#yeo hee

Lee Rang had been called many names during his long life. A bandit, a killer, a rogue, an halfbreed, a lowlife. He was selfish, irreverent, and reckless. But never oblivious.

He knew that Yeohee, the mermaid standing in front of him, had feelings for him.

He wasn't an expert on women, even though he wasn't a virgin - like that coward of Shinjoo said when he thought he couldn't listen. But even he could not ignore the way the girl looked at him when she thought he wasn't paying attention. The spark in her eyes wherever they were together, the faint blush on her cheeks when they touched, however briefly. The beating of her heart beneath her pulse, so visible under the collar of her dress for the sharp eyes of a fox like him.

He wasn't oblivious, and he also wasn't cruel.

He knew he couldn't kiss her. It wasn't right; he could not lead her on like that. He couldn't indulge in the softness of her mouth - he hadn't stopped damning himself since he put his hand on her mouth to shut her up and discovered how velvety those lips felt. Even if she asked for it.

It wasn't like he didn't think - dream - about kissing her. He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when he started fantasising about it. Still, lately, more often than not, he found himself daydreaming about her.

About playing the piano together, and the sense of peace that came with it.

About having dinner together and getting to know her better. About her voice, her past, her life.

About the perpetual smile she wore, as if the world had never been cruel to her - and he knew it was. The world had never been gentle with people like them, halfbreeds, rejected by humans and demons alike. The way she wasn't so fazed when that drunk bastard tried to touch her tail was telling.

About indulging for one moment, just one brief moment, in her touch. About coming closer to her, to her warmth.

But he knew he shouldn't, especially if kissing her meant repaying a debt. His whole body rejected the idea of finding out the taste of her lips out of mere convenience.

Still, she had saved his life, once again, and he couldn't grasp the concept of someone, anyone, caring about him to the point of risking their own life to save him.

And he didn't want to. He didn't want to believe, again, that he deserved care. Love. Protection. He couldn't afford to be betrayed again. He knew that his heart could not take it.

Besides, he knew he couldn't give her what he wanted. She wanted a partner, a lover, a companion - that much was clear. Even though she didn't say it out loud, it was evident that a good girl like her wanted a good man beside her to spend the rest of her life with. And he was anything but that.

So why did the expression Yeohee wore when he rejected her stab his heart? Why couldn't he bear the thought of her crying because of him? He was doing the right thing for once. He was sparing both of them a pain they didn't deserve to carry.

Lee Rang had been called many names during his whole life, but one was always true. He was a weak fool.

So, before she could walk out of that room and, possibly, his life, he turned her face while his hand cupped her cheek and kissed her.

It was as if weeks of longing and frustration evaporated the instant their lips met. Rang was left empty, floating; the only thing tethering him to earth was her pliant mouth.

It was even better than all his dreams. His senses were hyper vigilant; it was as if he could perceive everything that was happening all at once, and his only focus was her, Yeohee, finally in his arms.

Her taste was intoxicating. Her breath prickled the skin of his cheek with each trembling inhale she took. Her hands, where they rested on his waist, were leaving goosebumps on the skin of his torso. Her hair between his fingers felt like silk.

She was as eager as he was, moving her head in sync with his as their lips continued their slow exploration of each other, cradling his lower lip between hers while he suckled softly on her upper lip. His finger, on its own volition, grazed the outer shell of her ear, and the light shudder that coursed through her made his gut clench.

Slowly, he released her mouth, his lower lip following a fraction of a second later, as if reluctant as he was to let her go.

They were now in front of each other, and the war that had been silenced by her closeness started anew in Rang's head. What had he done? Why had he let his weakness get the best of him? Why was he feeling so raw and vulnerable, and why, for once, did that sensation not disgust him?

Still, looking at Yeohee's wet smile, he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

In a daze, he told her that she had to leave, that Myoyeongak that night wasn't safe. He saw himself telling her that he would explain everything tomorrow, and only when she had left the room with the promise that he would come to the club to see her sing the following evening did he feel himself breathe again.

Tomorrow, he would have to face her, face the consequence of his action, the depth of his feelings. Tomorrow, if the gods were good to him for once, he would have his brother by his side and all the time in the world to understand what to do with Yeohee and the unwanted connection he felt growing between them.

He faced the wall again, skeik gripped tight in his hand. Lee Yeon needed him, and a part of him that he could no longer ignore wanted to see the light of the day not only for his brother, but also for Yeohee.