That thought lingered with Cheon as they finished their coffees. Aurora shared a few more details about the boy she liked—careful never to na him, though Cheon suspected it was Nolan from the way Aurora described his dedication to hero work.
In return, Cheon asked questions about what to expect tonight, what to wear, whether she should bring protection.
"Definitely bring protection," Aurora advised. "Even if he says he has it covered, bring your own. My mom drilled that into my head repeatedly."
"Did your mom give you a lot of advice about this stuff?" Cheon asked.
Aurora nodded. "She’s pretty open about it. Says it’s better I hear accurate information from her than rumors from classmates." She hesitated. "What about your parents?"
"They’re in Seoul," Cheon said. "We don’t talk about things like this."
"Oh." Aurora looked concerned. "Well, if you need anything—advice, soone to text afterward, whatever—I’m here."
"Thank you." The offer touched Cheon more than she expected. She’d never really had friends at Coastline, especially not female friends. She’d always been too focused on maintaining her perfect student image to allow for genuine connections.
As they gathered their things to leave, Aurora put a hand on Cheon’s arm. "One more thing. If at any point tonight you feel uncomfortable or change your mind, you can say no. Even if you’re already there. Even if you’re already undressed. You can always say no."
Cheon nodded. "I know."
"And if this guy doesn’t respect that, you call imdiately. I’ll co get you, no questions asked."
The fierce protectiveness in Aurora’s voice surprised Cheon. They barely knew each other outside of class, yet Aurora was offering unconditional support.
"I will," Cheon promised, though she knew it wouldn’t be necessary. Ro had made it clear he wouldn’t take what wasn’t willingly given.
They parted ways outside the coffee shop, exchanging phone numbers before heading in opposite directions. Cheon felt lighter than she had all day. Talking to Aurora hadn’t answered all her questions, but it had given her perspective. She wasn’t alone in her inexperience, and whatever happened tonight, she had soone she could talk to afterward.
The thought of tonight sent another wave of heat through her body. Eight o’clock. Ro’s apartnt. The opportunity to finish what they’d started in that classroom.
Cheon checked her watch. Four-thirty. Less than four hours to prepare.
She picked up her pace, already ntally cataloging what she needed to do. Shower. Find sothing to wear. Figure out how to look like soone who hadn’t spent her entire life focused solely on academic achievent and class rankings.
For tonight, she wouldn’t be Cheon Hae-Won, Class Representative. She would be Hae-Won, just a girl going to et a boy who made her feel things she’d never felt before.
===
Cheon stood in the lobby of Ro’s building, her hands clasped tightly to keep them from visibly shaking. The Uber ride had given her too much ti to think, each minute bringing fresh waves of doubt that crashed against her determination.
She’d spent an hour and a half at the mall after leaving Aurora, wandering through stores she never visited, feeling like an imposter in the lingerie section.
Yet here she stood, dressed in a simple black dress she’d bought specifically for tonight. The material clung to her figure without being too obvious, falling just above her knees with a modest slit up one side.
She’d chosen low heels that added just enough height without making her feel unsteady. Her hair remained down, brushed until it shone, framing her face in a way that softened her usually severe appearance.
Beneath the dress was her most daring purchase—a matching set of deep blue lace underwear that had cost more than she’d ever spent on such items. The salesperson had assured her it was a classic choice, elegant rather than tacky. Cheon had nodded as if she purchased such things regularly, while internally calculating how many als she’d need to skip to balance her monthly budget.
The lobby’s bright lighting made her feel exposed, as if everyone passing through could see her intentions written across her face.
A security guard glanced at her occasionally from behind his desk, probably wondering why she continued standing there instead of proceeding to an elevator.
Her phone showed 8:05 PM. She was deliberately five minutes late, yet Ro hadn’t appeared to escort her up.
Had he forgotten? Changed his mind? Was this all an elaborate joke at her expense?
Cheon adjusted her small handbag, which contained only the essentials—her phone, wallet, keys, and the protection Aurora had insisted she bring. The weight of those small foil packages felt impossibly heavy against her hip.
She checked her reflection in the polished marble wall beside her. The girl looking back seed both familiar and strange—still Cheon Hae-Won, but sohow transford by the anticipation coursing through her body.
Despite her nervousness, she couldn’t deny that she looked good. Different. Like soone who might do sothing unexpected.
The elevator doors opened, and Cheon’s heart jumped to her throat.
Ro stepped out, wearing a simple gray t-shirt that hugged his shoulders and dark pants that looked casually expensive. His white hair was slightly damp, as if he’d just showered, and his mismatched eyes found her imdiately across the lobby.
For a mont, he simply stared, and Cheon fought the urge to fidget under his gaze. Then he crossed the marble floor toward her, moving with that effortless confidence that made her simultaneously envious and attracted.
"Wow, Cheon, you look beautiful," he said when he reached her, his voice lower than usual.
"Thank you," she managed, her voice steadier than she felt. "I wasn’t sure what to wear."
"You chose perfectly." His eyes moved over her again, lingering in a way that made her temperature rise.
"Co on. The elevator requires a key card."
As they walked together toward the elevator, Cheon felt the reality of what she was about to do settle over her. This wasn’t a classroom fantasy or a coffee shop conversation.
This was real, and in monts, she would be alone with Ro in his apartnt.
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