Season Two: Part II

You sit across from Giselle at the kitchen table. The apartment is quiet except for the sound of your coffeemaker.

You’d let her in with as little awkwardness as you could manage, showing her to the guest room without letting your eyes linger, too much, on the way her black dress hugged her curves. Now, as she sits across from you, her suitcase tucked away, you find yourself fiddling with your phone, very aware of your own bed hair and boxers under your hastily thrown on shirt. Every time your gaze drifts her way, flashes of your dream flicker behind your eyes, her body under your hands, her voice begging, taunting, gasping your name.

You want to ask why she’s here, but you bite your tongue, half afraid she’ll actually say the words you dread.

“Karina sent me to make you fail again.”

The tension stretches between you, until Giselle finally breaks the silence. She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her gaze dropping to the table as she speaks.

“Hey… I’m sorry for just showing up like this. I didn’t really have anywhere else to go. Karina offered, and, well…”

She lets out a sigh, her voice softer than you’re used to.

“I got into a fight with Ningning and Winter last night. It was… stupid, really, but I couldn’t stand being in the dorm anymore.”

You nod, trying not to look too curious, but she catches your eye and gives you a small smile.

“You probably don’t want to hear all the drama, but…”

She shakes her head.

“We went out drinking after yesterday’s schedule. I was…Well, I was flirting with this guy at the bar, and Winter and Ningning teased me about it. At first it was all fun, but…I don’t know, maybe it was because of the drinks and suddenly Winter started calling me easy, while Ningning…Ningning implied I’m a slut, saying I couldn’t get anyone’s attention if I don’t show off my body. I snapped at them. It got… ugly.”

She picks at the edge of her napkin, her fingers twisting the paper.

“I know it sounds dumb. I just…. So I left. I didn’t want to go home, didn’t want to deal with all the questions from my manager. Karina said I could stay as long as I needed. I hope that’s okay with you.”

Her honesty is so different from the bratty confidence in your dream that you almost don’t recognize her for a moment. Still, you can’t help but notice how her eyes linger on you, watching for your reaction, her lips parted as if she’s waiting for you to judge her.

Before you can answer, your phone buzzes with a delivery notification. Breakfast is at the door. You rise, clearing your throat, grateful for the excuse to break the tension as you head to the door.

Breakfast is quiet but not uncomfortable. At least, not after the first few bites. Giselle picks at her salad and cold noodles, clearly more focused on gathering herself than eating. You sip your coffee and try not to stare, keeping your mind on anything except the way the sunlight glows on her bare thighs under the table, or how her lips glisten with each bite.

A few times, her eyes meet yours and she gives a tentative smile. After a while, conversation trickles in. Despite you being Karina’s boyfriend and Giselle being one of her best friends, the two of you don’t really get to talk like this. It’s nothing too deep anyway. She asks about your comeback from a few weeks ago. You ask if she’s got a lot of schedules at the moment.

But eventually, after a long silence, Giselle fidgets with her chopsticks, chewing her lower lip before finally speaking up.

“Hey, um… I know it’s asking a lot, but… would you mind driving me to the company later? I just…”

She glances away, visibly embarrassed.

“I don’t want to ask my manager or have to explain to anyone why I left the dorm last night.”

You shake your head, already rising from your seat.

“Yeah, of course. That’s no problem. Just let me change into something that isn’t underwear.”

Giselle brightens, relief showing on her face.

“Thanks. I’ll just freshen up real quick.”

She slips off her chair and heads for the bathroom. The sway of her hips is impossible to miss as she closes the door behind her.

You linger in the hallway for a moment, pulse quickening. The image of her from your dream is still burned into your mind. Her voice, her ass, the shameless way she begged for more, how she was literally being a slut. And now she’s here, in your home, a single thin wall away, probably stripping out of that tight black dress and standing naked in front of the mirror. Or at least that’s what you imagine her doing.

You duck into your room to change, but you can’t resist. You palm yourself through your boxers, already hard, and let your mind wander, just for a minute.

You picture her pushing the bathroom door open, catching you with your cock in your fist. You imagine the shock melting into curiosity, then that sly, bratty little smirk, just like in your dream.

“Wow… Is it always that big?”

She’d ask, voice soft and teasing.

“Can I…? Just as a thank you? Please?”

Your hand moves faster, your breath coming harder. You can practically feel her lips closing around you, her hair brushing your stomach, her tongue swirling around your tip. Your hips buck, muscles tightening…dangerously close.

But just as you stumble on the edge, you hear the bathroom door click open, footsteps padding into the hallway. Panic jolts through you. You let go, heart hammering, cock aching, breathless and flushed. You force yourself to breathe, willing your body to calm down, refusing to lose the challenge on the very first morning. You dress in silence, trying to regain control over your thoughts and your body.

Giselle appears in the doorway, hair a little damp, a faint scent of your body wash clinging to her skin. She gives you a bright, innocent smile, completely unaware of the fantasy she just fueled.

“Ready whenever you are.”

You nod, trying to act cool, but your heart is still racing and your cock is still throbbing.

Giselle sits quietly in the passenger seat of your Mustang. The soft thunk of the door closing behind her echoes her own sense of displacement. The weight of last night’s fight is still pressing down on her shoulders. The argument with Winter and Ningning replays in her head in sharp, disjointed fragments. Voices raised, sarcasm escalating, someone slamming a glass a little too hard on the kitchen counter. The sudden silence afterward had felt worse than the shouting.

She glances down at her hands, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap as you settle into the driver’s seat beside her. The hum of the engine fills the air and Giselle tries to focus on the unfamiliar feel of your car. The clean scent of leather, the glint of the lights off the white racing stripes, the subtle vibration in the floorboards as the Mustang comes to life. She usually doesn’t sit in cars like these. Especially not in Korea.

You don’t say anything at first, simply adjust your seat and mirror, sunglasses hiding your eyes. The apartment building’s parking garage is cool and shadowed. She tells herself to relax, that she’s safe here, that this is just a ride and nothing more.

But the fight keeps circling in her head. She wonders what Winter and Ningning are doing now, if they regret anything, if they even care. She feels exposed, wearing a dress she borrowed from Karina and last night’s makeup carefully scrubbed away in your bathroom just minutes before. She’s grateful you haven’t asked questions, that you let her move around your space quietly, without judgment.

The car is silent, but not tense. You seem at ease in your own skin, even as you stifle a yawn, running a hand through your hair as you start the engine.  It’s only when you reach behind her, your arm sliding over the back of her seat to grab the headrest, that she snaps out of her thoughts. You lean back, looking over your shoulder to reverse, and for the first time this morning, she really sees you. Your jaw is sharp in the shifting light, your features relaxed but intent. The smell of your aftershave is faint but comforting.

Giselle can feel the subtle warmth of your arm so close to her hair, and she catches herself holding her breath, suddenly hyper aware of the proximity between you. You maneuver the car out of the tight space with practiced ease, and for a moment she’s grateful for your competence, grateful to let someone else take the lead.

Once you pull onto the street, your hand drops naturally to the gearshift. The Mustang’s engine purrs as you accelerate, the sound filling the otherwise quiet interior. Only now does Giselle allow herself to notice the details: the way your forearm flexes as you shift, how relaxed you seem behind the wheel, the casual power in your movements, how your jaw occasionally tightens when someone cuts in right in front of you.

She adjusts her dress, letting her left leg drift ever so slightly toward the center console, not really thinking about it, just trying to get comfortable. But the next time you reach for the gearshift, your knuckles brush her bare thigh. The touch is light, almost barely noticeable, but enough to send a faint current through her body. You don’t seem to notice, your attention fixed on the road. But as you continue to drive, shifting smoothly from gear to gear, the contact happens again. Giselle glances at you, wondering if you feel it too, or if you just don’t care about this accidental intimacy. She tries to ignore the growing awareness in her belly, the way her skin tingles beneath each accidental brush of your hand.

For a while, her mind drifts, half focused on the passing cityscape outside, half on the steady rhythm of your driving. She reminds herself that you’re Karina’s boyfriend, that she’s here because of a fight, that she shouldn’t read into things.

When you finally stop at a red light, you glance over at her. For a split second, your sunglasses catch the light and she can see her own reflection there. Flushed cheeks, a nervous bite on her lip. You offer her a gentle, wordless nod, and she feels something in her chest unclench, just a little.

By the time you pull up to the SM building, Giselle is almost sorry for the drive to end. She unbuckles her seatbelt, hands stilling in her lap, and turns to you.

“Thanks for the ride.”