My Soulmates are IDOLS 1 | Limelight🎇| 18+ [Reverse Harem]

88: Stopped

She was dressed in a large blue, white and yellow knitted sweater. The threads and braids of wool curled and melted into one another in a beautiful mixture of colours.

Her clothes set her apart from the orange plastic background, a vibrant contrast of colours that appealed to Hikaru's eyes. Her pretty rosebud shaped lips were wrapped around a stick of half-eaten fishcakes.

She had a pen in one hand, pressed against a small sketchbook. Hikaru noted that her hair had grown a little longer. The pretty, short locks of dark hair were curling against her neck from the humidity within the tent.

Her eyes were wide open, frozen as she peered at him in shock.

The sight of those eyes roaming over his body and meeting his own sent a shock wave of emotions through him. He couldn't breathe, he could scarcely think.

His legs weakened and he struggled to keep standing. The air suddenly felt too thick and heavy for his lungs. Lungs which seemed to clamp up and refuse to cooperate or absorb the oxygen that he was steadily supplying in quick pants.

He fumbled, feeling overly self-aware of his every action and move. Did he look okay? Was his hair a mess?

His cheeks flushed as she continued to stare at him. His face was hot with his embarrassment as his heart thundered in his chest. The sound was so loud he could feel it vibrating all over his body. Hell, he could feel his blood pumping through his veins and in his ears. The beat mirroring the one thrumming in his cock.

"Hikaru?" His dad's voice echoed through the speaker of his phone.

He opened his mouth trying to stammer something out. An excuse, an explanation, but he couldn't do it. He ended the call quickly before he did something stupid, stuffing the phone in his pocket frantically. He pushed it into his pocket and almost missed the hole and dropped it on the floor because of his sweaty fingers.

Fuck.

He nibbled on his lips, looking away from her as he finally caught hold of the situation. He tried to look aloof, leaning his weight on a table to cross his legs. Just like how the photographers taught him during their photoshoots.

He folded his arms, trying to look away from her but he found his eyes darting back every so often. And he blushed whenever she caught him staring. She looked amused, the shocked expression morphing into a small smirk.

Goddamnit, she definitely saw each one of his shifty glances. He unfolded his legs, standing sheepishly as he flushed redder. The surface of his cheeks was boiling with his embarrassment and he pressed a cold, sweaty hand to his face, an attempt to cool his skin.

Did she hear him? No wait, he spoke Japanese so it's fine, she probably doesn't understand--

"So...I'm your girlfriend now," she spoke thoughtfully in Korean. Her sweet, low voice sending a shiver of pleasure up his spine.

He had forgotten how much her voice seemed to speak to his cock. Forgotten how much he loved the sound and wanted to listen to it on repeat. Forgotten the effect she had on him.

"Interesting." Fuck. Hikaru flushed, his eyes snapping to hers. Did she understand Japanese? His mind blanked at the thought as the blood within his body seemed to boil and evaporate into steam. His heart was racing faster than before.

"My mom is a translator so I know a thing or two," she answered. "The word girlfriend is one of the most used words in Japanese Shoujo(Female) Anime."

She bit her lip, brushing a lock of hair behind her ears. A pink tinge was flourishing on her cheeks, blossoming over her skin. "I didn't know the guy at the buffet was you...I guess I should pay more attention to masked guys next time."

No, no she should only pay attention to him. Only him.

"Is that so?" Her lips twitched.

Oh, fuck. Did he say that out loud? He opened his mouth and snapped it shut, chewing on his lips as he dug his fingers into his pants. He needed to have better control over himself. He needed to control his damn mouth. He stepped back and the sudden surge of emotions that pushed for him to rectify the situation gave him the courage to speak again.

"I-I'm sorry for disturbing your meal I—"

His words were cut off by the aunty placing his meal on her table and his drink, along with two cups. One for her and him. The clink of the glass seemed to make his heart race even faster in the confines of his chest as he stared, mentally horrified but physically delighted at the prospect. His clothes suddenly felt too restrictive, too tight for the racing organ they shielded.

"Enjoy!" The aunty pushed forward a bowl of clam soup with dough flakes. The broth was hot and steam emitted from the savoury dish, swirling in the cold air in an intricate pattern. "It's on the house for couples!"

She beamed brightly at both of them, her expression soft from perhaps the memory of her own lover. Hikaru's mouth dropped open in horror. No! Does she know Japanese too? Hikaru cursed at himself for his stupidity.

The world was now so globalized and advanced that he should have known that most people understood more than a single language. Then again, perhaps it wasn't the language but the tension and emotions that the aunty had caught.

The language of emotions was universal after all. And perhaps, Hikaru's obsession spilt from his skin and saturated the tent in thick needy fumes.

"Ah, we're—" He stammered out trying to be coherent. His lips were fumbling over the Korean. He was no longer as fluent as before, his Japanese accent seeping into his words in his moment of panic.

"Thank you, Aunty!"

His muse chirped and took the bowl shamelessly. What? Hikaru gaped at her. She sent him a look and a raised brow which he returned with his own gobsmacked stare.

"Why don't you sit down my love?"

Her endearing term for him, in Japanese instead of Korean, sent a jolt of heat through his chest. He was trembling, his body loved the sound of those words on her lips and he'd never felt so full and warm for such a long time. He was literally starting to sweat from the heat his body was emitting.

She glanced up at him, letting an amused huff of air escape her nostrils. "I won't bite. I promise." She told him in a matter of fact way, taking a spoon to dip it into the bowl of clam soup.

He watched as she mixed the contents to let the vegetables within float up. She picked up another spoon, plonking it within the soup, an open invitation for him to join her.

An open invitation.

He flushed, turning into a redder shade. He knew Koreans loved sharing food and didn't really have anything against the idea of 'double-dipping'. But his Japanese roots told him that this would be an indirect kiss. An indirect kiss with her.

His eyes darted to the curve of her soft red lips, drawing to the dip of the plump flesh. He shook himself out of his lustful stupor. He wanted to leave, wanted to ditch his food and go before his mind became unable to forget her. Nevertheless, he found his body taking a seat before her like a marionette, controlled by his feelings.

"I'm Ambrosia Momo Pei," she said, popping her last fishcake into her mouth.

Her eyes were darker without the beam of the sun, but they were warm. Warm like gooey chocolate in cookie dough or brownies hot and crumbly from the oven. He could drown in them, drown in them and never surface again.

He could stare into them forever.

"I'm Hikaru, H-Hikaru Aoki," he blurted out while his eyes watched as she hummed in delight over the food. He bit his lips looking away quickly and pulling off his jacket to cover his legs. And his hardening cock. "You...You already know that." He said, thinking about her status as his fan.

For a moment, his mind stopped.