Seo-ah exhaled the breath she had been holding. At the sudden curse, she flinched. When she reflexively looked up to check on him, the man who had seemed calm moments earlier moved without warning. Like a sea hit by a storm. He closed the distance at once.
As the large hands seized her cheeks. Her eyes widened. She drew in a sharp breath. An unfamiliar scent washed over her as the distance between them that momentarily widened before—disappeared. In an instant, their lips, which had touched as if exploring each other, collided together roughly, as if trying to swallow her.
There was no hesitation, no caution. It felt less like contact and more like impact, as if he meant to overwhelm her rather than touch her.
Unlike his infinitely cold gaze, his lips were burning hot, as if scalded. Her tangled breath felt insufficient, and she instinctively struggled.
The overwhelming wave eased for a moment. Seo-ah shut her eyes and gasped for air. Like someone pulled from deep water, she inhaled and exhaled desperately, clutching at whatever her hands could find.
Then the wave surged again.
“Open your mouth.”
The words were unfamiliar.
Open…?
She didn’t have time to think. Even if she had understood, she wouldn’t have been able to resist.
Her breath became short as their noses touched, and her mouth naturally opened. And through the gap, something she could never have imagined flooded in. Something hot and smooth dug between her teeth and brazenly explored her mouth.
“Hk—”
Her back pressed against the wall, and the man, like a mountain range, was unyielding to any struggle. Her dry, chapped lips were wet with warm moisture, and her mouth was kissed and re-kissed. When she realized what he was doing—the man’s tongue explored her mouth and entwined with hers, her thoughts stopped.
She had studied many things. She had not been short of learning.
No books she had not read. From her teacher she learned how to walk quietly. Observation. Movement of people. Survival.
But nothing had prepared her for this.
Why kiss and suck lips, why lick and entwine her mouth. She didn’t understand why her breath increasingly short without end. Why the wet her ears made her want to shrink away—unbearable.
Was this what Oscar had meant to do earlier, in the crowd?
From beginning to end, she was overwhelmed, all she could do only endure the forced upon her. At some point—the pressure that almost felt like it would last forever—stopped as abruptly as it had begun.
His hands that held her cheeks dropped away. The contact broke.
Seo-ah slid against the wall, gasping for breath. Oscar stood still, staring blankly upward at the ceiling. His chest rose and fell sharply beneath the thin robe.
“This is fucked up….”
He muttered it under his breath. Then he looked down at her and smiled faintly.
“Right?”
“……”
The flickering light made everything seem precarious. Everything felt unstable.
The woman against the wall. The man blocking the path.
Both caught in the same suspended moment.
Then the man turned away first. His movements were calm again, almost eerily so, as if the earlier violence raged like a flooding sea had been a mere illusion—like it never happened.
He stepped toward the inner room. Cold air seemed to flow from that direction.
Beyond it, there was no light. No warmth.
Seo-ah watched his back. For some reason his steps, walking towards darkness without light or warmth, felt strangely familiar.
Perhaps because the darkness visible beyond his back was familiar. Not frightening.
Perhaps because there was no other way. Or, foolishly—
Perhaps because she felt like she was being left alone again.
Before she realized it, she had taken a step into the darkness.
Then another.
She followed him.
Her steps stopped only when he stopped.
Oscar’s gaze was as cold as death, as though he were weighing something. Then he turned his head and looked back.
“It wasn’t fucked up, was it?”
He looked at her, who seemed speechless, then smiled faintly and stepped backward into the darkness. He then turned to face her after completely disappearing into the darkness.
Standing with his back to the darkness, he seemed both to warn her away and to invite her closer.
After a moment, she moved. The naive stranger finally walked towards the darkness along with the rigors. She walked into it of her own volition, where there was no warmth, no light.
Of her own will, she crossed the threshold. There was no warmth inside. No light.
As she entered, Oscar felt the thread he had barely pieced together snap again.
There were many ways to ruin oneself.
But what did that have to do with her?
The only passage through which light and warmth had seeped in closed.
Oscar let out a long breath and turned around calmly. A woman stood there, out of place in the room that felt like a temple of death.
A woman who had entered his space of her own accord.
The heat that had been simmering inside him burst again.
Perhaps the moment he had leaned toward her like an idiot was finally being resolved. If so, what was the point of continuing to suppress the desire that kept rising, foul and persistent?
She was asking for it.
The thought surfaced, cold and contemptuous. The master of the temple whispered with a seductive smile.
Fine. Let’s play.
Then let it happen. He was incredibly curious to see how she, who seemed so dazed after just a few kisses, will react. How the woman will change.
“Take it off.”
—
It was cold.
The moment she stepped into Oscar’s bedroom, Seo-ah felt a chill deeper than any winter she had lived through combined. But the bathroom beyond was even colder.
A pale coldness seemed to flow from above the black stone bathtub. Her breath, exhaled like in midwinter, shattered into mist.
She reached instinctively for her collar, then stopped. Oscar’s robe was in her hands. She stared blankly at the thin, smooth robe as if she were broken.
Was this a dream?
Ever since meeting Oscar in the crowd, everything had felt a lack of reality. Her body felt light, as though she were walking without touching the ground. Wondering if it was truly a dream, Seo-ah looked around and her eyes fell upon a large, ornate mirror.
The ornate mirror with its impressive gold frame reflected a woman perfectly, without any distortion.
Shoes stained with dirt. A wrinkled skirt. Her crumpled top—
Her gaze moved upward. Her hair was tangled beyond recognition. The red ribbon barely clung in place.
Seo-ah stumbled towards the mirror. Then, tearing her gaze away from the end of the ribbon, she met her own face for the first time in a long while. Pale. Almost corpse-like. Only her lips looked unnaturally red, as the ribbon.
She brought forth a moment that made her intensely red lips feel just as red.
“Take it off.”
The command echoed again.
She didn’t immediately understand what he meant—the words that pierced her ears.
“Uh… uh…”
So, should I go to the room first? Should she change clothes first? She moved toward the door she had entered earlier—with no fear.
However, Oscar stood there, unmoving like a gatekeeper, blocking the way.
“My… my clothes…”
The words stumbled out like a fool’s.
He laughed softly from the shadows.
“Why? To change into something new?”
With a mocking laugh full of ridicule, Oscar moved slowly. He took off the robe he was wearing, tossed it carelessly onto the sofa, and then sat by the window frame, lighting a cigarette. The sound of the cigarette tip igniting and a pungent smell filled the air.
“Wash up. Come out wearing that.”
Seo-ah looked down at the robe in her hands.
The word prostitute passed through her mind.
Slowly, she raised her head and met her reflection again. She stared into her eyes. Her eyes looked dark. Empty. She set the robe down. Then she began unbuttoning her top while her hands kept trembling.
She clenched her fist. Opened it. Tried again. Still trembling.
Why… is this happening
Her fingers wouldn’t cooperate. She rubbed her fingertips against the palm of the other hand, then shook her wrist. Still, they slipped again and again.
The reason she was undressing, what would happen next, what she might have to endure — all of it blurred, like something far away.
“…Ah.”
A warm voice reached her.
“…On-a.”
She looked up. Seo-ah, who had been lost in a distant haze, forgetting even her purpose. Before her stood a woman beautifully dressed.
A pale yellow jeogori1. A skirt the color of shallow seawater. Almost like the view of the shallow sea on a clear day. An amber norigae2 — she cherished. Crimson danghye3 shoes.
“Lift your head.”
At the gentle voice, the beautifully adorned woman cautiously raised her chin and smiled. Behind her, sunlight glittered across the blue sea. The shadow of a cry seagull passed overhead. The sound of waves breaking. Wind against her face.
“Yes. That’s right. Hold your head high. It’ s how you should do.”
—