If she could sum up their past three months together, it would be a ride on the rollercoaster. Not one of those kiddy Disney rides, but the hardcore, heart-stopping ones. Exhilarating, but terrifying. Disconcerting, but astounding. With every turn and drop, the adrenaline rocketing through her blood made her heart pump, furious and strong. She's never felt more alive and she craved for more. But at the same time, she never knew if the ride was going to end on a climatic high, or it was going to send her crashing into the pits of hell.

And now it felt like hell.

Earlier that morning, she had woken up slightly disoriented. Where was she? What did she do? Then it all came rushing back to her. Arriving in Jeju, the spontaneous meeting with his Omma, the barbecue, the eavesdropping, the pool...The pool. For a moment she wondered if it had all been a dream, if the secret tyrst in the waters was just a figment of her overactive imagination. But then she stretched and she felt it in her body. That dull ache between her legs, that subtle sting in her sensitive tips from his relentless ministrations. It made her all warm and breathy again, just thinking about the look of concentration on his face as he worshipped her body, that smug face when she hit her high, that uncomfortable squirm when she touched him...until that look of regret flashed across his face, followed by the vacancy in his eyes as they parted ways. That certainly sobered her up quickly.

So she had ventured out of her room that morning with a mix of trepidation and anticipation. Excited that they had finally made some progress in their physical relationship, but also wary that they might had taken two steps back emotionally, if his suddenly distant demeanour was any indication.

She ran into him in the kitchen. Bustling around as he prepared breakfast with his Omma, he had flashed her a tired smile, and turned back to resume his work - cutting vegetables, stirring the pot, retrieving eggs from the fridge. Meanwhile his Omma gave instructions like the head chef, occasionally slapping his hand away when he tried to steal food. She was all ready to put on an apron and lend a hand, but they shooed her away, in fact anybody, who offered to help, clearly contented with their mother-son partnership. The sight of them made her smile, but also slightly melancholic when she thought about what it meant to be part of their family. Would they accept her? Would she fit in seamlessly? If it's even possible to become a part of them.

Breakfast was a noisy affair, with nine adults seated at the table, making random small talk in between mouthfuls of food. Not her though. She just quietly picked at her breakfast, watching the table occupants engage in idle chatter, with an inside joke thrown in here and there, obviously very at ease with one another after years of friendship. And she's like the outsider, peering into a world she's inept in. She would have made a greater effort to join in if not for that unsolicited feedback about her behaviour the night before. How she was apparently 'laughing at everything everybody says' because she's 'trying very hard to fit in'. Not totally untrue because she was making an effort to be liked, but it didn't mean it didn't hurt. Especially when she'd been nothing but genuine so far. Now it just made her really self-conscious and mindful of every move she made.

The only person who seemed to have caught on to her out-of-character reticence was her Oppa, who cast her a few probing looks throughout breakfast. But she simply smiled and feigned tiredness, an excuse which he seemed to buy as he relaxed into his seat. He, on his part, was suspiciously boisterous. Even more so than usual, and it bothered her because she knew enough about him at this point to know that it was a reflection of his mental state: he's stressed. The more pressure he's under, the more he distracted himself with incessant talking and jokes. Essentially he's deflecting attention by drawing more attention to himself. Her Oppa's a walking contradiction.

But she didn't get to question him about it because he kept himself busy all day. First breakfast, then cleaning up, then soccer with his pals, and now he's disappeared. She would have been peeved if he hadn't sent her a text to say he's going out to run some errands and that he would be back late. Though it still felt like a cop out, like he didn't want to face her, or risk having her tag along. So a text, it was.

It didn't hel