Page 67 of From Paris to Seoul

He is on his knees, his lips and tongue moving in rhythm with his fingers as they caress me over and over. Before long, Iscramble to the washing machine, gripping it tightly as I erupt in a scream of pleasure.

“Shhh,” he whispered in my ear, now off his knees and standing behind me. “We don’t want to get into trouble with our neighbor again, do we?” Even without turning to look at him, I could tell he wore a smug grin.

Still not letting me turn toward him, he holds both of my hands behind me with his own. I felt his hardness inside me as he took me from behind, and I moaned again—quieter this time—as our bodies pressed together and he moved deeper inside me.

I heard a soft groan from him as he quickened his pace, a sound that betrayed a moment of vulnerability. Finally, he released my hands, giving me the chance to turn toward him. Feeling a spark of playful defiance, I knelt down and promptly kissed him… right where it mattered.

He began to moan and writhe with pleasure, and I felt satisfaction as his hands held my head, guiding my movements while I took him into my mouth.

“Not yet,” he groaned, stopping me. Obeying, I stood up, and when we were eye to eye, I whispered with a smirk, “Not so loud. Think about our neighbors.”

He grinned, growled playfully, and then lifted me, carrying me to our bedroom.

“Tell me,” he said, gently laying me on the bed, “what would you like me to do, Princess?”

I threw him a glare, though I knew that “Princess” had become his cute nickname for me whenever we were alone. “I just want you to love me like you always do,” I replied, meeting his eyes.

Something sparked in him as he pressed his body against mine. My fingers tangled in his hair as I pulled him closer. It felt different this time—more than just need, more than merepassion. It was grounding, reassuring—a silent promise that no matter how chaotic everything else was, this… us… were real.

The sheets tangled around us as our breaths mingled, and in the quiet of the night, with only the sound of rain tapping against the window, nothing else mattered.

Later that evening, as we lay sprawled on the couch, Baekhyun lazily strummed his electric bass. I mentioned that I’d signed up for piano lessons.

“That’s great,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “And Japanese lessons too?”

I nodded. “I figured it’d be easier if I could actually say more than just ‘thank you’ and ‘sorry.’”

He smirked. “Well, those are the most important words, after all.”

I roll my eyes, but a smile tugs at my lips. “Also, I was thinking… since we’ve been working on music together, shouldn’t we come up with a duo name?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Like a band name?”

“Yeah. When our song comes out. I mean, we can’t just be ‘Seo-yeon and Baekhyun’—that sounds too plain. Plus, it’d make it too easy for my parents to track us down.”

He hums thoughtfully. “What about…From Paris to Seoul?”

I stare at him, warmth blooming in my chest. “I like that.”

He grins. “Maybe we could even try singing a French song one day.”

I wrap an arm around him and giggle. “Or even a Japanese song,” I add, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Whatever it is, let’s make something great together.”

As I curl up next to him, listening to the soft hum of his electric bass, I realize that, for the first time in my life, I’m not just chasing a dream. Even though I haven’t got everything figured out… I’m living it.

Epilogue

The van rumbled down the road, passing stretches of Japan’s breathtaking autumn colors as Baekhyun hummed along to the soft music playing in the background. Seo-yeon sat beside him, absentmindedly flipping through a travel guide—more out of habit than necessity—since she already had a list of places she wanted to visit.

Not that they were in a rush. This wasn’t just a trip—it was how they lived now.

For the past few months, they had been settling into their new life in Fukuoka, finding their own rhythm. Seo-yeon spent her days at the local piano school while continuing to improve her Japanese, and Baekhyun had finally wrapped up filming his drama in Japan.

The first episode ofThe Man from Seoul—a drama blending Japanese and Korean storytelling—had aired a few weeks ago, earning high ratings and praise for its unique mix of both styles.

With the project behind him, Baekhyun was now flooded with offers for dramas, modeling gigs, and other projects. But for the first time in his life, he had financial security.

His earnings from the drama allowed him to comfortably pay for his sister’s entire tuition and send money regularly to his mother, who was now living peacefully in the countryside. He was even considering investing the rest into passive income, ensuring a stable future beyond acting.

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