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Chapter 5 : Fluent

I'm not sure when I started locking my door at night.

Maybe when I found out that my dorm is unisex, just crawling with older guys ready to prey on me; the girl that isn't yet fluent in their language; whom it wouldn't be difficult to talk into anything.

It could've been the day I moved in and my parents called for an update on how it went. I talked to them for about an hour, still not telling them about Sangwoo. I know fully well they would reject him. He's six years older than me, and I don't even have to ask them to know they'd disapprove.

Toward the end of the phone call, my mother not so sneakily made sure to stress how people would take advantage of me because of my cultural differences, and to always lock my bedroom door at night. Then I distinctly remember dad taking the phone from her and hanging up with 'Have fun, honey. Love you!'

Maybe it could've been the night I started sneaking him in. Every single night, just until my actual roommate arrives, he comes into my room. I can hear him kick his shoes off, trying to be quiet. He crawls into the bed with me, straddling me for a second to eventually maneuver until he's back hugging me. Arms wrapped securely around my waist as if I would up and vanish if he didn't hug me tight enough.

I've gotten used to him whispering in my ears in exchange for a response, like a hum or something. Anything audible to let him know that he wasn't the only one awake at that moment.

The way he attempts to keep his socks on while he sleeps but ultimately finds them uncomfortable; kicks them off and eventually tangles his ankles with mine. I even love when he's so freezing cold (more than he naturally is) that I can tell he probably spent a good few minutes outside, working up the courage to sneak inside of the building.

I've fallen for these moments in which I break the rules just a little, and just for this person.

"Sangwoo," I coo to him. A small snore answers my call so I decide against speaking anymore.

"Yes, Min Yerin?" I involuntarily chuckle at his words. It's three in the morning, and he's still awake enough to call me by his own nicknames.

When did he even come up with that? It's clever. It's even endearing to hear him address me as if I were his wife. Min Yerin. It sounds so... grown up. My heart swells at his closeness.

"I can't sleep." I moan out, whiny like a little kid even if kids annoy him just a bit.

"Well I can," His face nuzzles further into my neck and I feel him shift behind me, trying to find a better angle to sleep.

"Let's play a game." I suggest jokingly, but I can already feel the drags of sleep about to pull me back into slumber.

It's three A.M, and my first class of the year starts at seven sharp, so I'm nothing short of grateful for the return of my sleepy feeling.

"Mhm, not unless you let me pick the game." He whispers. There is something in his tone that I don't recognize.

"Okay, go for it." I shift my body and turn to meet his face, a pale smirk looking back at me.

Sangwoo leans over to whisper a silent 'don't move.' in my ear before he gets up, and leans over me.

"What are you doing?" I can barely make out his expression, it's dark just like my bedroom. There's a small sliver of the white streetlight coming in through the blinds that just so happens to catch on his face, giving him an eerie I'm about to kill you look.

"We're playing a game, remember?" This just rushes out before straddling my waist and bringing my hands to around his neck. At the same time, Sangwoo leans down towards me and just barely graces his lips against mine. He's so close I can taste the honey cookies that he had eaten on his breath, but he's not fully touching me.

I expect him to (when he's ready) crash his lips onto mine, but he doesn't. That's just like him, to make me so sure of his next action only to find that he doesn't go through with it. To make me be the one to make the first move, knowing that I'm not outgoing in nature. To smirk as I force my lips onto his, hungrily attack his soft pink lips with my own and doing my best to flip our position so that I'm in charge, so that I'm the dominant.

Once I'm successfully on top of him, I can't help but moan in satisfaction, still not breaking the kiss. He returns the sound but with a groan of frustration.

I feel his hands grope at my thighs but he's clearly trying his best to keep himself from grabbing my ass. My hands stay on either side of his head, trying to keep my balance but I feel the strain creeping through.

Our lips move and meld perfectly together and at a nonstop pace and it's art.

It's not just two people, who barely know each other making out. No, this is two -once strangers- losing themselves in each other. I can feel his care radiating from his mouth and allow it to shockwave through my inexperienced body.

I positively dread this moment of having to break away from him for the sake of breathing.

A slim thread of saliva connects us (I can feel it) at the lips, but I'm too out of breath to wipe it away.

I fall back onto the pillows ready to pass out. "That was my first kiss."

He sits up and leans over me again, tongue poking out just a bit, straddling me with a satisfied smirk. "Well, get ready for your second kiss." His husky voice assaults my ears.

This time I'm ready.

•| intermission |•

He's the cat, and she's the mouse. And he takes great pleasure in teasing his prey.

She makes it so easy.

•| intermission |•

"Oh... Yerin? Are you Korean?"

"Yes, but I'm not fluent so I'm practicing the language everyday." I quickly nod to reassure the man.

"I'm sure you're great. I just don't want you to act handicapped in here. I'm not slowing down my lecture for anyone. I'm a difficult professor, and if you think that you can't handle this, please drop my class." My papers are carelessly pushed back at me and I'm looking at his back as he is walking away from me.

Well, I'm not dropping this class. I haven't worked this hard just to give up and if I even considered it, my parents would fly out here and kill me.

I cautiously look for an assigned seat for the year. Not too close to the professor that already hates me but not too far that I can't hear him and fall behind.

Definitely not in the center though. A lecture hall consists of a large bleacher-like scatter of seats. They sit on at least seven or eight stairs and in front of them, the teacher's desk and white board.

There's a cluster of desks being occupied by that oh-so-cliché group of girls. They wear too much makeup, trying to look extra sexy for, I'm assuming, our professor. They're the type of girls that Sangwoo shows interest in; the type of girl that he wants.

When I sit down in my decided seat it matches all of my preferences and I even feel a bit comfortable.

The girl next to me starts mumbling at the sight of my laptop (the sticker with my name on it) and then gasps.

"Are you from America? I've never met a foreigner before. Not before the age of, like, ten."

This is the first time someone has started speaking to me in Korean so fast, before I even have a chance to say hey, I'm from Canada. She seems excited though.

"Ah," I start but she interrupts me before I even have a chance to fail horribly at my attempt to translate. Sangwoo has been piecing together his limited amount of English for my sake but I'll have to meet him in the middle eventually.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Her hands race to cover her mouth in mock shock. "You must only be fluent in English. I don't want to add any pressure."

The main bell signaling that if we're not seated we're late to class and interrupts this flushed girl next to me. She's clearly embarrassed, and it's kind of the cutest thing ever. The way her little pink lips curl into an 'o' shape. Her hands squeeze at her own pudgy cheeks, trying to get them to not heat up and become red in front of everyone, but she ultimately decides to let her dark hair cover her face completely.

Once the lecture begins, I sneak a glance at her name tag. She knows my name, so it's only fair that I know her's.

And it's almost as cute as her.

Kim Hyeseong.

I've packed my supplies ahead of time, sticking my pages of notes for the day in a binder. The broad title still pokes out 'Basic Safety & Sanitary Means Of Transporting Medical Equipment, Unit One.'

And as soon as the bell rings; go wherever you have to go now, and a loud "Class dismissed!" From our professor, I tap Hyeseong on the shoulder.

"Ohmygosh," I guess I surprised her. "Oh Yerin, he..llo."

Hyeseong patronizes me in English. Dragging out the word as if I'm incompetent and can not understand my native language.

"I speak English." I warn her with an edge in my tone, not failing to surprise her again. Jesus Christ she's so vanilla.

"Hyeseong, I'm from Canada." I shrug and eventually throw my bag over my shoulder. "You just never gave a moment to tell you." I laugh a bit, and hand her a pink pen that she almost forgot.

"I-I'm sorry I assumed. I speak English well too." She looks down at her feet and whispers awkwardly.

I begin walking down the stairs ahead of her and through the double doors, her small frame following closely behind. "That's okay, but these classes are not. I swear they're never ending." I dramatically groan to her, my unwitting confidence.

"Hey, but it'll be worth it someday, right?" She hopelessly asks me.

People in the halls pass by and look at us like we're out of my minds, speaking a completely different language from them.

"Our- what's the word? Our... learning? Our learning is important."

"Our education?" I offer, continuing towards the next hallway for another lecture.

"Yes, thank your." She says in Korean.

I give this girl I just met a look, causing her face to blush crimson again.

"I mean thank you."

I like her.

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