Glass Hearts [BL]
Chapter 67: I Wouldn’t Go Down On Him, Even If the World Was Ending[June’s POV]

Chapter 67: I Wouldn’t Go Down On Him, Even If the World Was Ending[June’s POV]

JUNE’S POV

Who would’ve thought the first naked man I’d ever see would be the one person I hated most?

My hands were still trembling.

I don’t even know how I made it out of that room without punching him. Or vomiting. Or strangling him with that stupid fluffy towel. Or maybe all three at once.

One minute, I was living my best Cardi-cleaning fantasy and twerking WAP, and the next, I was staring at...it.

Him.

Ian Han. Naked.

Now here I was, clutching my cleaning kit to my chest like it was holy water and I was being hunted by a demon.

I stormed down the hallway, muttering quiet exorcisms under my breath.

"God, bleach my memory. I beg you. Cleanse my retinas."

My face was on fire. My soul? Cracked.

And my dignity?

Left somewhere between his dropped towel and my unholy eyes.

How did this happen?

Why did it have to be him?

Out of all the spoiled, stuck-up rich boys in the city...in the world, I had to walk in on Ian freaking Han, the self-appointed king of high school humiliation.

And now....

He was the first naked man I’d ever seen.

I really wanted it to be Ren.

I still can’t believe I saw it.

The shape.

The color.

The tip.

OMG

"Nooooo," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut like I could unsee it.

"Is that what it actually looks like?"

I remember Mr. Brooks teaching the male reproductive system in anatomy class.

I remember Orion making jokes about it.

But that?

That wasn’t in any textbook.

That was... real.

I thought the diagrams were, you know, scientific distortions.

Nope.

It was alive.

And making eye contact.

I’m still not sure if I should scream, cry, or become a nun.

As if that wasn’t hell enough, he had the nerve....the audacity to look me dead in the eye and say:

"You’re lucky. Most girls would be on their knees right now. But you can never have the privilege."

Like I would ever want that.

Boy, please.

I wouldn’t go down on him even if the world was ending and his dick held the antidote.

The only thing I wanted to go down was my fist....straight into his face.

He’s rude.

He’s annoying.

He’s egoistic.

And now, I’d seen everything.

He literally thinks I should be grateful to have seen it.

Ugh.

His abs weren’t even that impressive. Okay, maybe a little.

But I was too mad to care. And also....what the hell kind of skincare routine does he use?

Why was he glowing like that in this lighting?

Nope. Not thinking that. Purify me, Lord.

I was still trying to mentally scrub the image of "it" out of my brain when I heard someone call my name.

"Miss June."

I blinked and turned. The butler was standing a few feet away, waving a clipboard and frowning like he’d been trying to get my attention for hours.

"Miss June, you have two more rooms to clean," he said sternly. "Please, you need to be fast about it."

Right. Cleaning. That’s why I was here.

Not to get traumatized. Not to see rich-boy dangling thingy.

Not to walk through the valley of shadows of dick.

I nodded and cleared my throat. "Y-Yes, sir. On it."

As I followed him to the next room, I tried to remember who I was before today.

Before WAP.

Before Ian Han’s towel hit the ground.

The butler was walking me down another hallway, when something caught my eye.

I turned my head and stopped.

There....framed in gold and lit by a fancy little spotlight, was a huge painting of the Blackwell Academy crest.

Right next to it was another one painting: Principal Han himself, sitting tall in some giant leather chair, looking all proud and presidential, with his kids standing beside him like some royal family.

Ian was in the middle, of course. He wasn’t naked this time. He looked younger in the painting, maybe sixteen, but still had that smug smirk on his face like he already knew he was better than everyone else.

He wore a black suit, while two girls stood beside him. One of them I recognized immediately: Nari Han. His sister.

Yeah, that Nari. The international kpop idol. Pop princess. Social media goddess. Estrella’s sweetheart. The girl with the voice that could make grown men cry and a fanbase that could probably overthrow a government. I loved her music, still do.

She was basically the Beyoncé of Estrella. They say she goes on tour a lot and barely comes to class at Blackwell, but technically, she’s still a student. I’d only seen her twice in the cafeteria..... surrounded by bodyguards and was always holding Dominic Vale. Rumor has it that they’re childhood sweethearts, and probably dating. Who knows?

The other girl in the painting was a mystery. Probably Ian’s second sister. I’d never seen her before....not online, not in school, not even in passing.

Before I could ask, the butler stopped and opened a door.

"This is Mistress Nari’s room," he said. "She’ll be back soon."

I tensed up a little.

Please don’t let it be another trauma chamber.

But the moment I stepped inside...

Phew.

Thank goodness.

It wasn’t anything like Ian’s disaster zone. In fact, it was beautiful.

The room was spotless, with soft lighting and glittering touches of pink and gold everywhere. The whole place looked like a magazine spread....or the inside of a princess’s private dressing room.

There were silk curtains and shelves lined with designer perfumes. One whole wall was dedicated to her awards, tiaras, platinum albums, and fan art. Real fan art.....framed, autographed, honored like trophies.

I stood there, frozen, slowly taking it all in.

It was amazing.

There was a makeup station, drawers labeled with things like "eyeliner mood chart" and "grief glitter." A life-sized mannequin wore one of her stage outfits..... I stood there like a dazed fan girl at a museum exhibit.

"Wow," I whispered, touching the edge of a glass plaque. "She’s really done all this... And she’s my age?"

She’d actually made something of herself.

People loved her. Looked up to her.

She was living proof that someone from Estrella could dream big and actually make it.

I found myself smiling a little... then that smile faded.

Because suddenly, all I could think about was me.

Just me.

I wish I had something like this.

Not the fame. Not even the room.

Just... something to show for myself.

Something I could point to and say, "Hey, Dad, I did this. Aren’t you proud of me?"

Something that could make my dad proud. Something to show I wasn’t just the girl who cleaned rich people’s bathtubs and ran from naked jerks in mansions.

But all I had was a mop and some broken dreams.

I looked down at my gloves. Scratched. Dusty.

No wonder Ian walked around like the world owed him gratitude. His whole bloodline was practically dipped in diamonds.

Me? I still lived in a one-bedroom with peeling walls and a dad who worked double shifts to keep my scholarship afloat.

Still... I inhaled sharply, straightened my back, and grabbed my cloth.

"Okay, June," I whispered. "Let’s make this place sparkle."

Because even if this wasn’t my life, it was still a life I could touch.

And maybe, one day... I’d build something beautiful of my own.

I sighed, and got to work. I carefully rearranged and cleaned the perfume bottles shaped like roses and designer clothes that probably cost more than my tuition.

That’s when the floor creaked.

I turned around.

"I’m almost done sir," I muttered, expecting the butler again.

But it wasn’t the butler.

It was Ian.

Shirtless. Again.

"Oh God, not you again," I said, groaning and shielding my face. "Do you have a medical condition that prevents you from wearing a shirt?"

He smirked. "You’re in my sister’s room, Germ Girl. I’m just checking to make sure you’re not stealing her tiaras."

"Believe me," I snapped. "IfI wanted to steal something from you, it’d be your ego. I’d sell it and retire early."