Your Girlfriend Calls Me Daddy-Chapter 19 | My Stalker is the Class Rep

The voice came from behind me.

Loud.

Commanding.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

I turned around.

Cheon Hae-Won stood twenty feet away with her hands on her hips, her light blue hair catching the afternoon light like a goddamn anime character.

She’d struck a pose.

Full superhero landing stance with one foot forward and her chin tilted up.

Is she serious right now?

Her grey eyes blazed with righteous fury.

"You forgot our prior engagement!"

I blinked.

"Our what?"

"I told you I would give you a tour of the campus after classes ended! You agreed!"

Oh.

Right.

The uptight class rep thing.

Completely slipped my mind.

I shrugged.

"My bad. Got busy."

Her face went red.

Not the cute flustered pink from earlier.

Full crimson rage.

"Busy? BUSY? I waited for thirty minutes outside Building A and you never showed up! Do you have any idea how inconsiderate that is?"

"Sounds like you wasted your own time."

Wrong thing to say.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"Wasted my time? I was doing you a favor! You’re the transfer student who doesn’t know where anything is!"

"Found the support department just fine without you."

"That’s not the point!"

I tilted my head.

"Then what is the point, Panda?"

"Panda? What are you even—" She stopped mid-sentence. Her entire expression changed as understanding arrived. "Oh no."

"Your underwear."

The color drained from her face completely.

Then it came roaring back.

"You—that was—I can’t believe you would—how dare you—"

I crossed my arms and waited for the system to come back online.

"If you were so committed to this tour," I said when she finally stopped sputtering, "why’d you hide behind a pillar and spy on me instead of just saying something?"

She went completely still.

Her mouth opened.

Closed.

Opened again like a fish trying to figure out what air was.

Got her.

"I wasn’t spying!"

"Really looked like spying."

"I was observing!"

"Same thing."

"It’s not the same thing at all!" Her voice went up half an octave. "Observing is a professional assessment of situational dynamics!"

"That’s a lot of words for stalking."

"I don’t stalk!"

"You hid behind a stone column to watch me walk across campus."

"I was being considerate!"

I took a step forward.

She held her ground but her whole posture changed. Shoulders tight. Weight shifting backward just slightly. The instinctive body language of someone who wanted to retreat but refused to let themselves.

I stopped about three feet away. Close enough that she had to tilt her head up to maintain eye contact. Close enough that VIRGIN KILLER’s radius covered her completely.

"So what were you observing, Panda Panty Stalker?"

"Stop calling me that!"

"Make me."

Her fists shook.

For a second I thought she might actually swing.

Instead she took a deep breath and straightened her posture, forcing herself back into that rigid class representative composure.

"I simply didn’t want to interfere with your d-date."

She stumbled over the word like it physically hurt to say.

I raised an eyebrow.

"My date."

"Yes. With that girl. The one with the red skin."

Mera.

She thinks Mera and I are dating.

Interesting.

"What makes you think that was a date?"

"You left campus together during lunch. You were walking very close. She was smiling."

"You’re not making your case better Panda Panty Stalker."

Her cheeks flushed again but she didn’t back down.

"It’s my responsibility as class representative to be aware of student activities."

"That’s a fancy way of saying you were watching me."

"I was not watching you specifically! I happened to notice because you’re new and therefore my responsibility until you’re properly integrated into the class structure!"

She’s really committed to this excuse.

It’s almost cute.

I leaned back against the wall behind me.

"Alright. So you were too polite to interrupt my date. Got it. Anything else you want to yell at me about or can I go?"

She straightened even more, which I didn’t think was physically possible.

"I wasn’t yelling."

"You were definitely yelling."

"I was projecting my voice to ensure you heard me clearly!"

"Same thing."

"It is not the same thing!"

A group of students walked past us on the path, their conversation dying as they glanced over.

Cheon noticed immediately.

Her posture changed completely. "This is inappropriate. We’re causing a scene."

"You’re causing a scene. I’m just standing here."

Her eye twitched. Small. Fast. Just the left one.

"You are the most infuriating person I have ever met."

"Heard that before."

She took another breath.

When she spoke again her tone had returned to that clipped professional register she probably practiced in front of a mirror.

"Since you clearly don’t require a campus tour any longer I’ll consider my obligation to you fulfilled. However, you still need to submit your uniform request to the administrative office by end of day tomorrow or you’ll receive a formal demerit on your student record."

"Already handled it."

"You did?"

"Professor Reeves told me. Went to the support department right after class. Got measured. Uniform’s being made."

She blinked. Once. Twice.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

"Well. Good. That’s one less administrative matter I need to follow up on."

"Great. We done here?"

She looked like she wanted to say something else. Her mouth opened slightly. I could see the thought forming behind those sharp gray eyes. The moment where she was deciding whether whatever she’d just thought of was worth saying out loud.

Then her mouth closed.

Then she just nodded once. Sharp. Formal. The kind of nod you’d give a superior officer after receiving orders.

"Yes. We’re done."

She turned on her heel and walked away. Her posture could have been used as a reference diagram for perfect spinal alignment. Every step measured. Every movement controlled. The kind of walk that suggested she’d spent years being told exactly how a young lady from a respectable family should carry herself in public and had internalized every single word.

I watched her go. Watched that light blue ponytail swing with each precise step. Watched her turn the corner toward the main building without looking back once.

That girl has issues.

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