Stalked

40: Outfit #2

"Alright, open again." Sangwoo commanded.

"That was quic-- YOU'RE NAKED!" You flung your head back down as you tossed a pillow blindly at him. "You butt-sandwich!"

"Butt-sandwich!? How old are you, seven? I haven't been called a butt-sandwich in at least thirteen years!" Sangwoo was taken aback. "Take it back! Or at least call me something more adult, like an asshole."

"No, you can be what you are. A butt-sandwich."

"Take it back or--" He started busting into laughter, "or, or I'll put my flaccid dick on your head."

"Oh my good and gracious greatness, you better not. I'll run away. I'll run away and never come back." You threatened.

"I'll count to three." He began walking over. "One..."

"No!" You curled into a ball and laid on the floor.

"Two..."

"NOOOO!" You shielded your head.

"Two and a half!"

"I won't do it!!!"

"Three!" He jumped right next to you and you screamed, making Sangwoo laugh hysterically as he leaned down and kissed your head through your hoodie, making your scream more. "Relax, those were my lips. I'll get dressed now, you weirdo."

"I'll never trust you again!" You cried out in despair.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever." He rolled his eyes as his phone vibrated. "Damn. Can you read this to me. I'll tell you what to say, if I want to respond."

He threw the phone at you, hitting you in the side.

"Ouch!" You yelped.

"Sorry!" He apologized again. He wasn't very good at giving you things apparently.

"Where are you Oppa?" You read in a mocking voice.

"Ah, Ji Eun. Annoying. Ignore it for the moment. It's too early for her to need to be caring. I'm having fun with you. Will you do my hair for me too?" He asked nonchalantly."

"I don't know how to do boys hair very well." You responded, not looking up.

"Alright, you can look at me now." He pulled the maroon jacket over his black top.

"Oh, much better. You're so handsome Sangwoo, it's like I'm looking at a webtoon character. Unreal. I'm so lucky." You stood up, allowing the hoodie to fall to your thighs.

"And I'm lucky that I'm no boy, meaning that you can help with my hair. I didn't realize how tantalizing you'd be in my sweatshirt. How much time do we have left until the performance?" He asked as his eyes roamed your figure.

"Mm, I'd say twenty minutes before we have to leave." You shrugged. "Are you driving me? I can just hide my bike around the side and come get it tomorrow."

"Yeah, that's fine." He took your hand in his again. "Come with me to the bathroom." Then, he looked down the stairway. "BUM! Get dressed in the clothes I gave you!"

"How do you want your hair done?"

"Gelled back." He shrugged as he pulled you into the small upstairs bathroom, grabbed the gel and took a seat on the toilet; presenting you his hair.

"So do you dye your hair a lot?"

"Not a ton, but obviously it doesn't grow like this; why?" He asked as you grabbed some gel out and rubbed it between your hands. Luckily, he hadn't asked for anything too difficult.

"I'd like it however you liked it. I was just curious on the upkeep. Do you do it yourself?"

"No, I usually date a hairstylist. But you'd do it for me, wouldn't you, little wife?" He grinned at you wolfishly.