Lee Seob’s Love

Chapter 82. What Are We? (1)

Translator: Aura

Lee-Seob hurriedly turned around. As he put on the clothes he had carelessly thrown on the floor, he heard a delicate, clear voice behind him.

“Thanks, but you must be tired too.”

“What?”

‘That was like a warm-up. Come on, I could last until dawn. Do I look too weak to walk her back to her apartment?’

Lee-Seob turned arrogantly and said,

“Tired? I’m full of energy.”

“I see… all the more reason you should rest and ‘calm down’.”

Dumbfounded, Minkyung added,

“You can’t walk around with it like that…?”

Her last words were almost inaudible, but Lee-Seob heard them anyway. He was about to shout, ‘Hey!’

However, he bit his lower lip. He felt his face heat up. Lee-Seob seriously assessed his condition and understood how uncomfortable it would be for her. Unable to make eye contact, he half-turned away.

“Still, I appreciate your thoughtfulness. Bye.”

Minkyung bowed her head in thanks. He heard the door close behind him. It was then that he flopped down on the bed and glared at his large member with resentment. A moment later, he covered himself with the blanket and closed his eyes.

‘Ugh, damn it.’

***

Apart from the occasional clink of cutlery against plates, there was almost no noise. It was the solemn family dinner held on Sundays in Songbaekjae. However, the chairman was not present because he was indisposed.

The quick-witted Joon-Seob whispered in his ear,

“If anyone asks you about the fashion department, just sketch out a plan for now. I’ll support you however I can.”

“You’re impressive.”

Lee-Seob replied indifferently and picked up the chopsticks without enthusiasm.

His mind was a mess, filled with thoughts about last night. He couldn’t sleep a wink all night, dazed and foggy-headed. His emotions went from anger to acceptance, from irritation to resignation. As soon as the sun came up, he sent the blanket, which he really wanted to throw out, to be washed.

Afterwards, he worked out at the gym and relaxed at the spa as per reservations made by Kang Minkyung. He then went through the clothing area of different department stores to do market research as planned. Every dress, blouse or skirt he saw transported him to fantasies where Minkyung wore it.

It wasn’t enough for his corrupted mind to just imagine her with her clothes on, he could only erase the thought after imagining her taking them all off. Her large, round breasts, slim waist with no excess fat, a cute belly button, well-defined thigh muscles, slender calves, and thin, toned ankles. And, well… there.

Such fantasies made him horny in broad daylight in department stores.

‘I’m a pervert. This is serious.’

Lee-Seob sank into self-loathing.

“Lee-Seob.”

He didn’t hear the voice that called him softly.

“Lee-Seob?”

Only after his mother called for the second time did he look up. He still held his chopsticks upright.

“Do you have no appetite? Are you sick?”

“Ah… no.”

“What are you thinking about…? You haven’t eaten anything. Is there any problem in the company?”

His mother’s eyes worriedly scanned Lee-Seob and then turned to Joon-Seob, who was sitting next to him.

‘Is he messing with my son?’

She didn’t look at him suspiciously, but not friendly either. After all, Joon-Seob was his son’s rival and a fierce competitor.

“Director Tae Lee-Seob, are you sick?”

Joon-Seob asked as he turned his head,

“You look like you have a fever.”

Joon-Seob seemed to want to put his hand on his forehead to check.

“Yes, it’s true. You look pale and your lips are dry. You must have a fever, Lee-Seob.”

His mother’s words were full of concern and love.

“I don’t have a fever.”

Lee-Seob replied with uncharacteristic curtness. It was true that he had a fever, but not the kind his mother thought.