Chapter 2 🍓
From Milim's internal disposition, she was somewhat prepared to lose her chastity the moment she realized that she had consumed spiked wine. In all seriousness, she didn't place strong importance on chastity, but that didn't mean she was a casual person. If she hadn't been tricked by some pervert, she probably wouldn't have ended up in bed alone with a stranger.
Without waiting for Dylan to respond, Milim resigned herself to fate and propped herself up, searching for her phone.
"What are you doing?" Dylan asked, misinterpreting her sudden movements. He assumed she was actually going to call someone else. His brows furrowed. Could it really be that unbearable for her? 'Is it possible this young girl, who looks so innocent, is already a veteran in this kind of situation?' he wondered.
Inexplicably, Dylan felt a burst of anger. He always despised people with unrestrained private lives, especially those who had been with many partners at a young age. Milim, oblivious to his internal judgment, weakly fell back onto the bed, limbs splayed, and said in a low voice, "Call my phone. Inform my classmate."
Fortunately, she was clear enough to be understood. "Tell them not to wait for me," she added. Dylan's expression relaxed slightly. As he picked up her phone, Milim added another request, "And find me a clean man. I'm about to die."
His face darkened.
Dylan stood up and walked to the side of the room to make a call. Once connected, he quickly explained the situation and hung up. As for her second request, he didn't have the resources or the mood to find someone. But if she truly couldn't endure it any longer... he sighed, loosened his tie in frustration, and walked back with a cold expression.
When his imposing figure loomed over her, Milim breathed a sigh of relief, thinking her suffering would end soon. But she was wrong. Very wrong.
No, it wasn't just dying once—it felt like dying repeatedly.
"Inhuman animal. Hypocrite," Milim thought, eyes hollow with accusation, feeling the relentless jolts of his actions. She felt like she was constantly dying and reviving. Dylan originally had no intention of going that far. But his emotions spiraled, and he lost control.
"I foolishly allowed myself to indulge several times in a row and did something that violated my principles," he later thought.
When it was over, Milim's exhausted body collapsed. She didn't even have the strength to move her fingers.
Dylan noticed the aftermath in the dim hotel light—marks and bruises that startled him. For a moment, he was frozen, pondering what he had done. He wasn't usually this rough. In fact, he had never acted like this before. This was completely out of character.
He glanced at the clock. It was just before 1:00 a.m. He got dressed quickly and left the hotel room. After searching around, he found a 24-hour drugstore and went straight to the counter.
"Do you have any ointment for swelling and pain relief?" he asked. "And... can it be used on broken skin?"
The clerk handed him the ointment with a nod, her eyes trailing to the fresh bite mark on his neck. Her cheeks flushed.
"Would you like condoms as well?" she asked politely.
Dylan's face turned pale. He had forgotten to use one. "No need," he replied curtly, paid, and stormed out.
It was past 2:00 a.m. when he returned to the hotel. He ordered warm water, soaked a towel, and gently wiped Milim clean. Then, he carefully applied the ointment. It was 3:00 a.m. by the time he lay down beside her. He couldn't sleep.
Just moments ago, he had seen more bruises—serious ones. He began to doubt himself. Was he some kind of pervert? A monster? The shame painted his face red and blue.
Eventually, sleep claimed him.
Dylan kept a disciplined routine and rarely stayed up past 1:00 a.m., but this night had thrown his system out of balance.
Milim, on the other hand, had just finished her college entrance exam and usually woke up before 7:00 a.m. She was no exception that morning. She awoke... and immediately regretted it.
"F**k."
Her entire body ached like she'd been hit by a truck. Every muscle screamed. Even her mouth hurt.
It took her a few seconds to recall the shameful memories of the night before. She groaned and covered her eyes with her hands.
"Ah... I want to die."
'When I was under the influence, it felt okay to roll around with someone. But now that I'm sober, I hate it.'
At 19 years old, Milim slowly sat up, her body trembling. She glanced at the man beside her. He was so handsome—high nose bridge, defined features. But no matter how beautiful he looked, he was still a beast in her eyes.
She spotted the bruises he'd left—discolorations of all shapes and sizes. Her skin looked like an abstract painting. She winced trying to move and quickly looked for her clothes, finding them neatly folded on the bathroom sink.
After dressing, she fled the hotel like it was on fire.
It was just past 7:00 a.m., so the streets were mostly empty. The cold morning air bit through her clothes. She hugged herself and checked her wallet. Only two hundred-yuan bills remained. That was meant to be split among friends last night.
She texted: "How much was everyone's portion last night? I'll pay you back when I pass by."
A few moments later, her phone buzzed.
"We didn't split the bill. Some local rich guy paid for everything."
Milim sighed. Nothing good came from this night.
She stopped at a street vendor and ordered a small breakfast, paying with one of the hundred-yuan bills. "Thanks," she whispered, carefully pocketing her change.
She took a few coins, paid her bus fare, and boarded a ride toward her family home in the old city district.
Milim came from a well-off but ordinary family. She had a high-achieving older sister and a gifted younger brother who had skipped grades to attend a prestigious middle school. Compared to them, Milim often felt like the forgotten middle child.
Her parents placed their hopes in the eldest and youngest. They closely monitored their success, ensuring nothing distracted them. Milim, on the other hand, was given more freedom. If she did poorly on an exam, she wasn't scolded. If she went out to play, it was fine—as long as she came home on time.
But last night had been different. This was her first time not returning home.
She reached home at 8:00 a.m., heart pounding. But her parents weren't even up yet. Her younger brother, Lin, was studying in the living room.
He looked up and greeted her faintly. "Morning."
"Studying already?" Milim asked.
"Almost done," he replied.
Milim relaxed a little. Since it was only Lin, she changed her shoes and quietly said, "I'll go sleep in the room so I don't disturb you."
"Mm," Lin nodded, already back to focusing on his work.
They shared a room with bunk beds—Milim on top, Lin on the bottom. But today, she couldn't climb up. She collapsed onto her brother's bed and curled up like a shrimp.
When Lin entered a while later, he found her sound asleep. The brilliant junior high student quietly walked over and gently covered her with a blanket.