89. Morning After

Somin, Mia and Teho

Somin only ever had sex with Cholsu and even though she loved him madly and naively, she was very uptight. Full of fear that he would scold her as he often did, in the manner parents do to an incompetent child.

His scent had never had this addictive quality like Teho's, making her mad with desire. She liked it somewhat, but more often Cholsu smelled like cigarettes, which she hated. The fair artist himself, his clothes, everything he touched was filled with this awful, heavily bitter acrid scent. In her young mind, she mistook it for cool, convincing herself that she did like it.

I have to like it, it's him and I can't change that.

Somin shivered and pushed this memory back to where it came from.

...

Mia and Somin sat at the table when Teho came, later but still.

He did find himself. Somin thought showering made miracles.

The stunning photographer looked like his normal gorgeous self. Black hair wet, dark shirt with uneven cutouts around the shoulder underlined his ever-so-present sex appeal. The dashing photographer liked to dress simply, to not overshine his natural beauty with fancy clothes. He knew damn well mother gave him this handsomeness, why should he deny it. Every time elevating clothing to an art form, like a painting which is balanced, both intriguing to explore deeper meanings, discovering hidden layers and at the same time simply captivating on the first view.

When he decided to wear something extra, everyone always lost their shit.

Why is he regularly looking like this, meanwhile I'm feeling like a literal corpse?

"Ya, Somin-ah, have you finally found your human form?" he couldn't resist joking.

Mia sighed, and Junu laughed softly at his far-away corner. Quiet yet listening intently.

"Have you found your brain yet?" Somin answered, smothering a giggle.

"Wasn't that hard to find however where all the fucking sugar go?" He grinned, changing the topic seeing Somin going crazy with sweetening her coffee.

"What's the relationship status between you and those white cubes?" the dashing boy went that extra mile to sniff her drink while leaning above her shoulder, remembering how she sweetened the mulled wine.

He's too fucking close again. Somin panicked.

"Wanna die from a sugar crash?" he mocked her.

"Only coffee doesn't do the trick, in fact, sugar transforms me from zombie to human every morning," she answered.

"Oh, so you're already dead," he jokingly said.

"I'm immortal," she answered when he returned back to his chair. "Well at least till the coffee runs out, then I'm truly done."
Mia handed him a pastry basket and the conversation at the table meandered like a river from easy fun and light gossip to deeper art debates sweetened by Mia's positive view of the world.

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😳 Author's corner 😊

️ Do you lie often or easily? ️

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