The Outsider Omega Wants to Be Alone! Chapter 6

There’s always a reason why lectures have people remaining until the very end. The Western professor with a head full of white hair spoke Korean fairly well, but his speech was extremely, very, slow.

Thanks to his severe K-patch, the lecture content—supposedly stemming from his European origin—was boring and trite without any uniqueness, which was an added bonus.

‘Sleepy.’

Perhaps Choi Jigu wasn’t sleepy, as he focused on the class with sparkling eyes burning with academic fervor. Because of this, the professor’s gaze never strayed from the direction of the two throughout the entire lecture.

Lee Yuseong, caught in the crossfire and receiving the professor’s expectant gaze because of Choi Jigu, was dying of discomfort.

Springing up. The moment the lecture ended, Lee Yuseong stood up from his seat. But once again, his bag was caught by that guy Choi Jigu.

“Why, again.”

He asked, suppressing the urge to slap his hand away.

“You have a break next period, right?”

How did he know? For a moment, he was speechless.

“You’re not good at lying.”

And how did he know that? He was speechless for a second time.

Seeing his dumbfounded face, Choi Jigu burst out laughing.

“It’s written all over your face. You’re cute.”

What kind of bullshit is this? I need to get away from this bastard, fast.

Unable to hold back any longer, Lee Yuseong forcibly pried off Choi Jigu’s hand.

“I have a break too. Let’s eat together.”

Choi Jigu’s hand, which had been detached without any resistance, immediately grasped Lee Yuseong’s wrist. It was an incredible sleight of hand.

∞ ∞ ∞

When he came to his senses, Lee Yuseong was sitting face to face with Choi Jigu in the student cafeteria.

Because of Choi Jigu’s handsome face, gazes from all around kept sweeping over the table where the two sat.

‘Ah. I want to be alone.’

He had used up all his social energy for the day. He wanted to go home, cover himself with a blanket, and not move an inch, but after his lectures ended, he even had to go to his part-time job in the evening.

“You like being alone, don’t you.”

“…”

“Yeah, you do.”

Afraid that Choi Jigu would again say it’s written all over his face, Lee Yuseong deliberately showed no reaction. He just poked at the noodles of his 4,000-won udon with his chopsticks.

“Don’t you get bored being alone? Ah. Is that it? You know, that thing that’s trending these days.”

He didn’t really know about trends. He just scooped up a piece of fried tofu and shoved it into his mouth.

Oh. It tasted quite good. The soft and fluffy fried tofu, moderately soaked in udon broth. The savory yet cleanly finished aftertaste was excellent.

It was a moment of feeling slightly grateful to Choi Jigu, who had forcibly ordered two bowls of udon, saying that the udon at their school cafeteria was famous.

‘Is he a guy who knows his food?’

The moment he looked up at Choi Jigu, their eyes met squarely.

“An introvert?”

“…”

This guy seems to have a knack for making someone’s mood weird.

It was strange. There was nothing better or worse about being an extrovert or an introvert, but when harmless insiders like him asked, ‘You’re an introvert, aren’t you?’, it was oddly irritating.

“…You’re an extrovert, right?”

But at times like that, he at least knew what kind of reaction those so-called extroverts liked. So he said exactly that. Sure enough, at Lee Yuseong’s question, Choi Jigu smiled brightly.

“How did you know?”

“It would be weirder not to know.”

“Really? I do like hanging out with people.”

“Yeah, you look like it.”

Which is why he must be tormenting Lee Yuseong, the outsider who just wants to be alone.

He lifted the udon noodles with his chopsticks. Steam rose in wisps from the taut, glossy noodles. They looked very appetizing. Lee Yuseong slurped up the noodles.

At that moment, a loose smile hanging on his lips, Choi Jigu asked in a low voice.

“So that’s why you were avoiding me?”

“Cough!”

Yuseong burst out coughing. The strands of udon plopped back into the bowl, and a few drops of broth splattered onto his glasses.

For Lee Yuseong, who had frozen solid in an instant, Choi Jigu grabbed a few napkins and pressed them into his hand. Overlapping the back of his hand, he placed the tissue onto his palm and then curled Yuseong’s fingers around it.

He was embarrassed. He felt heat rising to his face. Lee Yuseong was the type to blush easily. His lips, which had turned even redder than his flushed face, quivered slightly.

“…I wasn’t avoiding you.”

He definitely was avoiding him. His inner thoughts had been completely read. But he couldn’t help saying that. It was because he wasn’t confident he could handle the inevitable ‘Why?’ that would come if he admitted to avoiding him.

“Hmm. Really?”

Choi Jigu’s gaze lingered on Lee Yuseong. His mischievous eyes squarely held only Yuseong.

“Why would I avoid you.”

“You were avoiding me.”

“…We’re going to meet at the part-time job in the evening anyway, why would I bother.”

He averted his eyes and wiped the corner of his mouth. Lee Yuseong wasn’t good at lying. That was why he tended to choose to reduce his words and stay quiet even more.

“You’re really bad at lying.”

Choi Jigu pulled up the corners of his mouth, his eyes folding into a smile. Not only the refreshing way his eyes creased, but the shape of his lips when he smiled was remarkably pretty. A slight dimple caught his eye. He could see why everyone liked Choi Jigu.

Afraid his inner thoughts would be read further, Yuseong quickly averted his eyes and, without any answer, took off his glasses with a sour face. He was wiping his glasses by tapping them with a napkin when— oh.

Choi Jigu’s body was gradually leaning toward Lee Yuseong.

“…Too close.”

With a displeased look, Yuseong slowly pulled his head back. Exactly as much as Choi Jigu came closer, he retreated backward.

Screech. The sound of friction scraping beneath his chair could be heard.

Choi Jigu ducked his head low and peered at Lee Yuseong’s face beneath his cap. The gaze that seemed to scrutinize his face piece by piece was burdensome to Yuseong.

An ambiguous sensation. A strange tension.

Yuseong tried to put his glasses back on.

But at that moment, Choi Jigu snatched his glasses and spoke.

“You’re really pretty.”

He was rendered speechless yet again.

It was the first time he had ever heard such words. Even if he had been born an omega, Lee Yuseong was a native of the Republic of Korea. The word ‘pretty’ delivered to a deeply-rooted Confucian boy. From Lee Yuseong’s perspective, it was hard to tell if this was a compliment or an insult.

However, it was simply that Lee Yuseong lacked self-awareness—Choi Jigu’s words were correct.

With his glasses off, Yuseong’s eyes became about twice as large. His fair, clear skin, round and distinct eyes, well-defined nose, and thick lips that were originally deeply colored combined into features that befitted the modifier ‘beauty.’

The face that had been half hidden by glasses was handsome and pretty. It was a face comparable to an idol’s.

“Give them back. I can’t see well.”

Lee Yuseong was just troubled. He wanted to escape this strange atmosphere. Earlier he took his hat, and now his glasses. Choi Jigu really was a willful guy.

“Just a moment.”

His face began to draw close again.

There was no more room to retreat. His chair was precariously balanced, its front legs lifting off the ground with only the back legs barely holding on. It was on the verge of tipping. If he went any further, he might just fall backward and crack the back of his head. So Lee Yuseong couldn’t retreat any further.

In his blurry, frustrating field of vision, only Choi Jigu’s face was gradually becoming clear.

As if in a world where everything else had been smeared away, the focus was solely on Choi Jigu.

Choi Jigu’s black eyes, which had been full of mischief, were now gleaming with curiosity. They moved slowly, drawing a trajectory. The arc that traced Lee Yuseong’s two eyes, nose, and cheeks, and the movement that finally dropped to his lips were vivid.

Lee Yuseong was uncomfortable. His chest felt tight. It felt like the udon he’d barely eaten was going to sit heavy.

He couldn’t take it anymore. Yuseong closed his eyes, righting his chair at the same time, and pushed Choi Jigu’s face away with all his might with both hands.

“Don’t.”

Choi Jigu’s face crumpled. With his face pressed in, he protested.

“Ah, why. It’s not like looking at you wears you out.”

Grumbling and needlessly tensing his face, he looked exactly like a stubborn child.

“Give me back my glasses.”