The gin burned Koo's throat as she tossed it back, her third this hour. The club pulsed around her—bodies grinding, sweat-slick skin catching neon flashes. She adjusted the strap of her sheer top, the fabric practically painted onto her tits. A guy at the bar hadn't stopped staring. She smirked, stretching her arms overhead just to watch his eyes bug out when her skirt rode higher.

"Another?" the bartender asked, nodding at her empty glass.

Koo tapped her nails against the counter. "Make it two. One for my friend over there." She jerked her chin toward the staring guy, then licked her lips slow when he stiffened.

At the other end of the city, Taehyung scrubbed a hand down his face as Hana chattered about her sister's visit next weekend. "Koo's bringing her new boyfriend, apparently," Hana said, stirring her tea. "She says he's 'the one.'"

Taehyung snorted into his coffee. He'd heard that before. Koo's 'the ones' never lasted longer than her manicures.

Back at the club, Koo's fingers trailed down the guy's arm. "You drink fast," she purred, watching his throat bob as he swallowed. "Guess you're good with your mouth, then." His ears turned red. She loved that—how easy they folded.

Hana sighed, setting her mug down. "I just wish she'd settle down. All those boys... it's not healthy."

Taehyung kept his eyes on his newspaper. If only his wife knew half of what her sister got up to. The one time he'd accidentally walked in on Koo changing—back arched, thong string biting into that fat ass—had seared itself behind his eyelids for weeks.

Koo's laugh rang sharp over the music as her new toy fumbled with his wallet. "Oh, sweetie," she cooed, plucking it from him. "Let me." Her fingers brushed his, slow. The guy looked like he might pass out.

The clock in Taehyung's kitchen ticked louder somehow. Hana kept talking. Koo kept winning. And somewhere between the gin and the guilt, the night stretched on.

"Did you hear me?" Hana flicked a sugar packet at him. "Her boyfriend's some finance guy. Works at—"

"GS Tower, yeah. You said." Taehyung folded the paper too sharply. He remembered Koo last Thanksgiving—dropping gravy on her cleavage, making a show of bending over to wipe it up while her then-boyfriend gaped like a fish. Finance guys were always the worst. "Should we bet on how long this one lasts? I give it three weeks."

Hana rolled her eyes. "You're awful." But she smiled when she said it.

Across town, Koo's fingers were already tangled in the guy's hair, dragging him toward the club's back hallway. His belt buckle clinked against the wall as she shoved him into the shadows. "You stare a lot," she murmured against his jaw, grinding her hips slow. "Like what you see?"

He choked out something about her being perfect. She laughed against his mouth. They always said that.

Meanwhile, Taehyung's coffee had gone cold. He stared at the dregs, thinking about the way Koo's skirt clung to her thighs last summer, how she'd "accidentally" spilled wine down her front at his birthday dinner. The way his wife just sighed and handed her a napkin.

The guy was panting now, hands fumbling at Koo's waistband. She let him struggle—his shaking fingers made it funnier. When he finally got the zipper down, she arched into his touch just to hear him whimper. "Good boy," she cooed, as if praising a dog. The music thumped through the walls, bass syncing with his frantic heartbeat under her palm.

Hana's phone buzzed on the table. "Koo says she's staying at a friend's tonight." She shook her head. "Probably means she's already ditching that poor guy."

Taehyung's knuckles went white around his mug. He wondered if Koo's "friend" would be the one peeling her skirt off later. If she'd make the same breathy little sounds she'd made that time he'd—

"Earth to Tae?" Hana waved a hand. "You're zoning out."

He forced a smile. "Just tired." The lie tasted bitter. But not as bitter as Koo's lipstick would, he imagined. If he ever let himself find out.

Rain smeared the taxi window as Koo slumped in the backseat, her tiny dress soaked through. She'd left the club with smudged mascara and a broken heel— the guy had lasted exactly four hours. Pathetic. She pressed her thighs together, still throbbing from how quick he'd come. Boys were so fucking disappointing.

——

Three days later, the doorbell rang at 2 AM. Taehyung opened it to find Koo shivering in a sequined scrap of fabric that barely covered her ass. "H-hi," she sniffled, eyes glistening with fake tears. "C-can I come in?" Her nipples pebbled visibly under the wet fabric. Behind him, Hana gasped.

"Oh my god, Kookie!" Hana rushed forward, wrapping her sister in a hug that pushed Koo's tits against Taehyung's arm. He inhaled sharply—vanilla and sex. "What happened?"

Koo buried her face in Hana's shoulder, shoulders shaking. "He—he said I was too much," she whimpered. A perfect tear rolled down her cheek. "I just... need to be somewhere safe. No men. Just family." Her gaze flicked up to Taehyung's for half a second. Challenge glinted there before she dissolved into another sob.

Taehyung's jaw tightened. Safe. Right. Like that time she'd "tripped" and landed in his lap during game night. Like when she'd "forgotten" her panties and strolled dripping from their shower. He turned toward the kitchen before his dick could betray him further. "I'll make tea."

Hana rubbed Koo's back, oblivious. "Of course you can stay, baby. As long as you need." She pulled back, frowning at Koo's outfit. "Where's your coat?"

Koo hugged herself, making her cleavage jiggle. "Forgot it." Another tear. "I was so upset, I just ran..."

Taehyung slammed the kettle down harder than necessary. He knew that fucking look. Koo's "heartbreak" always conveniently left her half-naked in his space. The worst part? It worked every goddamn time. He adjusted himself discreetly as the water boiled.

In the living room, Koo curled on the couch with Hana fussing over her. She peeked at Taehyung through her lashes—right as she stretched, making her dress ride up to reveal the barest flash of pink. His grip on the teacup turned lethal. Few days with her under this roof? He'd need colder showers than hell could provide.