74: Chapter 74 Should we shower together?

In the dim light, Lee Qri's consciousness woke up before her body. The first thing to return was her sense of touch. Beneath her was a soft but unfamiliar feeling, not the dorm mattress she was used to sleeping on.

Next was her sense of smell. The air was filled with a faint scent of practice room disinfectant, mixed with a hint of a certain man's masculine scent, as well as the unique, ambiguous atmosphere that follows a night together.

Finally, her bodily sensations returned—heavy, sore, and weak, especially her waist and legs, which felt as if they had been disassembled and put back together. Certain areas sent waves of tingling and fullness, clearly reminding her that last night's intimacy was no dream.

She slowly opened her eyes. Her vision was a bit blurry, and it took her a few seconds to adjust before she could clearly see her surroundings.

She was lying on her side on a thick mat in the corner of the practice room, covered by a dark men's suit jacket belonging to Song Tianhao. The jacket was large, wrapping almost her entire body, and still retained his warmth and that faint, woody cologne.

A few rays of morning light filtered stingily through the gaps in the high curtains, casting long, narrow beams of light into the dim room, where tiny dust motes danced silently.

She moved slightly, wanting to change her posture, but a sudden wave of soreness from her waist and abdomen made her gasp softly.

Fragmented memories of last night flooded uncontrollably into her mind.

His forceful kisses, his breath falling by her ear, his low, hoarse commands as he carried her through the ebbs and flows, and finally, that lingering intimacy mixed with pain and a strange sense of release...

Lee Qri's face instantly burned, even the tips of her ears flushing hot.

She had actually... right here on the practice room mat, with him...

A delayed wave of shame surged over her, nearly drowning her. She wanted to get up immediately, leave this place, leave this room filled with last night's scent, and hide back in her small but safe dorm room.

Cautiously, she tried to push herself up, but her arms were too weak to exert any strength, and her waist and abdomen were incredibly sore. Having raised herself just a bit, she fell right back down, letting out a soft groan.

"Awake?"

A deep, magnetic male voice, carrying the typical hoarseness of someone who had just woken up, came from right behind her head, close at hand.

Lee Qri's body instantly froze, and she even held her breath.

Only then did she belatedly realize that a warm, solid body was pressed tightly against her back, his arm draped across her waist, holding her in an attitude of absolute possession. Last night, she seemed to have... fallen asleep curled up in his arms, using his arm as a pillow.

This realization sent the temperature on her face soaring to another level.

"...Pre-President." Her voice was dry, carrying the hoarseness of just waking up and an undisguisable panic. "I... I have to get up. I need to... to go back to the dorm to change, and then... go to the company. There's... there's morning class..."

She spoke incoherently, trying to get up again. Her movements were even gentler this time, attempting to slip out of his arms without disturbing him.

However, the arm around her waist tightened, easily pulling her back into that warm, solid embrace. Her back pressed tightly against his chest, and she could even feel his steady heartbeat through the thin fabric of his clothes.

"Where are you going?" Song Tianhao's voice still carried a trace of sleepiness, but there was an unquestionable tone to his words.

Lee Qri froze in his arms, not daring to move. Her cheek rested against the fabric of his shirt—which was already terribly wrinkled, stained with dried, dark red marks that looked like lipstick, or perhaps... tears. She didn't dare look closely, nor did she dare to think about what they were.

"To... to take a shower..." Her voice was as quiet as a mosquito's buzz. "And then... go to work..."

"Take the day off," Song Tianhao said succinctly. His eyes seemed to remain closed as his chin rubbed gently against the top of her head with a post-sleep laziness, yet his words carried a firm resolve. "Today's morning class for the acting class is cancelled for the day."

Lee Qri was stunned.

She had envisioned countless scenarios she might face this morning—awkwardness, silence, him calmly telling her last night was an "accident," or perhaps business-like reminders to "remember to pay tuition," or even letting her leave as if nothing had happened.

But she hadn't expected him to be so natural, taking it so much for granted that he made the decision for her, even directly arranging to "cancel the class."

It was as if... everything that happened last night was, to him, the most natural sequence of events, an extension of an established fact.

"B-But..." Her mind was still a dazed, and she subconsciously protested, "The other members will get suspicious... absent from morning class without reason..."

Besides, having spent the night out, how was she going to explain it to Boram, who shared her dorm? What if Soyeon-onni and the others asked?

"Let them suspect."

Song Tianhao finally opened his eyes. His arm still encircled her, while his other hand reached up to tuck a stray lock of messy hair behind her ear.

His movement wasn't particularly gentle, carrying a bit of post-waking casualness, but his fingertips brushing past the skin of her ear still made her shiver slightly.

He looked down at the blushing cheeks and dodging gaze of the woman in his arms. Suddenly leaning in, he pressed a very light kiss to her smooth forehead.

The kiss was very light, parting as soon as it touched, yet it carried an air of possession.

Then, his deep voice sounded by her ear, carrying that characteristic morning hoarseness, each word slipping clearly into her ears:

"My person, I'll protect."

Lee Qri's breath hitched, her heart feeling as if it had been heavily struck by something, skipping several beats in an instant.

My person.

These words seemed to possess magic, yet also felt like an invisible shackle, falling lightly but carrying immense weight. It declared a sense of belonging and cut off all her retreats and wishful thinking.

Lee Qri's cheeks were incredibly hot, her heart beating so fast it felt like it would leap out of her chest. She wanted to say something, her lips parting, but she couldn't make a sound. Her fingers merely curled unconsciously, gripping the edge of his suit jacket covering her.

Just then, from outside the practice room door, the sound of a key inserting and turning in the lock suddenly echoed!

Click.

The blood in Lee Qri's entire body instantly froze, her body turning as rigid as a stone, and even her breathing came to a halt.

It was the cleaning lady! Every morning at six-thirty, the cleaning lady responsible for this floor would arrive on time to open the door and clean!

Song Tianhao had obviously heard the sound too. The arm around her waist tightened slightly, while his other hand quickly covered her mouth, mouthing a "shh" to her.

Lee Qri's eyes widened. She stared at him in terror, not daring to move an inch.

The door was pushed open, the old hinges letting out a faint creak. Next came the familiar humming of the cleaning lady with her regional accent, along with the rolling sound of the cleaning cart being pushed in.

The sound drew closer and closer.

Lee Qri's heart beat like a drum. She could clearly hear the roar of blood rushing to her head.

What did she look like right now? Messy hair, disheveled clothes, lying on a mat in the practice room with the president... if they were seen...

She didn't even dare to think of the consequences. Fear made her body tremble slightly.

Song Tianhao felt her trembling. He pressed his hand over her mouth slightly harder, signaling her to calm down. His gaze was calm and steady, without much panic, as he listened closely to the movements outside.

The cleaning lady seemed to just routinely start wiping down the mirrors, her humming intermittent. The cleaning cart was parked near the door, still some distance away from the mat area.

Time passed second by second, each one feeling as if it were stretched into a century.

Lee Qri held her breath, not even daring to blink. All her senses were focused on the humming and wiping sounds coming from outside, drawing closer and closer.

She could smell the clean scent on Song Tianhao, feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, and hear her own frantic heartbeat. Shame, fear, and a strange sense of security from being closely protected in his arms—all kinds of emotions intertwined, nearly causing her to break down.

Just as the cleaning lady seemed to be pushing the cart toward the mat area, her humming growing clearer, Lee Qri's phone suddenly vibrated!

Buzz... Buzz...

In the silent practice room, this vibration was exceptionally clear and piercing!

Outside the door, the humming and footsteps instantly stopped.

Lee Qri's pupils contracted sharply, her face turning instantly pale.

Song Tianhao's brow also furrowed imperceptibly. The hand covering her mouth loosened slightly as his other hand quickly reached into his suit jacket pocket, accurately finding the vibrating phone and silencing it without even looking.

The vibration stopped abruptly.

The practice room fell back into a dead silence.

Outside, the cleaning lady also seemed taken aback. After a few seconds of silence, she let out a puzzled "Huh?" and muttered, "What was that sound? Did I hear wrong?"

Then, the humming started up again, but the footsteps changed direction, seemingly heading toward the lockers on the other side. This was followed by the sound of retrieving cleaning supplies, and then the humming and footsteps gradually faded away. Finally, the sound of the practice room door being closed again echoed.

The cleaning lady had gone out.

Only when she was sure there was no more movement outside did Lee Qri suddenly breathe a sigh of relief. Feeling completely drained of strength, she slumped limply into Song Tianhao's arms, a cold sweat breaking out across her back.

Song Tianhao also released his hand from her mouth, his palm still feeling her warm, rapid breaths.

After the relief of surviving the ordeal, a deeper sense of embarrassment and awkwardness set in. Lee Qri buried her face in his wrinkled shirt, not daring to look up. Her voice was muffled and tearful, "...This is so embarrassing..."

If they had really been discovered just now, she couldn't even imagine the consequences. The president of Star Entertainment and one of his female artists disheveled in the practice room at dawn...

If this news were to break, let alone her acting career, the entire T-ara, and even Song Tianhao's company would be finished.

Song Tianhao didn't speak. He merely raised his hand and somewhat roughly ruffled her messy long hair, making it even wilder, before saying in a low voice, "Now you know to be afraid?"

Lee Qri remained silent, only burying her face even deeper.

"Weren't you quite bold last night?" No particular emotion could be heard in Song Tianhao's voice, but Lee Qri inexplicably felt that he seemed to be... in a good mood?

Remembering how she had grabbed his hem last night and said "teach me more," her face burned again. She gave a light squirm in his arms to protest.

Song Tianhao stopped teasing her. Glancing at the sky outside, which was growing brighter, he finally released his arm from her waist and sat up first.

With his movement, the suit jacket covering Lee Qri slipped down slightly. The cool morning air instantly invaded her exposed shoulders and arms, making her shiver involuntarily, and making her more acutely aware of her current state of undress.

Lee Qri's practice outfit was currently crumpled, with several buttons undone and the collar wide open. Her collarbones and chest were covered in red marks from their night together, and her skirt was in a terrible mess.

Flustered, she pulled up the slipped suit jacket and wrapped herself tightly in it, exposing only her flushed face.

[part:gemini-3.1-flash-lite]

Song Tianhao stood up and stretched his slightly stiff neck and shoulders.

The white shirt on his body was even more wrinkled than her practice clothes; it bore not only traces of lipstick but also dried tear stains. The hem was pulled halfway out of his dress trousers, giving him a rare, lazy, and disheveled look that, strangely, did not appear sloppy, but rather possessed a unique kind of sexiness.

He bent down, picked up his suit jacket from the floor—the one he had used to wrap her in last night and later placed underneath her—gave it a shake, and then turned to look at Lee Qri, who was still curled up on the mat, wrapping herself into a ball like a quail with his jacket.

"Can you walk?" he asked.

Lee Qri tried to move her legs, but another wave of soreness washed over her, especially in certain areas, which throbbed with a distinct ache. She bit her lip and shook her head gently, her cheeks flushed crimson.

Song Tianhao said nothing; he simply walked over with the crumpled suit jacket, leaned down, wrapped it more securely around her from head to toe, and then scooped her up horizontally into his arms.

As her body suddenly lifted into the air, Lee Qri let out a soft cry and instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.

"President..."

"Don't move." Song Tianhao held her, his steps steady, as he walked toward the back door of the practice room. That area was usually used for moving large props and connected to a relatively quiet logistics corridor that was rarely used.

As they passed the massive floor-to-ceiling mirror, Song Tianhao's steps faltered slightly.

The mirror clearly reflected their figures: a tall and upright man wearing a rumpled shirt and dress trousers, holding a woman wrapped tightly in a large suit jacket, with only her small face and messy long hair visible.

The woman's cheeks were flushed, her eyes darted away, her lips were slightly swollen, and the faint red marks on her neck and collarbone all bore witness to the madness of last night.

And on the man's shirt, those mottled traces were equally conspicuous.

Song Tianhao's gaze lingered on Lee Qri's face in the mirror for a moment before he suddenly spoke, his voice calm and devoid of emotion: "Look."

Not understanding, Lee Qri followed his gesture and looked at herself in the mirror.

The woman in the mirror had messy hair, eyes still red-rimmed from crying, flushed cheeks, and slightly swollen lips. Her expression was timid, carrying the post-coital languor and embarrassment; she was completely devoid of the elegant and proper "goddess" image she maintained in front of the camera, looking instead like a frightened little bird with rain-drenched feathers.

"Your eyes right now," Song Tianhao said, looking at her in the mirror, his tone as flat as if he were stating an objective fact, "could play any crying scene."

Lee Qri froze, staring at the strange, fragile version of herself in the mirror. Those eyes, always praised by fans as "clear and elegant," were now wet, the corners red, filled with lingering passion, shame, anxiety, and a trace of confusion and dependency she hadn't even realized herself—the result of being completely possessed.

No exquisite makeup, no perfect facial expression management, only the most raw, real emotions.

Was this... the real her? The Lee Qri who shone brilliantly on stage, the "Madam" who always smiled gently—was this fragile, disheveled appearance what lay underneath the layers of pretense?

Song Tianhao didn't wait for her to dwell on it; he carried her and continued toward the back door. Pushing open the heavy fire door, they entered a quiet, deserted logistics corridor. The lighting was dim, and the air held a faint scent of dust mixed with disinfectant.

"Tuition has been paid once," Song Tianhao said, his steady footsteps echoing in the empty corridor as he held her, his deep voice resonating in the silence, "there are countless times to go."

He paused, turned his head slightly, and brought his lips almost against her earlobe, his warm breath fanning across her skin:

"Are you afraid?"

Lee Qri's body trembled slightly, and her arms tightened around his neck.

Was she afraid? She asked herself.

Afraid of this illicit relationship? Afraid of the total ruin that would follow if it were discovered? Afraid that this was merely a transaction, a "lesson" she had traded herself for, with no telling how long it would last?

Or was she afraid... of drowning in this warmth and possession that came with pain, and never being able to turn back?

She didn't answer; she simply buried her face deeper into the crook of his neck, inhaling the clean scent of him and the fragrance that belonged to her, left behind from last night.

Song Tianhao didn't seem to expect an answer. He turned a corner while holding her and arrived at a door at the end of the corridor. It was his private lounge for the President; he usually rested there when working late, and it had a private bathroom and a bed that wasn't very large.

Holding her with one arm, he fished the key out of his dress trouser pocket with his other hand and opened the door.

The lounge was not large, but it was neat and clean, with a black, white, and gray color scheme that suited his usual style perfectly. There was a large desk, a bookshelf, a single sofa, and a single bed in the corner that looked quite comfortable. Beside it was a door leading to an en-suite bathroom.

Song Tianhao carried her inside, kicked the door shut, and walked straight to the bedside, gently setting her down on the edge of the bed.

"Sit and don't move," he instructed, then turned and walked toward the bathroom.

Wrapped in his suit jacket, Lee Qri sat on the edge of the bed, looking around the unfamiliar space with a sense of unease. The room was filled with his presence everywhere—cold, simple, and meticulous.

Soon, Song Tianhao came out of the bathroom, holding a brand-new white bath towel and a dark gray men's bathrobe that was also brand-new, with the tag still attached. He handed the towel and robe to her: "Go take a shower, the hot water is ready."

Lee Qri took the soft bath towel and bathrobe. Her fingertips brushed against the cold tag, and she froze for a moment, instinctively looking up at him: "President, do you... keep these stocked here?"

New bath towel, new bathrobe, even with the tags still on.

Song Tianhao was undoing the remaining buttons on his shirt. At her words, his movements paused. He looked back at her, his tone flat: "Starting from today, they will be."

Having said that, he no longer looked at Lee Qri and continued unbuttoning. Then, he efficiently stripped off the crumpled, stained white shirt and tossed it casually into the laundry hamper nearby.

Song Tianhao's muscle lines were smooth and well-defined; his waist and abdomen were firm, his shoulders broad, and there were a few shallow scratch marks on his back.

Lee Qri's face heated up, and she hurriedly looked away.

Song Tianhao didn't seem to notice her embarrassment and walked straight into the bathroom. Soon, the sound of rushing water came from inside.

He... was taking a shower?

Lee Qri sat blankly on the edge of the bed, holding the soft bath towel and bathrobe, listening to the sound of water from the bathroom, her mind in chaos. Traces and a sticky sensation from last night still lingered on her skin, and certain areas remained numb and sore, reminding her of what had happened.

And now, she was sitting in his lounge, about to use his bathroom, wearing the new bathrobe he "started keeping stocked from today"...

All of this felt surreal, and carried a subtle sense of... being completely incorporated into his territory.

Just then, the phone in her pocket began to vibrate again.

"Buzz... buzz..."

Lee Qri snapped back to reality and hurriedly fished the phone out of the suit jacket pocket. The screen lit up, displaying several unread messages and missed calls—from Boram, from Soyeon, from Eunjung... and several others from a number she hadn't saved but knew by heart.

Her fingers were stiff as she tapped on the latest message, which came from that unnamed number; it was from her younger sister, Lee Jihyun.

The message was very short, only one sentence, but it felt like an icicle, instantly piercing the faint, unrealistic ambiguity and trance that had just risen in her heart:

"Unnie, Mom went to that place again. I followed her, and I'm at the entrance now. There are two men surrounding her, and they seem to be arguing... I'm scared, what should I do?"

Below it was a slightly blurry photo, clearly taken secretly. The background of the photo was the entrance of a shady-looking arcade, with neon lights flashing the words "Lucky Home."

Three people stood at the entrance. The middle-aged woman in the floral dress with a slightly hunched back was her mother, and the two men in loud floral shirts, looking like hoodlums, were surrounding her on the left and right. One of them was pointing at her mother with a malicious expression.

Lee Qri's hand jerked violently, and the phone fell onto the polished floor with a "clatter," screen facing up. The message and the jarring photo were still clearly visible.

The color drained from her face instantly, her lips trembled slightly, and her eyes were fixed on the phone screen on the floor. Her body turned cold, as if she had fallen into an ice cellar.

The sound of water in the bathroom stopped.

The frosted glass door was pulled open, and a figure carrying warm, humid air walked out.

Song Tianhao had only a bath towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still dripping, and water droplets slid down his firm chest and abdominal muscles. Seeing Lee Qri's instantly pale face and devastated expression, he furrowed his brows slightly, his gaze following hers to the phone on the floor, its screen still lit.

He walked over, bent down, and picked up the phone.

The photo and message on the screen were plain to see.

Song Tianhao's gaze lingered on the photo for two seconds, his face expressionless, and then he pressed the side button, and the screen went dark.

He casually placed the phone on the desk nearby, making a slight "click" sound.

"We'll talk after you shower," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. He simply picked up the brand-new bath towel, walked over to Lee Qri, and used it to wipe away—somewhat roughly—the tears that had overflowed from her eyes again without her realizing. "For now, you only need to think about one thing."

He tossed the used towel aside, leaned down, and braced his hands on the edge of the bed on either side of her, trapping her between himself and the mattress. The warm breath from his recent shower, mixed with the refreshing scent of his body wash, washed over her, carrying with it damp water vapor.

Lee Qri was forced to look up, meeting his deep, calm eyes. The emotions within them were faint, yet they held a strange power that caused her wildly beating heart to steady slightly.

Song Tianhao looked at her still-pale face and red-rimmed eyes, his gaze lingering for a moment on her slightly trembling lips. Then, he slowly straightened up, walked toward the bathroom door, turned his head, and cast a glance at her.

The heat in the bathroom had not yet dissipated, and hazy water droplets still clung to the frosted glass.

He stood at the bathroom entrance, water droplets dripping from his short, neat hair, sliding down his neck and disappearing into the edge of the towel wrapped around his waist.

"Do you want to shower together?"

His voice came through, mixed with the lingering steam in the bathroom—very calm, without even a fluctuation—yet it was like a pebble thrown into the chaotic lake of Lee Qri's heart.