101 — The Unveiling III (Conclusion)

Dae Hee's POV:

There was that mysterious, genuine look in his purple-pink eyes. That one she'd been obsessing and daydreaming about ever since she'd met him. Those eyes she would gladly watch all day long, if allowed to do so.

This man could ask anything and everything of her, at that moment. He could ask her to sell her soul to the devil and she'd run on foot, at the speed of a bullet, to fulfill the task at any given cost.

With his gaze, he had already placed a spell of hypnotization—and she'd been an idiot, to begin with, in thinking that she couldn't fall under such a powerful suggestion. It was so ridiculous. All of the rage and indignation she tried to keep alive by being near him... vanished the moment she was actually by his side.

When the hell did she become like this? A hapless damsel in distress falling into the arms of her knight in shining armor? She was meant to play with fire, not to be burnt to a crisp. She was meant to turn the tables around. Meant to be in control of the situation. Yet, here she was, not even capable of denying Jae-il's genuine concerns as of the present.

What was truly, undeniably hilarious and tragic was that, even if Jae-il's concern was fake, even if he was pretending for his own amusement, to study her behaviour, it was still enough to make her lose all of her self-respect and pride.

She was pathetic. She had lost every shred of reason.

"What's with the look, Dae Hee..." There was laughter hidden beneath the deep husky tenor of his voice and the gentle quirk of his mouth, and for some reason, the warm brown and red, woody scent of his cologne only accentuated such. "The one you're giving me right now is kind of... alarming."

And despite saying so, there was no change in his attitude, tone, or expression. The young man across her remained the epitome of serenity and charm. If anything, he leaned forward, to study his case better, to understand her fully—hah, she didn't know anymore.

And that damnable scent of his got even stronger, all-encompassing, penetrating her system, fogging her senses. Making it difficult to discern his words from her very own, overworking, hormonal thoughts.

Fuck. Fuck it. Fuck all of it.

Fuck that young man in particular. Fuck his audacity for having the looks and the figure and the genes, for God's sake!

Fuck it! Fuck her shitty life! Her sad little childhood! Fuck this cruel reality she lived in and fuck this overwhelming desire, this need that's taking hold of her. A burning, irrational want to kiss, and make him hers!

"U-uhm... okay, well..."

FUCK.

Here she was, looking like a silly school girl, once more! Acting all shy and meek!

"Well?"

"The truth is..."

Was she about to say it?

The fucking, pure and utter truth?

No way—she wouldn't simply spill everything because her stomach did somersaults.

She wouldn't simply give up just like that because his damn voice was giving her all the chills in her lower belly.

The moment the truth passed through her lips was the moment she'd find herself the loser of the game.

She wouldn't admit to anything, though perhaps him knowing what his father did to her parents wasn't such a bad thing. But he might not believe her, because to him, she must've been a little crazy, a little too much in her own head, to be making such a huge story up out of nothing.

Besides, her idea of corrupting the boy in front of her was too appealing to give up so quickly, not without a fight. Because if her fate was to sink down the ocean depths, she might as well sink with a ship full of treasures.

That is to say, Jae-il, here and now, all the while staining him to the ground by turning him into a horny, lust-driven, pleasure-seeking individual who could never live a full day without her, would be that ultimate victory of hers. A redemption of sorts. The perfect fuck-you-so-hard-you-never-walk-again that she deserved.

"Uh-huh?"

Jae-il urged her on, gently.

She opened her mouth.

"Excuse me?"

Dae Hee blinked, and along with Jae-il, turned their heads towards a pretty girl who suddenly sidled up to their table. She looked a little pale, a little uncertain, but certainly hopeful and excited. "Ahem... sorry to bother you." She continued, almost stumbling over her words—clearly, Jae-il's presence had short-circuited a part of her brain and jammed whatever else would remain working. "Are you Cha Jae-il?"

"Indeed I am." Jae-il replied, now focusing on the girl in front of him.

Dae Hee frowned, leaning back, arms crossed.

"Ah, nice to meet you! I'm Min-ji, and... and... well, I saw you on TV. You're really good! I'm not a sports geek or anything, I've always found those games boring, but when you came in, it was just something completely out of this world!"

"Really? I appreciate it, Min-ji Noona."

Noona.

Dae Hee shifted irritably.

Min-ji blushed.

"Ah, is she bothering you? Sorry, sorry!" A male appeared to her side, along with another pretty girl, and another guy who positively sparkled with all of his glitter, sparkly, panda-esque clothing. Min-ji's friends.

Jae-il didn't seem to mind. He gave them all a small, polite smile.

"It's alright."

The panda, Joon, whistled. "Wow. You're even better looking in person. Min-ji wasn't exaggerating."

"Joon!" Min-ji smacked him lightly on the arm, then looked at Jae-il with wide, apologetic eyes.

"I can't believe you actually came here... such timing. Oh, sorry, I'm this twerp's brother, Min-chul."

"Who's a twerp?!"

Dae Hee was growing increasingly irritated by the second. This was supposed to be their time. Their moment. And now Jae-il, the target of her affections, the object of her revenge, was being swarmed, his attention diverted.

She could feel the old, familiar anger bubbling up inside her, hot and acidic. The monster she kept locked away rattled its cage.

But she held it back. She couldn't cause a scene.

Not yet.

Instead, she did the one thing that she had practiced and perfected over the years of being ignored, of being overlooked. She became invisible.

She shrank in her seat, her shoulders slumping just enough. Her gaze fell to her hands, folded neatly in her lap. She became part of the furniture, a silent, unassuming presence in the corner of their little gathering.

"What do you mean 'such timing'?" Jae-il asked, curiously. And he grew even more so when a dark look crossed over their features, especially Min-ji's face, who looked terrified and apologetic.

Something must've happened—though Jae-il didn't know how that could've been, in any way, related to him.

Min-chul wanted to say something.

And he was very well about to.

But Jae-il chanced a look at Dae Hee's direction, and noticed that she was looking particularly grim at the moment. Head bowed. Tiny fists clenched on her lap.

He cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the group. He smiled politely and apologetically. "Actually, I'm in the middle of something important. So..."

"Oh. Right." Min-chul hesitated, looking like he wanted to finish what he was about to say. Min-ji nudged his arm and shook her head. "Sorry, uh, we'll, uh, leave you guys be then! It was nice to meet you, good luck in the quarters!"

He had all but dragged his sister and their friends away, but not before Min-ji cast a final glance over her shoulder at Jae-il.

"I wonder what that all was about..." Jae-il murmured, and then he turned his attention back to Dae Hee.

The very same Dae Hee who had turned into a statue while they were distracted. She didn't move a muscle, as if she was trying to hold her breath and wait for the world to pass her by. She didn't seem as angry as she had looked a second ago, but she was still visibly upset.

She looked up at Jae-il, who was patiently looking back at her.

"You didn't have to..." She mumbled.

"Didn't have to what? They were interrupting us."

She didn't say anything. Instead, she just stared at the tabletop. Lips pursed. A faint blush spread across her cheeks. Ah, seriously!

"I..." She began, her voice barely a whisper. "I was going to tell you something."

The air around them seemed to still. The clatter of cups and the murmur of conversations faded into a distant hum.

He waved his hand, chuckling. "Let's drop that, Dae Hee."

"Huh?"

"Forget about it, I said." I insisted, his smile never dropping.

Her eyes widened.

"But... why? I thought you—"

"Yes." He shrugged, idly looking at the menu between them. "But, honestly, I invited you here to apologize and spend some time with you, not to conduct an interrogation."

"I... I don't understand."

"It's simple. I just want to get to know you better, Dae Hee. Without any preconceived notions. Without any labels. Just... you. The very same Dae Hee that crashed head first into a wall. The very same Dae Hee that broke a window, that rescued a stray kitten, that outright skipped classes to have a cake with me."

Jae-il's voice was soft.

"I'm not in a rush. Are you?"

And Dae Hee, for all her intelligence and planning, was caught off guard. She had been prepared for a confrontation, for a confession, for a battle of wits. She wasn't prepared for this.

Her mouth fell open a bit.

For a moment, Dae Hee looked utterly gobsmacked. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. She looked like a computer that had just been asked to process an impossible equation.