Chapter 2
My brain froze.
What did I just see?
Why was the illustration I had commissioned displayed on her laptop screen?
The subject of the illustration was Nam Ga-yeon, the seventh heroine in my novel.
Recently, I had been thinking that I needed something a bit more provocative and had exchanged several emails with the illustrator to refine it.
[Wouldn’t it look better if the hips were lowered a bit more?]
[No, no. Women feel more embarrassed the higher the posture is.]
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How do they even know this stuff?
Did they pick it up from somewhere, or is the illustrator some kind of expert with a lot of experience?
I had specifically requested that the illustration convey the most palpable sense of shame, but the initial sketch they sent was beyond crude.
[That might be true, but will the composition look good…]
[You just have to trust me completely.]
That tone, as if success was guaranteed if I simply trusted them.
[Well… if you’re that confident…]
Convinced by the illustrator’s confidence, I decided not to push back further.
After all, they had delivered solid results so far.
Surely, they’d do a good job.
[I’ll draw it in a way that will immediately provoke a reaction below the waist!]
When I responded with a trusting tone, the illustrator had replied half-jokingly.
I didn’t have a personal relationship with them, but I figured this is what collaboration between professionals felt like.
But then…
Han Na-eun slammed her laptop shut with a loud bang!
“…Take it.”
“Huh?”
“The lacquer. You said you needed it. Just take it already.”
Han Na-eun, with her head lowered, urged me in a tone that sounded like she wanted me to leave as quickly as possible.
Still in a daze, I nodded and slowly returned to my seat.
“Hey, you got the lacquer?” Hwi-min asked, holding out a pink lacquer can.
“I checked my drawer and found some. My bad. Here, use this too if you need it. Don’t worry about finishing it.”
“Oh… thanks.”
Even though I should have been rushing to work, I just sat there dumbly, staring at my cutting board, blinking like an idiot.
I couldn’t have imagined it.
If I’d misunderstood, there’d have been no need for Han Na-eun to slam her laptop shut like that.
HNE… HNE, the illustrator…
Han Na-eun?
…Seriously?
Could that Han Na-eun really be the illustrator I’d had an intense discussion with about “what provokes arousal”?
I hesitantly glanced back toward her desk.
Han Na-eun didn’t appear to have resumed her work, but her expression was remarkably calm.
Could it be that the illustrator is actually someone else, and she was just looking at the illustration?
But still, there was no reason for the illustrator to have sent an unfinished illustration to Han Na-eun…
My thoughts were interrupted when she suddenly slammed her forehead onto the desk.
Oof… that’s gotta hurt…
It seemed it did, as she grabbed her forehead with both hands, lifting her head slightly. Tears were welling up in her eyes.
Then, without another word, she buried her face into the desk again.
…Yeah. No matter the truth, it’s definitely embarrassing.
A grown woman getting caught by her senior while looking at erotic illustrations at school.
I figured she’d be justified in banging her head on the desk at least two more times.
Although I was curious about what was going on with Han Na-eun, I couldn’t just stand there observing her forever.
Grabbing the small model figures from my pocket and the lacquer, I headed out of the studio.
Outside the architecture building, I spread out some newspaper on the ground, taped the model figures upright, and set them in place.
“Ugh, come on, stand up, will you? Why do you all keep falling over?”
I’m the one who feels like collapsing here.
After struggling to secure them, I finally managed to hold them steady and carefully sprayed the lacquer.
It would take about 30 minutes to dry…
I closed the cap on the lacquer and headed back upstairs.
I returned Hwi-min’s lacquer… Now, I just needed to return Han Na-eun’s.
I wonder if she’s doing okay now…
When I glanced toward the window again, I saw Han Na-eun looking utterly disheveled in just twenty minutes.
Her eyes were half-focused, and her neatly styled hair, which once looked like it had been straightened with care, now appeared tangled, as if she’d been pulling at it.
…Still, I needed to return the lacquer, right?
Swallowing nervously, I walked briskly toward her desk.
“Uh… Na-eun?”
She didn’t even look up, seemingly lost in her thoughts, despite me standing right in front of her desk.
When I spoke, she finally lifted her head and looked up at me.
“A…!”
Her pupils trembled slightly.
“Here. I used it. Thanks.”
Considering how busy everyone was the day before a deadline, I figured it was best to keep the awkward moment as brief as possible. I turned to head back to my seat.
But I stopped in my tracks when I felt a warm touch on my wrist.
“Uh… excuse me.”
Han Na-eun had stood up and grabbed my wrist.
“You saw it… didn’t you.”
Her voice was soft, almost trembling, as she asked me.
Hmm… What’s the best response here?
Pretending I hadn’t seen anything was probably the way to go.
“Saw what?”
“My monitor screen…”
“No? I didn’t see anything. Why? What was on it?”
I probably should’ve just stopped at ‘No.’
“No, you did see it. Oppa. My illustration.”
My illustration.
So, the truth was… Han Na-eun really was the illustrator?
“You absolutely can’t tell anyone about this. Got it?”
She clutched my hands with both of hers, her expression one of sheer desperation, like a frightened puppy.
…This shouldn’t be happening, but I couldn’t help feeling oddly familiar with the situation.
Despite having zero real-life experience, as someone who had written over a hundred chapters of long-form erotic novels…
A beautiful woman caught in a vulnerable moment.
And an ordinary man who never lets an opportunity slip away.
I could feel another side of me stirring inside.
■ Lee Min-ho, your novel is no longer fiction! Just go for it!
■ No, you crazy idiot! You have to know the difference between reality and fiction!
■ When else are you ever going to get to talk to someone like Han Na-eun?!
■ Why not? Once you’ve made enough money, you can just leave this life behind!
“Oppa…?”
Han Na-eun tilted her head slightly, her expression uneasy as she tried to gauge my reaction.
Even in her simple studio attire, a hoodie and training pants her beauty seemed to shine effortlessly.
Her delicate features, sharp jawline…
…I realized I was standing before a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
“H.N.E.”
As I slowly enunciated each letter, her large eyes widened further and further.
“A…uh…oh…”
With just three letters, she was rendered speechless, her movements jerky like a malfunctioning doll.
I took a step forward. Then another. Slowly closing the distance between us.
“And you expect me to keep this a secret… for nothing?”
A sly smile crept across my lips.
Meanwhile, despair began to paint her face, her expression growing increasingly distraught.
“W-what do you want?”
She trembled like a rabbit cornered by a predator, her entire body quivering.
“…Your phone number.”
“Huh?”
“Your phone number. Give it to me.”
I handed her my phone.
[010—**88—0923]
I called the number immediately.
From behind her, a cheerful pop song melody played as her phone rang.
“Save it. That’s my number.”
Hanging up the call, I turned to her with a bright smile.
Alright. This has to be the day I, Lee Min-ho, showed the greatest courage of my 25 years of life.
I couldn’t help but applaud myself internally for my bold move.
A guy like me, inexperienced and single all my life, daring to act this audaciously toward someone as stunning as Han Na-eun?
Saving her number felt like a monumental victory.
“Yes…”
I turned to head back to my seat, intending to focus on my deadline. As for what I’d do with her number? I’d figure that out later. Maybe I’d ask her to meet outside sometime. Would she agree? Probably, right?
Lost in those thoughts, I had just started walking away when I felt her grab my sleeve.
“…What?”
“Is that it?”
She looked at me, her expression confused.
“What?”
“Is that all? That’s the price for keeping my secret?”
…Well, yes, it was.
But something about her demeanor seemed different now. She no longer looked scared; the mood had shifted slightly.
“Ugh…”
She frowned as if something didn’t sit well with her.
“Fine. But don’t contact me unnecessarily or share my number with anyone else.”
…It felt like I should be the one in control here, but somehow, her tone had a condescending edge that began to irritate me.
Does she not realize the situation she’s in?
If this were my novel… by now, she’d already be…
“Seriously, this is so lame.”
Her muttered words as she turned her back hit me like a dart to the brain.
Ha. So, she doesn’t get her position here, huh?
I stopped in my tracks, turned, and grabbed her as she was about to sit back down.
“Now what?”
Her gaze was cold, almost as if she were looking at an insect.
Right. This is exactly how my novel heroines react at first.
“Do you really want your life to be over?”
I glared down at her with a threatening expression.
This should make her nervous… right?
But what came out of her mouth was far from what I expected.
“And how exactly are you going to ‘end’ me?”
Wait, how? That’s… by revealing she’s an illustrator who draws erotic art, of course…
As I hesitated, fumbling for an answer, she looked at me with a mixture of disdain and disappointment.
“Sigh… Acting tough without an actual plan is honestly so pathetic.”
…Wait. Did she just insult me, a star erotic novel writer, for not having a proper build-up?
I could feel a fire igniting within me, the flames of my other self roaring to life.