director something. I contacted them beforehand, but... looks like they’re not here.”

Ji-min sneered, her lips curling mockingly.

“Why do you think the director acted like that? Someone as great as Han Seo-yeon shows up, and they’re supposed to come running, right? So why’d they leave?”

“Don’t pick a fight. I’m not here to argue with you.”

Seo-yeon truly felt wronged. In fact, words were bubbling up in her throat, desperate to be spoken.

“Don’t get it twisted. The director always favored you more. When you wanted to find your biological parents, they traveled all over the country with you, offering help in every way possible. They never did anything like that for me.”

But Seo-yeon swallowed those words forcefully, carving the character for “patience” into her heart instead. Ji-min sat on the opposite sofa and handed her a cold glass of orange juice.

“Here, drink it if you want.”

If she was going to offer it, couldn’t she at least do it nicely? Thirsty, Seo-yeon gladly accepted the orange juice. It had just been taken out of the fridge, and her palms quickly chilled. After taking a sweet sip, she said:

“Are you playing hard to get? Kim Ji-min, you’re something else, you know that?”

Ji-min shrugged indifferently, her voice calmer than before.

“Han Seo-yeon, you don’t have any friends, so I’m doing you a favor by being your friend. Out of pity.”

“Are you kidding me? Did you not see the guy outside? He’s my friend.”

Ji-min’s gaze shifted toward the window. Her eyes landed on Jin-hyuk, who was playing soccer with the kids in the playground. As she took in his dazzling appearance, her lips curled into a faint smile.

“A male friend? Or a boyfriend?”

Seo-yeon shook her head firmly in denial. But Ji-min’s eyes remained glued to Jin-hyuk’s smooth movements. After tilting her head a few times thoughtfully, she asked:

“Why does he look so familiar? Haven’t I seen him somewhere before? Do I know him?”

For a moment, Seo-yeon’s expression hardened. Ji-min must have been thinking of Shin Jung-hyuk. Ji-min had been Seo-yeon’s friend since elementary school, through middle and high school—meaning she knew Jung-hyuk well, including the infamous “bet” incident.

Unconsciously, Seo-yeon bit down on her lip.

Though their features weren’t alike, there was no denying the eerily similar vibe Jin-hyuk gave off compared to Jung-hyuk. And then there were their names—so rhythmically alike, like brothers.

Sure enough, Seo-yeon had drunkenly asked Jin-hyuk a rude and foolish question not long ago: whether they were related. His response had been immediate and unwavering: “I’m an only child.”

“Hey! Why are you spacing out? I’m asking if you know him!”

Ji-min raised her voice at her dazed friend, snapping Seo-yeon out of her thoughts. She relaxed her stiffened expression and replied:

“How would you know him, Ji-min? You’ve never met him before.”

“Well… A face like that isn’t one you forget after seeing it once. You always have handsome guys around you, huh? Your taste hasn’t changed.”

Finishing her sentence, Ji-min brought the orange juice bottle to her lips, hiding the sneer spreading across her mouth. But Seo-yeon wasn’t oblivious to the hidden meaning behind her barbed words. Ji-min was mocking her past relationship with Shin Jung-hyuk.

Seo-yeon pondered whether Ji-min was truly her friend—or just an acquaintance. Or perhaps someone worse than a stranger. With a bitter taste in her mouth, she clicked her tongue.

“Han Seo-yeon, if you’re just going to space out here, help me with some work.”

Ji-min slammed a heavy envelope onto the table in front of Seo-yeon.

“What’s this?”

Seo-yeon rummaged through the contents of the envelope. Pens, paper, and documents listing dozens of donors spilled out.

“It’s our orphanage administrative work. Every quarter, we have to write handwritten letters to our major donors. It’s kind of like groveling.”

“If they donate generously, shouldn’t we just be grateful? Why are you being so cynical?”

“Ugh! Have you ever written dozens of handwritten letters? My fingers feel like they’re about to fall off, and my eyes hurt!”

“Then why bother with handwritten letters? Why not just print them out?”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been saying! Who writes handwritten letters in the 21st century? It’s such a hassle! But it’s the director’s orders—you know, the one who always favors you. Since you’re here, lend a hand.”

Damn it, there was that favoritism again. Seo-yeon’s patience, already stretched thin, finally snapped. She lifted her head and spoke in the coldest tone and with the iciest gaze she’d used all day:

“Kim Ji-min, listen. I still consider you a friend. So stop being so prickly. Neither of us has the best temper, and I don’t want to end up rolling around on the floor pulling each other’s hair when we’re almost thirty. I’ve been holding back since I got here.”

Ji-min snorted, unafraid. Of course, she knew Seo-yeon would never dare grab her hair.

“Wow, so scary. Go ahead, try it. Let’s see who wins. Anyway, I’ve already done the letters from ‘ga’ to ‘mi,’ so you can start from ‘bi.’ Phew, I need a break.”

Ji-min leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes. Seo-yeon clicked open the pen cap and muttered as she scanned the donor list alphabetically:

“Mr. Ma Seok-young, Ms. Min Hye-won...”

“Ah, I’ve already done those. Start from Mr. Park Yeo-wan below. Ugh, let me rest for a bit.”

Ji-min reclined lazily, closing her eyes, while Seo-yeon smirked faintly as she opened the pen.

“Mr. Park Yeo-wan? What a great name. Sounds regal, like a queen.”

“Oh, right! That’s actually their nickname—the Queen. Han Seo-yeon, make sure your handwriting is extra neat for the Queen. They donate billions every year—a truly incredible person.”

“Such a noble individual. Noblesse oblige, indeed.”

With renewed determination, Seo-yeon adjusted her posture and smiled slyly. There was something strangely meaningful about her grin, prompting Ji-min to ask:

“Why are you smiling like that? Are you mocking me?”

“Oh... Someone just came to mind. There’s a person who refers to their own mother as ‘the Queen.’“

That person was none other than Shin Jin-hyuk. Seo-yeon briefly glanced out the window at Jin-hyuk before picking up her pen again.

Jin-hyuk showed no signs of tiring, still playing tirelessly with the children without taking a break. His bright, ever-smiling expression shone like a ray of light piercing through the heaviness in Seo-yeon’s heart, radiating an undeniable presence.