The Playgirl (ft. LOONA’s Yves) [Part 3]

Another month passes.

Yves has been improving a lot, and you’re teaching her more than just math. Even on weekends, she requests tutoring, and both of you work on projects or study together, be it at Seoul U’s cafe or in empty classrooms.

Two months since you began tutoring her, about one month since you took up her deal. Something in Yves shifts—when she began studying, it was out of just competitive spirit. Now, she seems to truly like what she’s doing, and you can’t help but to let yourself enjoy the sight of this Yves. She turns up to school a little more regularly, though she still comes to terrorize people. She doesn’t go out to parties as much, choosing instead to hang with you. The attention you get from her feels like too much and not enough at the same time.

Other than being your student, Yves becomes somewhat of a regular fixture in your life. She still frustrates you—her semi-regular absences from school are met with your nagging and her regular dismissal, her constant nonchalance about how she carries herself still annoys you, and she still constantly flirts with you. That last point is also part of the reason why she is kind of a welcome presence in your life. If she isn’t present in school, she will be seen leaning against a wall after class, leather jacket over her shoulders, your favourite mocha frappe in her hands. If she doesn’t turn up for a tutoring session, she drops a call and apologizes, then makes it up to you with your favourite dessert next session. On the regular, she always has a compliment or a greasy remark tailored for you on hand, both making you groan and internally panic simultaneously.

It doesn’t help that she keeps getting prettier, at least to you. Every day, her empty desk taunts you. Sometimes, you wish she was next to you, lollipop in her mouth, gazing at you and flirting with you. Your heart skips a beat when she pushes herself off the wall to wrap an arm around your shoulder, waving the frappe in front of your face with a “Hey, babygirl” . You look forward to the text exchanges with her every night, where both of you can text for hours. You adore her lip bites when she is focused on something, her soft “Assa!” when she gets something right.

Perhaps your crush on her is starting to get out of hand, but you don’t want it to end.

—–

Your phone rings. Caller ID: yves 💘

“Yo, babygirl.”

“Don't—ah, nevermind.”

“The cafe’s closed today. Wanna come over to my place?”

“What?”

“My place. Come over.”

“Oh, um…”

“Text me your address. I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay.”

When Yves hangs up, you panic. Her place? You’ll get to see how she lives? Her private space? What?! You fire off a text to Yves, then you carry on panicking.

[yves💘 has sent a message:]

Gotchu

I’ll see you in 15, babygirl

Can’t wait;)

—–

Yves’s place is cozy. For someone so punk rock, her place looks so homely, so full of life. However, Yves lives alone. Weird, considering there’s a lot of stuff that is placed neatly on tables and shelves, too much for one person to use.

“Welcome to my humble abode, babygirl.” Yves curtsies, flashing you her dazzling smile. You place your bag down on the couch in her living room, rummaging to find what you need.

“Hey, would you mind if I went for a shower first? I’ve had a busy morning.”

“Oh, no, sure. Go ahead.”

“Right, thanks babe.”

Yves leaves. In the meantime, you wander around her living room, glancing at the items on her shelves. A vintage tea set, a back scratcher, and an old camera? Those look pretty cool. Beneath that, another shelf holds a few old DVD cases, each of some old music from the 70s and 80s. Also, are those cassette tapes? You pick each one up, getting a feel of them in your hands. Damn, these are cool.

You wander along the hallways. When you pass by the bathroom, you can hear the water running. Suddenly, you’re hit with intrusive thoughts, all of them about Yves.

Your crush. Just a handful of metres away from you. Undressing. Naked. Under the shower. Water running down her bare skin, maybe over those chiseled abs of hers? Her naked chest, her legs?

You return to her couch, collapsing on it, trying to fight the dirtier thoughts in your head.

You sink your face in your hands, groaning at the thought of a naked Yves. This isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last, but it sucks to be thinking of something inappropriate when the time isn’t right. The gulps of water you inhale don’t quench the correct thirst, but at least it does something.

“Hey baby.”

Yves’s voice makes you jump. The cutest girl ever greets your eyes, with a look that you never thought she’d rock. That same girl has her head bowed, a sheepish smile on her face, her hand moving to tuck some hair behind her ear.

She looks gorgeous.

Her wet hair, formerly slicked back, now falls over her forehead, forming cute bangs. Her leather jackets and crop tops are traded for a cozy oversized long-sleeved sweater that engulfs her body, giving her sweater paws. Yves pairs that with sweatpants, and a cute pair of bunny slippers.

She looks so cute and all you want to do is to mash her lips with yours.

You gasp, freezing. Yves walks over to you, planting her books on the table, refusing to meet your eyes. She grins when she finally looks at you though.

“How do I look?”

“Ah, um, er…” You stammer, unable to process the sight of the punk rock, cool, bad girl Yves now looking like a girly, adorable cutie. This wasn’t Yves, this was just Ha Sooyoung.

“You… you look, er, good,” you breathe.

Yves halts, red starting to colour her ears. She looks away, seemingly wiping at her face with one of her sleeves.

“Thank you.” Her voice is tiny, tinier than usual. You want to hug her but you control yourself, settling to admire how she looks instead. She looks so pretty, so fucking pretty, and you wonder why she doesn’t look like this on the regular. Maybe she’s letting you see her more private, intimate side. Maybe she somehow found out you quite like this style. Whatever the reason is, it’s working. How do you even continue to function today, now that you’ve seen Yves look like this?

You love this Yves— no, this is Ha Sooyoung, you hastily remind yourself. She looks so domestic, so cute, so… girlfriend? You want to glomp her, and that urge is increasingly hard to control.

“Let’s begin.”

“O-Okay.”

Both of you slip into your roles as teacher and student. For Yves, it’s seamless, but for you, you struggle to do so. The student herself is a distraction.

The session begins.

—–

“Stay for dinner, babe?”