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Summary
Later, lying in her own bed, staring at the ceiling, she tells herself no while her mind betrays her anyway. She imagines being where Yujin is. Imagines Wonyoung above her instead—how she would feel, how she would touch. Hands cupping her mounds, kneading her milky thighs, lingering over skin she already knows too well, before moving lower, greedy, familiar.
I have a better body than her, Jiwon thinks, mean and small and aching. Don’t I?