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Su Ah's POV:
People tend to spiral when they are faced with their demons and can't manage to overcome them. Especially if that particular issue or concern has to do with something highly disturbing and distasteful. Such things are scary. It becomes harder to think objectively and realistically when your focus is occupied.
And your mind is elsewhere.
Your heart is distracted.
Your thoughts, wandering off into nowhere land, as one might say.
Like any other person who experienced a disturbing situation and was confronted by their weaknesses and flaws, one tends to put a mask on the demon, to pretend it's not there, to not give in to acknowledging its very existence in order to ease one's own internal and external distress.
Su Ah had enough time to reflect on her feelings, and make peace with her sins, whatever those were. Peace, in this case, didn't refer to some form of forgiveness or inner resolution. It's not like she had a divine force guiding her towards self-acceptance.
Peace was merely about acknowledging her mistakes and accepting that no matter how long she strived and fought to right the wrong, the truth wouldn't change. It was kind of sad, and pitiful, and tragic, because not being able to do anything was also something Su Ah hated.
Hated it.
She did her best to take it all out, vent her frustration in a more suitable and positive way. That positive way would've been through writing. Unfortunately, this form of artistic expression, so liberating for the young woman, didn't make her feel any better in the long run, since it felt more like an additional burden, a pressure, instead of something that should relax her.
The more her writing delved into intimate territory, the more the pelikan pen she found herself holding for hours became a torture tool.
Frustration mounted on Su Ah's face as she wheeled around to stare at her bed. Her thighs shifted a little. She wasn't tired. She wasn't sleepy.
So, the sudden longing she felt for the bed, was it... lust?
Her head tilted slowly. The thought, the feeling, the now all too familiar sensation coursing through her veins like hot, white poison. She took in a careful breath. Released. Took another, deeper.
It felt good. She understood what her body wanted, perhaps on instinct or out of habit. As Su Ah continued breathing, as her thoughts rolled to and fro inside of her, that simmering pleasure she felt turned from a suggestion into something hot and sticky. She found herself biting her lower lip, hard.
Her mind played scenes.
Images she had no right to conjure.
Flashes. A smile. A pair of violet eyes. A bare back, crisscrossed with red. A deep, breathy chuckle against her ear. She squeezed her thighs together.
A spark jolted through her. An insidious, itchy little flame in her belly.
She knew this feeling. Knew the shape of it. She hated it.
But she also wanted it.
Needed it.
It was exhausting. This constant battle. A relentless tug-of-war inside her.
The good Su Ah, soft as an angel, murmured: This is your brother.
The wicked Su Ah, the evil and unhinged one said: He's also… beautiful. Strong. A man.
He's not a little boy anymore. He's a man. And a man is what you want. He's a man with a gorgeous body you want to touch.
The good Su Ah tried to answer back, but her tongue was heavy and useless. The wicked Su Ah cackled and pointed a crooked finger.
Of course, even good people sometimes commit evil acts. Even the saints can have monstrous thoughts when temptation presents itself. And temptation was staring at Su Ah every single day. She glanced at her word document, as blank as it had been when she'd started an hour ago.
She had to get out of her room. She needed a distraction. Something that would push these thoughts away before she gave in.
The problem was that these thoughts always came back. It didn't matter how many 'breaks' she took, or what she did, or where she went, her thoughts always, always, returned to the one place she forbade them to.
Su Ah stood up, abruptly, her chair rattling and spinning behind her.
She clenched her teeth and grabbed her phone. Held it with both hands, knuckles tightening and trembling around it. Compared to her Unnie, she wasn't good at making pointless small talk. She wasn't a social butterfly. She wasn't forward, or flirty, or bold, like Mia. She had to take a different approach.
But that comfort zone was too small for her now. She was starving. She had to get out of that bubble.
Don't do it, Su Ah. You know what happens if you text him. It never goes anywhere but deeper.
And isn't that what you want...?
It won't end well. Think about the consequences.
Think about him. You know there's something fishy between him and Mia. She's getting away with it, why can't you?
Su Ah, don't...
But she was already opening her contacts.
Her thumb hovered over his name.
Jae-il.
Seriously, what was she supposed to do? Realistically. Objectively. Rot in her room, fantasizing until that very same fantasy consumed her?
She was slowly succumbing, and the thin line that separated sanity and morality had been cracking for a while now. She was at the point where she would do anything to hold onto something that made her feel… something. Something other than this hollowness.
She would do anything to feel it, even if for a few fleeting moments.
After all, ever since she discovered the cursed pleasures of her body, especially when it came to her own brother, she had been walking a fine, thin line of self-destruction.
It wasn't solely lust. If that was the case, she could've found someone else. Any man with a decent body could probably satisfy her. But they wouldn't be him. And that was the entire crux of her issue. Su Ah wanted Jae-il. Not just to fuck, but to… something more. She wanted the fruit without ever having to climb the tree.
But that wasn't an option.
She had to climb the tree. She had to risk the fall. Even if it broke her.
Her thumb tapped.
You: Hey? How are you? Have you eaten?
A pause.
The little ellipsis appeared, disappeared, appeared again. The wait was a special kind of torture. The little grey bubbles of doom. A prelude to rejection. She paced back and forth, trying desperately not to look at the chat every other second. She flopped on the bed, holding the phone overhead with both hands.
Then a response.
Jae-il: I'm fine. No, not yet. Just came back from a meeting. Why?
Her heart did a stupid little flip.
You: Nothing. Just checking.
Su Ah waited again. Three dots. Then.
Jae-il: I'm about to head to the dorms. How are you? Mom okay? Mia Noona?
She bit her lip.
You: We're fine.
She wanted to say more. But what? I miss you? I had a dream about you last night and woke up sticky? I think I'm going crazy and you're the only cure?
She couldn't. So she settled on something safer.
You: So, semis, huh?
Again, the wait was almost unbearable.
She covered her eyes. Breathed deep and counted the ceiling tiles.
They came in the same pattern every time, no matter how long or how deeply you stared. That was just the reality of it, in this new and depressing phase she found herself going through, and her bedroom felt more and more like a prison lately.
Jae-il: Yeah. The big battle comes.
Then, a sticker.
She wasn't surprised. He always sent her random stickers. He thought they were funny.
You: You can do it.
You: You always do it.
He responded immediately.
Jae-il: Thank you, Noona. Your confidence is always motivational.
Jae-il: heart.
You: 😄
Her mouth went dry. A smiling emoji? Was that the best she could do?
Su Ah stared at the chat. It had gone silent. It was stupid to keep up with the small talk, anyway. She gritted her teeth, eyes narrowing. 'Nothing's gonna change like this. Perhaps...'
She took a deep breath, hesitating for a moment.
He was still online.
He was still awake.
Probably not for long.
So...
You: Hey...
It took a while for him to respond this time; he must've been replying to someone else. Maybe he was receiving a hundred of texts from a hundred different girls. Among them, Mia could've been there, at the top of the list, because Jae-il had never looked at another girl quite like he did their sister.
Still, the wait for him to read it, for his fingers to start moving and the little dots to appear, was a hundred times harder, though. And it steeled her resolve to step out of that damn bubble, because a life of emotional and sexual isolation was far too suffocating to be spent with her conscience intact. She doubted there'd ever be someone else, a person capable of giving her the satisfaction her brother was offering without even realizing.
He was it, wasn't he? The one.
Either that or total mental annihilation.
Su Ah didn't plan on being a mentally unstable psychopath—not completely anyway—but damn, that boy was slowly, surely, tearing apart her resolve and mental state.
Jae-il: Yes...?
With sweaty palms, the girl added a few sentences, her fingertips skittering on the keyboard. Her breath hitched. The words felt dirty.
You: I wanna see you tonight, Jae-il.
You: I don't care how or when or where. I'm coming.
You: I can't go on like this anymore. I need to see you.
You: It's been too long.
The shackles around Su Ah were slowly coming undone. The restraints keeping her grounded were lifting, making her float higher, her mind's wings spreading and flying higher. A feeling that was scary and intoxicating at the same time. She wondered what exactly was the part of the 'crazy' equation her mind contained. Was this normal, or had she finally lost it?
A little bit of both, actually.
And the possibility of this escalating to an insurmountable degree of bad didn't terrify Su Ah nearly as much as it probably should've. Instead, her heart kicked like a galloping horse, her hands went damp, her muscles trembling, and she grinned a little.
This forbidden path was hers to explore.
Even if it had a premature end.
She had to try.
She had to—or she'd go fucking mad.