Hwasa is nowhere to be seen. 

Byulyi scans her eyes across all the tables and bar sections, looking for a pair of red lips, a curvy figure that has bothered her for a while. The word "ually frustrated" sounds wrong in her mind, since she's not like that and Hwasa is surely not a... worker of any kind, but the afterglow of their previous encounter haunts Byulyi just as much, even stronger than anything, if that makes sense. 

Something red catch her eyes on the stage. Byulyi chokes at the sight of Hwasa - in all her glory - in the open back dress, red laces do nothing but give her the mere distance from completely exposes her back. She taps her foot lightly to the rhythm of an imaginary song that only she can hear, leans on the piano, discusses something with the pianist. Her performance must be over for some time.

This resembles their first meeting, also a night when Hwasa was dressed in red. But it wasn't an elegant attire like tonight, it was something a step away from underwear. A lacy red corset.

Their eyes meet, and Byulyi sees the shocked expression of her companion before it turns into an amused smile. Hwasa winks, seductively, but makes no move to get closer to her. Doesn't want to interrupt her work, Byulyi retreat to the bar, calls in the first drink. She's, after many conversations exchanged in hazy state, fully aware of the younger's love for singing, and would do no such thing as stupid as forcing the girl away from it. 

After a few shots, Byulyi feels dizzy. Stuck in such scenario is not her cup of tea at all. The only entertaining performance in this club has already passed.

Funny how far the idea of ecstasy can push her.

Swings the cup of Scotch that the bartender kindly smoked for her earlier in hand, Byulyi runs her fingertip on the rim, the liquor's bronze gleams reflect in her eyes. The flashing lights and hordes of people on the dance floor merge together, blending into a mess of colour, shambolic and chaotic. And suffocating. 

In a moment, it's unreal, as if Byulyi is in a painting or something, like paintings she once saw appeared under Dahee's brushes and . Ethereal and unearthly. Mixed with a tint of danger. 

And the light touch on her shoulder doesn't help. 

"Welcome back, unnie.", Hwasa whispers in her ear huskily. "I've been waiting for you."

Byulyi shivers. 

Hwasa slips into the seat next to her, a malicious smile hanging on her plump lips. Martini is served as a regular for the lady, the bartender adds extra olives and it comes with a soft "Good job".

But she doesn't even flutter an eyelash at him, though pleased expression constant on her face. Instead, Hwasa turns to her, a lone finger draws an incomprehensive pattern on Byulyi's thigh.

"Do you share the opinion?"

"I...", the older girl swallows, her mind too mushed up to interpret anything but the truth. She's burning under the touch. "I do."

"Liar," Hwasa sneers playfully, eyes glinting. "You wasn't there when I performed."

What comes next is inevitable. 

Byul shakes her head, and delicately, carefully, put her hand on the hand on her thigh. "Well, if that's the case... would you mind giving a private show?"

Hwasa herself knows it is inevitably. Yet, the thrill is just as enticing as the first time. Leans in closer to Byulyi, she deliberately pours that sultry tone in her ear.

"And you know I could never say no to you, Mansaengie."

When Hwasa takes her upstairs, Byulyi tries and fails miserably at not checking her companion out like a ert. Step by step, they get closer to the priciest room with two guards already waiting. Nods solemnly with them as a greeting, Byulyi follows the woman into the close space. The clicking sound of doorlock suffocates her, again.

Byul walks directly to the glass wall looks down to the main area of the bar, where people are still straight up humping on each other on the floor. This height gives her familiar feelings, the feelings she escaped from momentarily.

The feelings of power.

However, Hwasa doesn't let her fall into the deep for too long. Turns Byulyi's head to the eye to eye position to her, Hwasa murmurs, the distance too close to think of it as anything platonic.

"Are they more amusing than I am?" 

"Well, I just..", Byulyi stutters, arms still crossed in front of her chest, too shy to make a move.

"That's not good." Hwasa tuts, takes her wrist in her hand, uncrosses them. Slowly, temptingly, she runs Byulyi's hand up from her knee, through the cut on the side of her dress, to her thigh, and higher.

An arm drapes around Byulyi shoulder, Hwasa brushes the tip of her nose against Byul's ear, breaths heat up the older woman's skin as she speaks. "Eyes on me only, Mansaeng."

Flood with the scent of rose and thyme and something uniquely Hwasa, Byulyi doesn't find it in her to speak back. Hwasa doesn't need her to.

Pushing Byulyi back to the nearby bed, Hwasa crawls to her, and soon enough, there she is, under the burning gaze and wandering touches, aroused as hell.

Hwasa her lips.

"Shall we start?"

-

"You should stop taking night shifts, Hyejin-ah." Wheein whines, pokes at the girl lying motionless on their table. She can understand why Hyejin chooses that shift in the first place but now, since their school year has already started, it'd be better to work in a more reasonable time. 

Besides, she currently has to write notes on periods Hyejin spends sleeping, and it's not an enjoyable experience, as a Student Council President or not. 

Hyejin sits up, drowsy from performing (and ing, O-K), supports herself and cupped face in her hands, smiling. "The night can be enjoyable. I have reason to."

"Whatever reason it is, it can't be good for you."

"You don't know that.", Hyejin protests. "It can be good. Great, even."

Mansaeng is certainly great.

All of sudden, that particular woman pops up in her head. The sheer reason for her exhaustion. The one with magnificent platinum strands she laced her fingers into when they reached their high, and mischievous dimples appeared when she devoured Hyejin's sated body, completely opposite to the shy one when she approached her the first time. They've gone far, she's gone very, very far, but never as much as last night. 

The dreamy thought earns her a punch on her arm by Wheein tiny fist.

"Don't think about anything you don't intend to tell me in front of me," Wheein complains, this close to pushing Hyejin off the chair. "Instead of living in your night fun, can you please help me sorting these documents?"

Picks up a paper filled with tables and statistics, Hyejin asks. "What is this?"

"New instructor's curriculum, apparently. She will replace Prof. Kwon for several months as a professional in her field, that's what the office tell me."

"Economic probability statistics?" Hyejin groans, stands up and takes her bag with her. "Oh gosh, I'm out of here."

Her escape plan proved ineffective as Wheein pulls her back to her seat in 0.2 seconds. "Don't you ing dare. She's a special tutor, attendance counted into final scores."

"Fine, fineeeeee. But--"

Anything Hyejin has to say interrupted by a shy knock, voice soft follows. "Hi, is this the lecture hall for Economic 05?"

That voice is way too familiar to put Hyejin at ease. As she turns around, her smile freezes right on the spot.

Silver hair, glasses hung carelessly on her porcelain face, hand on the door bordering perfection.

Wheein, as an exemplary President she is, stands up to greet Mansaeng.

"Hello! Are you Ms. Moon?"

Ms. Moon???

"Yes.", Mansaeng smiles, seemingly doesn't recognize Hyejin yet. "I'm told that my documents are with Jung Wheein and I should find her at my class?"

"I'm Jung Wheein, ma'am! May you come here, I'm in the middle of sorting them."

At the invitation, the Moon-something walks up the stairs and oh god, Hyejin is trapped. Her instinct comes into the game and of all wise decisions, her brain decides that the best solution is to duck her head down.

The refreshing scent of Mansaeng's perfume gets closer and closer.

Smile tingling in her voice. "Call me 'unnie' is alright, I'm not that much older than you. Thank you, too, I wouldn't be able to file them this neatly. So you are Wheein, the school president if I'm not mistaken?"

"And you are the famous Moon Byulyi.", Wheein - thanks to god, is in good mood - chuckles. Byulyi laughs, then turn to the one other alumnus.

If Wheein sees her flinches, she doesn't point it out.

"Hw--"

"AHN HYEJIN!", Hyejin shouts, abruptly sits up and gives a hand to Byulyi. "I'm Ahn Hyejin, Wheein's friend, nice to meet!"

Byulyi raises an eyebrow at the accquainted face.

The blush that colours her cheeks with peach tone, slips down to her neck even, is something that makes Byulyi's heart flips upside down. In the sunlight, Hw-- Hyejin no longer looks intimidating. Heavy make-up has been gotten rid of. When embarrassed, she looks rather young and docile. Byulyi's mouth curves into a soft smile.

"Ahn Hyejin." The name rolls on her tongue as sweet as candy. Byulyi takes her hand, gently rubs her thumb on the back of Hyejin's hand. "Nice to meet you too."

Hyejin flushes even harder at the contact. Retreats her hand for Hyejin's sake, Byulyi smiles, eyes not leaving the girl. "I'm looking forward to spending time with our class."

With more students come into the hall, Byulyi doesn't stay back for long. Waves a little goodbye to Wheein and Hyejin, she is back to the podium, opens the attendance book. Hyejin's name stands out immediately. Shakes her hed, Byulyi looks back up to her students.

"Welcome to Economics 5. I'm Moon Byulyi, your temporary tutor for the next few months."

The class is filled with praise for her looks and some comments are quietly thrown about wanting things with their new teacher, but Byulyi's eyes are glued at the particular one, who still has her head ducked down low.

Byulyi smirks, knows exactly how to burn Hyejin up.

"Shall we start?"