Unlike the taxi driver, Yeonseon’s legs were in good condition. By good condition, I meant that the area below his knees was intact. Nothing made one despair more than knowing the ending of another of a similar appearance. The arms that shared their warmth with me not too long ago were also not fine. He had both legs, but Yeonseon was crawling on the asphalt like an insect.
A car that was speeding down the road blared its horn at me. I moved to the side, and it sped away, hitting Yeonseon. It was going so fast that I could feel the wind from it. I should have just been hit then and there. I wasn’t sure if Yeonseon would be where I went in the afterlife or if he would recognize me, but it didn’t seem bad to roam this road together.
Then, I could feel Yeonseon standing in front of me. He lifted a mangled arm. His hand that barely kept its form plopped on my shoulder. The weight of his arm was significant. Then, his other hand rested on my other shoulder.
“Yeonseon?”
Then, he spilled on me. Chunks of flesh spattered on the road. Perhaps I could describe the feeling as going into a tub filled with hot and fresh ground meat. I held my breath at the bizarre sensation. Then, Yeonseon disappeared. When I turned my head around, he reappeared on the other side of the road and was slowly walking toward me.
“Yeonseon Ham…” I called out.
Each step looked laborious. I watched for a moment, then I returned to where I was sitting—the bench at the bus stop. I sat there until he disappeared with the morning sun.
How much more cruel would the world be to me?
When I felt that resentment, I remembered the mansion that I was trapped in when I was younger. If I hadn’t met the Child at the mansion, I wouldn’t have experienced any of this. My shallow sympathy, mercy, the desire to do a good deed, goodwill, nosiness. The Child taught me how dangerous those were.
People who had near-death experiences sometimes said that they probably used all their life’s worth of luck in overcoming death.
I experienced something more extreme than that. I regretted meeting the Child. Extending my hand toward them and bestowing kindness—I regretted those too. Rather than being able to go to the mansion by standing on death’s doorstep, I thought that it would have been better if I had just died.
I wanted to meet the Child again. I wanted to ask why they did this to me.
“…” I stared up at the dark ceiling. My eyes didn’t need the light anymore. I could easily make out the objects around me without the light. And Woorim—he looked down at me with an ambiguous smile.
Against my back were the old rags and curtain that I was lying on when I had passed out. It seemed to be Woorim’s way of caring for me, who was exhausted. He handled me delicately. He gave me cute and small kisses to reduce any disgust I felt. Then, he continued with one long kiss, eventually moving down to lick my neck and chin.
When his hot and thick tongue passed my neck, I felt a shiver that was different from when he stroked me with his hands. Woorim buried his fingers into the back of my head and tenderly touched around my earlobes. I thought I was completely drained from running nonstop for hours, but heat rose from where our skin met.
Stroking the back of my head, his hand snaked down to my shoulder, my chest, my waist, and then rubbed against my hips and pants. Next, he groped around for my member by putting his hand into my pants. He kissed me and touched me as tenderly as possible. The fever in my upper body started to spread lower.
Massaging me gently, he removed my pants and started to stroke my flesh.
“Ngh!” Languid from accumulated fatigue, my body heated up quickly. I had no energy to say anything, be it to stop him, to tell him he was too fast, or to say I felt embarrassed. Honest reactions came as he touched me. He rubbed my shaft, drew circles, and pressed down the head; I bit my lips because of the moan that threatened to escape. Woorim’s lips overlapped my bitten ones.
He licked my lips, asking for access. When I opened them, he didn’t put his tongue in but squeezed my lower half. “Ah!” I let out. But that wasn’t the end. The hand that was stroking mine grew faster. I wanted to close my mouth, but Woorim rubbed my bitten lip and the inside of my mouth with his tongue, so I couldn’t close my mouth tightly.
“Why are you closing your mouth?” Woorim asked.
“Hngh.”
Helplessly, noises continued to leak out of my mouth. Wrapped around my member, Woorim’s hand was hot. I heard squelches with every movement of his hand. I was continuously getting stimulated, but it wasn’t enough. The pleasure that didn’t hit its threshold was brimming in my abdomen, and each time, my body writhed. However, I couldn’t move freely because Woorim pressed his body on top of mine.