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foxymoxynoona · 10 months ago

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After the Applause (Ch. 7)

Header and linebreaks by @awrkives

Single Dad Jimin x Female OC

SUMMARY: Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

CW/tags: grief, prior loss of spouse/parent, comfort, explicit sex, secondhand embarrassment, sort of love triangle/web/rat's nest, fluff, cursing, dating apps, fuckboy friends, dancer Jimin, stubborn dad Jimin, stubborn pre-teen daughter, miscommunication, pining

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By Monday Sunnie was almost completely back to her normal exuberant self, but her round-the-clock caretaker Appa had simply ushered the illness from daughter to dad. He knew it for sure when walking her to school left him red-faced, breathless, and shivering. There was no use denying it, no choice except to call Hoseok and other staff to see who could cover his classes for at least today and tomorrow. The last thing he wanted to do was pass this onto his students, especially not with the recital rushing closer.

Besides, he could work on choreography for Taejoon’s idol group from home –that was a gig he didn’t want to pass off. He could really use the additional income this month. Rent was going up in two months and he’d been avoiding thinking about it because obviously he couldn’t upset their lives and move them somewhere cheaper. This was their home. It had been Subin’s home. He wouldn’t know where to hallucinate her in a new home where she’d never been before, as he did the whole afternoon he spent curled up on the couch, sweating through his fever.

Turned out he didn’t even have the energy to make himself tea, certainly not to choreograph a routine. Once again, Jimin had vastly overestimated himself.

At the last minute he realized he was not sure he could make the walk to get Sun-young. Shit! It was a short list of friends he felt comfortable asking for a favor like that: Hoseok was already covering his classes, Jungkook wasn’t answering his phone, but Taehyung did, on the second ring, like he’d been waiting for a call from Jimin. He was happy to get her but he had promised to go with Seokjin for something and could he just take Sun-young along with him for that? It sounded to Jimin like he’d said to greet the Muppets for the disco party but that was probably not right. The fever made everything fuzzy right now.

But whatever, Taehyung and Seokjin would never take her anywhere unsafe, so that was perfect. He called Sun-young’s school to have them give Sunnie the message Uncle Tae would pick her up and then collapsed on the couch and stopped thinking about anything. The fever was miserably uncomfortable. He didn’t have any adult medicine for it in the house; he prided himself on not getting sick often but damn it would have been welcome right now. Maye anti-nausea too, his stomach cramped and complained even though he wasn’t hungry.

The whole afternoon passed in a blink. He didn’t realize he’d even fallen asleep and suddenly Sun-young’s feet were pounding down the hallway. She knew the code and let herself in, Taehyung and Seokjin right on her heels.

Seokjin called from the hall, “No offense, Jimin, but I’m keeping my distance. I can’t get a restaurant of people sick!”

“I could use a few days off work,” Taehyung joked. “Lay one on me.”

Jimin only grunted at him and eased himself up to a sitting position. Sun-young grimaced.

“You’re really sick, Appa.”

“Wonder how that happened,” Taehyung teased and nudged Sun-young. But she looked genuinely upset, and that last thing Jimin wanted was for her to feel guilty. It was part of being a dad. He didn’t want her to hide that she was sick next time.

“It’s a testament to how close we are together,” Jimin insisted, the words a croak from his throat. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Thanks for keeping her this afternoon, Tae. Thanks, Jin.” He pushed up from the couch and did his best not to look wobbly. “OK, Sunnie, let’s figure out some dinner.”

“You sure you don’t want me to stick around and help?” Taehyung pressed.

“Nah, it’s fine, I’m good, just groggy because I’m waking up.”

“Ok… but hey man, call me if you need anything, ok? You know my schedule is flexible, I’m happy to help.”

Jimin thanked them both again and flinched when the door slammed shut behind them. The offers were sincere, he knew that, just like he rationally knew his friends did not mind covering his classes or helping him with his child. He had to believe that, because he knew he wouldn’t begrudge them the help. He loved to be helpful. But accepting help when he’d had to lean on them so much was hard. He didn’t feel like it was nearly balanced.

Belatedly he realized he should have asked Taehyung if he knew what was going on between Hanbyul and Jungkook. Taehyung was nosy, he probably knew exactly how long they’d been dating and how serious it was and where they met and the first time they kissed and everything.

Maybe it was better he hadn’t asked though. He didn’t know that he was in a good headspace right now to find out they’d been dating for months now and he was just dumb as a rock oblivious. Why wouldn’t Jungkook have told him? And honestly, wasn’t it right that Jungkook should have asked him first if he had feelings for Hanbyul before making his move? It was the right thing to do as friends.

“Appa are you ok?” Sunnie asked as he shuffled to the kitchen.

He waved his hand at her. “Yeah yeah, I’m good.”

But she planted herself in front of him and reached up to feel his sweaty forehead.

“You’re really sick, Appa. I know what it was like. Go lay down and I can make my own dinner.”

“You’re nine.”

“So what? I can make some things! Are you hungry? I can make something for you too.”

“I’m not hungry,” he admitted. He hesitated. If he insisted on cooking for her, was this just another way in which he was failing to recognize that she was growing up and gaining independence? Or was this leaning on his daughter in an unhealthy way, expecting her to be another adult in the house?

“We have gimbap, I can eat that. Go sleep. I’ll do my homework after I eat.”

“Ok…” He hesitated. This felt like a parenting failure. “Just get me if you need anything… I’ll just be in my room. You won’t be bothering me.”

Sun-young gave him a serious, decisive node and then pointed her finger towards his bedroom. He’d been summarily dismissed. It made him laugh, which turned into an achy coughing fit, so he did what she said and went to lie down.

Time passed unmeasured, but eventually Jimin rose from his deep sleep to the sounds of murmuring female voices and clinking cookware. For a brief moment, he found himself lost in time to years ago, when his wife might be in the kitchen cooking dinner. Especially after Sun-young was born, they’d alternated day-night shifts since their newborn daughter demanded attention round the clock; she’d been a terrible sleeper. He’d usually taken the night shift because he liked it anyway.

Just as quickly he landed back in the present time. He tried to push quickly and clumsily from the bed to find out who the hell was in his apartment with his daughter, when he heard a laugh that answered for him.

Hanbyul was here.

He slowed his step and glanced at himself in the mirror over his dresser. He looked fucked up. There was only so much he could do about it though, the sweaty pink shine wasn’t going away until the cold did. He brushed his fingers through his hair, trying to look devilishly disheveled. He was not sure that it worked. He changed his clothes quickly so at least he wouldn’t smell like stale sweat.

He pulled on his best smile as he leaned against the counter separating kitchen from dining and living room. Sun-young stood on a chair and peered through the lid of a deep pot. Hanbyul stood at the counter beside her with her loose sweater sleeves rolled up past her elbows, knife making quick work of an onion. Her hair was pulled up into a spiky high bun, a few wispy strands escaping to frame her face. Her eyes were red from the onions when she glanced up at Jimin. And smiled.

“Appa! How do you feel?” Sun-young asked very seriously again, her laughter from a moment ago deftly suppressed.

“I’m..” He wanted to say good but he didn’t want Hanbyul to take his appearance as normal. “I’ve been better,” he admitted. “But better since this morning… I think…” The scent of the onions tickled his nose and he turned quickly away to sneeze into his elbow. Suddenly Hudu leapt down from the couch and vaulted over to Jimin, jumping up against his legs, like he’d been sleeping too deeply to notice Jimin was even there.

“We’re making samgyetang,” Hanbyul assured him, as if he couldn’t have figured that out by the gingery smell of the broth. His nose was too stuffy to have caught it from the bedroom, but when Hanbyul lifted the lid on the pot so she and Sun-young could look inside, just enough of it managed to reach his sinuses for him to groan. He had no appetite but for that, he could develop one.

Hanbyul’s raised eyebrows made embarrassment rush through him.

“Oh, uh, it smells good. My nose is all f– messed up, but I could smell that– why are you here?” His voice cracked on the last note after croaking out the rest of it. Quickly he added, “You’re always welcome but we’re sick! I don’t want to get you sick too.”

Hanbyul shared a smile with Sun-young, as if they’d predicted and discussed this response. Jimin tried to crouch to pet Hudu, still spinning around his legs, but his body was too achy. He tried to get Hudu to jump up into his arms, but the dog wouldn’t. A stalemate in which neither of them was happy.

“I appreciate your concern but I think I’ll be all right. I have such a strong immune system, I rarely get sick. Don’t worry about me.”

“I asked her to come help me make soup for you,” Sun-young added.

“I see but– it’s very thoughtful but–” He spun quickly away to deliver a coughing fit into his elbow. Hudu was worried enough to scratch at his shin.

It meant he didn’t see Hanbyul come around from the kitchen until she touched his arm and held out a mug of steaming yuzu jelly tea.

“Please go rest more. Sun-young and I are just fine here.”

“She taught me how to mince garlic!”

“With a knife?!” Jimin cried, barely more than a wheeze of words.

Hanbyul tutted at him –tutted– “She’s old enough to learn how to safely cook things! I was much younger and still have all my fingers. Now back to bed, and make sure to drink that tea.”

She was so firm about it, he found his legs obeying. He stopped just through the door though and looked back. Hanbyul slid back around the counter and looked at whatever Sun-young was showing her on the counter. He knew that hopeful smile of Sunnie’s, that desperate need for acknowledgement. She beamed at Hanbyul’s praise for whatever it was. Together they lifted the lid and slid things in, four hands working together, and put the lid back on. The pot belched at them though, knocking the top askew. Both girls erupted with giggles as Hanbyul stirred and replaced the lid. Hudu sat in the middle of the rooms, as if he needed to see everyone at once. He watched Jimin and something in his eye made it look like he was about to bark and tattle on Jimin for not being in bed yet.

She shouldn’t be here. She didn’t need to be here. It was asking too much, for her to come into a sick apartment and make soup for him. Sunnie had done the asking and Hanbyul had come and he owed her so much.

Hudu barked.

“Go to bed, Park Jimin!” Hanbyul called, and Sunnie giggled and pointed, chanting, “Go go! We’ll get you when it’s ready!”

“Traitor,” Jimin mumbled to Hudu. Hudu stretched out to nap, conscience clear.

He lay in bed, as ordered. He sat up to sip the tea until only the dredges were left. He lay back down and listened to the crescendo of giggles across the apartment. They wove through his dozy dreams, swaddling him, rocking him in the rhythm of their conversation. He dreamed of seashell wind chimes on the balcony of a beachside bungalow; he dreamed of a crackling fireplace in front of three mugs of hot cocoa; he dreamed of a cool breeze caressing his skin with whispers: dance on, dance on.

He awoke to silence. The window was black with night, only by the light from the hallway could he find his phone in the sheets: 8:30. Time to get Hanbyul ready for bed. His body ached as he pushed himself up from the sweaty embrace of his bed. He felt like garbage, but slightly warmed over garbage, thanks to his nap-companion Hudu, who had jumped up into bed with him at some point. Garbage that could at least get his daughter’s school things ready for tomorrow, see her to bed, shower, and then collapse again. Maybe eat some soup, if there was any left.

He forgot to check his hair and face as he stumbled into the hall. Two figures sitting at the end of it made him do a double take. It wasn’t the ghost of Subin, though, and he wasn’t confused by a memory this time, only confused to see them there: Sun-young and Hanbyul kneeling in front of the shrine they kept for Subin by the narrow window she had always joked was for growing a single flower in. So they did grow a single flower in it, though Jimin often forgot to water it so it tended to be more dead than alive.

He paused as Sun-young’s voice carried, “Sometimes I don’t remember very much about her.”

Hanbyul made a sympathetic humming noise.

“I was only maybe six years old when she died? I just remember suddenly she lived in the hospital and Appa took me there to visit her and I didn’t like being there because it smelled bad and everyone was sad a lot.”

“It’s ok not to remember everything,” Hanbyul said gently. “You were very little and sometimes remembering someone we’ve lost can hurt a lot, I think, so our minds… hm, maybe they wrap a blanket around the memory to keep it safe for another time when it won’t hurt so much.”

“Maybe that’s why Appa doesn’t talk about her very much,” Sun-young said and Jimin felt a knife in his ribs. “It makes him really sad.” Jimin felt like they did talk about her a lot. Wasn’t Subin in almost everything they said and did? But less so lately, and that was… hard.

“I can’t imagine how hard it is to lose someone you love that much. You both are very strong. I’m glad you have each other.”

He knew he shouldn’t keep listening to this and yet he couldn't tear himself away. Was it really so bad to eavesdrop? He decided Sun-young was right; despite the shrine, they did not talk about Subin very often. He always feared speaking of her would only remind Sunnie of what she lost, what she didn’t have. It sure did for Jimin.

“I remember her hair was really soft and I would wrap it around my fingers when we read books together,” Sun-young said. “I just learned to read when she got sick and I read books to her in the hospital. She liked Hello Banana Moon and Cloud Bread. Do you know those books?”

“I don’t.”

“I think I still have them. I’ll let you borrow them so you can read them. They're really good but I haven’t read them in a long time. Maybe we can read them together.”

“I’d like that a lot,” Hanbyul said and Jimin could feel her smile even though he saw only the back of her head. The girls sat so close together, Subin’s smiling face beaming down at them from the shrine. He knew where those two books were: tucked into the cupboard beneath the candles and figurines and Subin’s photos. He’d tucked them there when she died because it was too much to read the words to Sun-young that ought to be in Subin’s voice.

But Sun-young wanted to share those stories her mother had taught her to read with Hanbyul.

The emotion was difficult to breathe around, a pair of fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, a rising tide blocking his throat.

“I don’t remember much,” Hanbyul said. “I didn’t know your eomma very well but I would see her in the hall or the mail room. She was always very polite and thoughtful. She would hold the door open if my arms were full. If someone left trash out, she would take on the task of cleaning it up, even though it wasn’t hers. One year there was ice on the stairs and our neighbor Ma Gurim who is high in years nearly slipped. Your mother called the building manager and wouldn’t stop calling until they came out to take care of the ice.”

Sun-young giggled and said, “Appa says I have her stubbornness.”

“Her resilience, I think it is. Her brightness. She seemed like she could do anything, just like you.”

“It’s not very fair that she died.”

“No, Sun-young. It’s really, really not fair.”

Sun-young let out a heavy sigh and rested her head against Hanbyul’s shoulder. If it made Hanbyul uncomfortable, Jimin couldn’t tell from her body language. After a moment she wrapped her arm around the girl’s shoulder and rubbed her arm.

Jimin didn’t want to disturb them. He felt like he would be. Anyway, he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t have said anything better than Hanbyul had and her words lingered with him as he tiptoed away to the kitchen.

It was too much to ask of a woman, wasn’t it? To come into a house that had lost one and take over being a partner and a mother. Not that it mattered anyway because Hanbyul was seeing Jungkook now but… well, it would have been too much to ask of her and that’s why it was for the best. Probably she felt incredibly awkward talking to Sun-young about her dead mother because it was an uncomfortable topic and while obviously she had navigated it beautifully, it was too much to ask.

The kitchen had been cleaned so thoroughly there was no evidence of cooking. He opened the fridge with a start in his heart that maybe they had eaten all the soup and left none for him.

“What are you doing?” Hanbyul demanded behind him. “Shoo, get out of my kitchen! Go sit down.”

“It’s my kitchen,” he glowered, and playfully demanded, “Where’s my soup?”

She squeezed behind him and bodied him away to open the oven door where a stone bowl of the soup rested, still warm. The scent of it carried such a strong sense of strength and health and rest that it nearly brought tears to his eyes. That’s it, that’s the only reason his eyes were misty.

“I’ll carry it for you, go sit.”

“It’s time for Sun-young to get ready for–”

“I know, Appa, I’m already in my pajamas. I just need to brush my teeth,” Sun-young glowered just like him, arms crossed at his doubt. “I’ll make you tea and then go right to bed.”

“We have to get your backpack ready–”

“We did that,” Hanbyul assured him. “She wants to eat school lunch tomorrow or I said I would pack her one.”

“Unnie even ironed my uniform,” Sun-young added.

Hanbyul looked embarrassed by that and clarified, “With you both sick lately they just sat in the laundry basket for too long. Sunnie told me about her fundraiser and demonstrations.”

“Appa, can unnie help us make the rice cakes? We can teach her how to make them really nice. I know Appa isn’t a good cook but he really knows how to make the best rice cakes.”

Jimin felt like he was wrapped up in a whirlwind between them as he dove into the soup Hanbyul placed before him. They’d carried on all evening without him, and Hanbyul even had Sun-young ready for the day tomorrow. He didn’t have to worry about a thing.

“I can walk Sunnie to school too, if that’s helpful,” Hanbyul offered.

Jimin shook his head and argued, “It’s not the direction of your office.”

“You know that?” Hanbyul asked, surprised.

“I see the direction you walk, it’s not mysterious.”

She grinned and insisted, “It’s not too far out of the way though. I’ll just make my coffee at home before I go instead of stopping by the cafe. It’s better for my wallet anyway.”

“I’m sure I’ll be better by the morning.”

Sun-young put her hands on her hips and said to Habyul, “I think both my parents are stubborn.”

“There was no other way you could be,” Hanbyul nodded and it made Sun-young giggle. “It’s a good thing.”

“Is it?” Jimin teased.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that and go brush my teeth,” Sunnie said and stuck her tongue out at him.

How strange to feel like a cared-for guest in his own home. Hudu had moved to the living room since Jimin left the bed and stretched out in a new nap across Jimin’s slippers, several of his toys strewn across the rug. The TV was off but low music played through the speakers.

“I’ll turn that off,” Hanbyul realized, heading for it. “Sunnie was trying to teach me to dance.”

��You seemed to do fine at the club.”

Immediately she covered her face and sighed, “Let’s never talk about that again.”

“No problem,” Jimin said and meant it. He’d like if they could never talk about him going to check on her the next morning and Jungkook opening the door as well.

While he slurped the soup and Hanbyul fiddled with the CD player and Sun-young sang loudly to herself in the bathroom as the water ran and Hudu decided to take a break from napping and work the squeaker out of his toy, Jimin got a very foreign feeling: wholeness. He felt like he was home. He was home, but he felt like it quite suddenly, like he rarely had done since the very first day he’d come home while Subin remained in hospital.

Sun-young threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek and bid him goodnight. Hanbyul followed her to say goodnight and turn the light off and for a moment Jimin almost told them where the storybooks were, but couldn’t quite bring himself to it. It felt dangerous to, like if he offered her one more step further into their lives, he’d never be able to let her go.

Could she really co-exist with the memory of Subin? Was Sun-young really ok with that?

How could it seem so natural to watch her turn the bathroom light off and take Sunnie a glass of water and then scoop Hudu up for a snuggle. She ought to collapse onto the couch in exhaustion after an evening of parenting. And Jimin would collapse next to her, and drag her into his lap so they could stretch out and find something worthwhile to watch on the TV. She’d fall asleep there and he’d wake her gently later to move to–

Shit, he had to stop thinking like this. He had to. It was becoming too tragic to pine for his neighbor too late. He’d fucked up and only his fever-riddled brain was willing to admit how badly. Very badly. As she carried Hudu with her to sit in the chair next to him, Jimin had the unfortunate understanding that he might be very much in love with Hanbyul and been trying to hide it from himself.

I never know what I’m doing but you make me feel like I can figure it out. I think you belong here. Why don’t you just stay?

“I’m sorry if I massively overstepped tonight,” she said, completely at odds with his internal tragedy.

“No. No, of course not. You can’t overstep but you didn’t have to do all this–” He broke off to cough into his elbow –away from her. If he got her sick, he’d never get over the guilt.

“I’ve told you before, it’s not a big deal. I love spending time with Sun-young and I’m glad you were able to get some rest. I’m serious about walking her to school in the morning too, unless you’d rather have one of your other friends.”

“I’m sorry if she made you uncomfortable talking about… Subin.”

Hanbyul’s sincere confusion was so endearing that he felt a twinge of guilt, saying Subin’s name just as he thought damn, Hanbyul really is pretty, isn’t she? It’s crazy she never went into acting or modeling.

“Why would that make me uncomfortable?” Hanbyul asked. “I’m flattered she felt like telling me about her mother. She’s a part of you and Sun-young forever. It’s unfair she can’t be here to take care of you while you’re sick and take care of Sun-young, but I hope I honored her by stepping in for an evening.”

Jimin nodded, briefly without words.

Hanbyul gently touched the back of his hand and added, “I’m truly sorry for your loss, Jimin. I don’t know if I ever said that.”

“You did.”

“Well, good. And please don’t think you or Sun-young are ever a burden when you need help. No one is meant to do everything alone and–” She broke off as he suddenly flipped his hand, catching her palms against his. “--and I’m really happy to be here,” she said, barely a murmur as she stared at their hands. Jimin too, unsure how that had happened. It had been impulsive. It was the wrong move.

He drew in a deep, ragged breath and she pulled her hand away. He shouldn’t have. She was dating his friend. He couldn’t say he regretted it. He should have wound their fingers together, kept her there.

But what would he say? I care about you more. Quit Jungkook and be with me. I’m sorry I was slow but it’s scary, you see? I didn’t think I could do this again…

He pushed back from the table and she leapt up as Hudu jumped down from her lap. She reached for the dishes but Jimin shooed her away.

“I can manage them.”

The fact she didn’t argue seemed telling. She gathered Hudu’s things into her bag and slid her phone into her pocket and Jimin felt an absolute dread that she was leaving. He knew he’d overstepped with the touch. She had to think so, because it had felt insanely intimate to him, just that moment of their palms touching. Her cheeks flushed and he feared it was with anger.

He started to say he was sorry, but Hanbyul spoke over him with a smile that seemed sincere, “I’ll come by to get Sun-young at 7:30. Don’t argue about it, please. I told her I would so it’s very important to me that I keep my word.”

“All right then. Thank you. Goodnight, Hudu,” he said, scratching the dog’s head. “Goodnight, Hanbyul.”

“Goodnight.”

It felt awkward. He felt it. He’d made her feel awkward, and after all she’d done for him. But he didn’t know what to say to fix it, and he already felt like shit anyway, so this one time he kept his mouth shut and just locked the door behind her.

The apartment felt empty with her gone, just him and sleeping Sun-young left, like the movie had ended and there just credits rolling. There wasn’t even music playing anymore.

Jimin knew he ought to get back to his apartment quickly. It was bad enough he’d had to call in another favor, but it was only fair he cover Hoseok’s classes now that he was sick, and Sun-young had science club, and sometimes things just seemed impossible for a single parent.

But walking past the corner florist made him pause. And think. And think. He was a thinker, a planner, he shouldn’t do things impulsively because then things could go wrong and you weren’t prepared.

But things went wrong even if you carefully planned. Time was unknown and unsympathetic and always running out.

The apartment had just felt so empty without her in it, the chair she’d sat in pulled out as if still waiting for her to take her seat again. He felt like he was waiting for Hanbyul to get home from work. One evening wasn’t enough.

Was it worth the risk of losing a friendship over? Two friendships?

Park Jimin did something he never did: he let impulse take over.

He bought the flowers, a big pretty bouquet of purple and pink and white because they looked like stars and that was her name. Hanyul: Big Star.

He ignored the mailroom for now, because he was on a mission. He was going to shoot his shot. If it caused a rift with Jungkook… hopefully it could be mended. Probably it would cause only a rift between himself and Hanbyul because she’d be gracious about his unwelcome feelings and then he would lose something that was devastating him to have so little of anyway.

“Hold the elevator!” Jungkook called and dove inside.

For a moment they looked at each other, and then Jungkook’s face broke into a wide grin and he asked, “Who are the flowers for?”

“Sunnie.”

“Ah. Right.”

They’d forgotten to push the button, so Jungkook did.

“You here to see Hanbyul?” Jimin asked, wishing it wasn’t true.

“Yeah.”

“Ah.” Silence as the elevator shimmied to life. “So uh… that. How did that happen? Is it serious?”

“Is what serious?”

Leave it to Jungkook to make Jimin spell it out, the ass: “You and Hanbyul.”

“We’ve got a real connection. Why do you ask? You in love with her or something?”

Thank fuck for his careful control of his face.

Jimin gave him a playful grin and assured him, “No, no, I’m just looking out for her. I’m just asking if you’re serious about her.”

“You should fight me for her,” Jungkook grinned back.

Jimin’s expression twitched as he said, “I’m not… I’m not fighting you for her.” Gone was his foolish plan to sweep her out from under Jungkook.

Fuck, what an awful choice of words.

“Well not physically, I’d beat your ass,” Jungkook laughed. “I mean confessionally.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Are you at least going to give her a choice? I mean, I’m pretty serious competition, it’d be pretty hard for anyone to– but hey, maybe it’s your lucky day,” Jungkook said and slapped him on the shoulder.

“A choice… between us?” Jimin’s heart leapt into his throat with hope. Probably Jungkook was just fucking with him, but if he was actual casual enough to give Hanbyul a no-strings choice… well, would she really choose the single dad over hot young bachelor Jungkook… but… but maybe Sunnie could help him make a powerpoint and she’d find it charming…

Jungkook sighed, “You don’t like that idea? That sucks. Listen, don’t break her heart or anything, ok? She’s a really good friend of mine and–”

“No, stop, that’s what I was going to say!” Jimin forced a laugh, stepping off the elevator after him. “I just wanted to say I’m happy for you and that I–”

“Well I’m not dating her but maybe you should before someone else does, if you’re so bothered by it.”

Before Jimin could fathom a response, Jungkook pushed the buzzer at Hanbyul’s door.

“What, what do you mean you’re not–”

The door dragged open to reveal Hanbyul –in shortie shorts and a t shirt with a faded Minnie Mouse on it and stripey flower socks. Her expression shifted at once from neutral to surprise as she stared at Jimin.

Jungkook plucked a phone charger from her hand.

“Hey Hanbyul, thanks, Jimin’s got something to say to you, bye.”

He promptly turned and walked back towards the elevator.

“Uh…”

It took Hanbyul half a minute longer than it should have to realize Jungkook had retrieved his abandoned phone charger and departed. Her attention remained leveled at Jimin’s face in an attempt to not die of embarrassment: she’d just woken up from a gloriously braless and pantsless nap to a message from Jungkook saying by process of elimination he thought he’d left his phone charger at her place and was on his way over. Her offer to leave it at Jimin’s was too late; he never responded and she had time to do nothing but drag on shorts before the buzzer at her door revealed Jungkook.

And Jimin.

He looked so much healthier after his illness –thanks in part, she hoped, to the soup. He looked even better since she’d seen him, when she picked up Sun-young and walked her to school before peeling off to haul ass to work.

And then Hanbyul spent the next two days avoiding the Parks because she wanted it too much. It brought her too much happiness to be over there, doing simple domestic things with them like that. It was torture not to kiss Jimin’s flushed forehead and brush his hair back and really take care of him. It was unkind to herself and possibly to Sun-young to let herself get so close to the little girl who did not deserve to lose anyone else from her life.

The recruiter had contacted her via email and wanted to schedule an official interview; he promised to call her soon. Hanbyul had done a freaking out dance around the apartment. Then whipped her bra off and fallen into bed for a stress nap.

And now Jimin was standing at her door, seeing her in this disheveled space, holding out a bouquet of beautiful purple flowers. She did not understand and only took them because he seemed to want her to hold them for him.

“They’re for you,” he explained, as if she was an idiot (she was.) “To thank you.”

“Jimin, I told you, you have to stop thanking me. I’m going to start taking it as an insult.”

“Wha?”

“You didn’t have to get me flowers. But they’re beautiful, so thank you.” She loved how gracious that sounded, as if she could be cool about getting flowers, as if it happened all the time (it didn’t.)

“They’re stars, like your name. I don’t know what they’re actually called,” he admitted, laughing at himself.

“Thank you, I’ll put them in water right away.” She stepped into the apartment, expecting that was goodbye, but Hudu foiled her plan, darting into Jimin’s arms –or maybe Jimin had already wedged his body in to follow her through. That brat (Hudu, but also maybe Jimin.)

“One second!” she called over her shoulder and disappeared into her bedroom to frantically drag on a sweatshirt. It was going to be weird if she completely changed, wouldn’t it? But she was so unkempt. Would it be weird to put on pants?

She was taking too long. She hurried back to find Jimin going through her cabinets, looking for a vase. The only one was a heavy crystal thing she had borrowed from her mother a year ago because her mother had been grievously disappointed the visit before that Hanbyul didn’t have flowers on her table.

“Perfect, right Hudu?” He tossed a smile down to the pup, and then over his shoulder at her, and she felt simultaneously like a queen and a bug. He looked like that, smiling at her when she looked like this. It didn’t make her feel better that he’d recently looked sick. He had been adorable.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she said.

“How are you? Not coming down with anything?”

Actually she’d had a slight headache all day and her throat felt scratchy that morning, but she wasn’t going to tell him that and make him feel guilty for accepting the help. It was probably nothing. A sudden onset of spring allergies or something.

“I’m good.”

She joined him at the counter but let him do the work of untying the bouquet, snipping the stems with her kitchen scissors and arranging them artfully in the vase.

“Wow, you’re really good at that.”

“I learned some arranging tricks when I was younger because it was cheaper to buy bulk flowers and make our own arrangements for performers than buying the bouquets.”

Her phone rang –a godawful thing because she never had the ringer on and didn’t even know what it was set to– and she gasped as she reached for it, but it was only her sister so she sent it to voicemail. She couldn’t risk missing this call!

“Ouch,” Jimin laughed. “Who deserved that?”

“My sister… I’ll call her back later.”

“Oh I don’t mean to stop you–”

“No, she’s calling to ask about–” Hanbyul broke off. Was this the sort of premature news one gave a neighbor-acquaintance-friend? “I might curse it,” she admitted.

Jimin raised an eyebrow but kept his gaze on the flowers he futzed with as he asked carefully, “Curse what? Not your um, relationship with Jungkook I hope?”

“I have a job interview– uh, wait, what relationship with Jungkook–?”

“A job interview! A new job? Or the promotion at your current place?”

“I don’t have a relationship with Jungkook,” she said. “A friendship, but that’s all.”

Jimin nodded and smiled. He pushed the vase towards the center of her counter and assured her, “It’s none of my business.”

“Why, did he tell you something else?”

“No, he said the same,” Jimin shrugged.

“When we went out clubbing he had too much to drink and crashed here. Apparently he takes a phone charger with him when he goes clubbing in case he goes home with someone.” Hanbyul shook her head. She couldn’t imagine leading that kind of life. He had only laughed at her advice: maybe stop having sex the same day you meet a woman if you want deep and lasting romance so badly! Then he’d asked how deep and lasting romance with Jimin was going and she had threatened to block him.

“That he does.”

“You met someone that night too,” Hanbyul recalled –in painstaking detail. She tried to be light as she teased, “Any exciting dating plans? Someone you met on the app?” She had on the exact same expression she knew she wore when trying to make bad news sound like good news at work to the higher ups.

He hissed through his teeth and admitted, “I haven’t even finished setting up my profile. And if you’re teasing me about who I think you are, she’s on the funding board for a scholarship group my dance school works with so I had to play nice. I didn’t realize you’d sneak away on me.”

“I didn’t sneak.”

“Hm.”

“I was way too drunk to be sneaking,” she admitted. “I don’t go out much like that.”

“Me neither.”

“It was fun though.”

“Would have been more fun if we’d actually gotten to dance,” Jimin said. Hanbyul could have sworn there was a note of longing to his voice.

“You don’t want to dance with me,” she assured him. “I can’t dance at all.”

“That’s ok.”

“No, I mean it. Your daughter suggested maybe I’d do better at yoga and asked if I understand what the beat of the music is.”

Jimin laughed and covered his eyes, “Oops. She’s a sharp-shooter sometimes… But no one is a lost cause. I saw you dancing at club and you did fine. Anyone can learn with a little help, I believe it.”

What were they talking about it again?

“Maybe next time. If there is a next time.”

“I hope there’s a next time,” Jimin said. He looked to the side in thought, then shook his head and admitted, “Honestly I was kicking myself. I don’t know why I hadn’t already introduced my friends to you. Of course you get along with all of them.”

“Why would you introduce your neighbor?” she laughed. Try to keep it light. This conversation felt strange for a reason she couldn’t quite put her thumb on. It felt serious, like an air of goodbye had settled around them in a haze.

She hadn’t even done the interview yet!

“You’re not just my neighbor,” Jimin corrected. “Ma Gurim is just my neighbor. You’re at least a close friend.”

“At least,” she immediately repeated.

He looked surprised by his own word choice, panicked almost, and clarified, “Not just anyone will come over and take care of me and my daughter when I’m sick.”

“Get over yourself, it’s not an inconvenience,” she teased to cover the way her heart fluttered high in her chest. At least a close friend.

“Get over myself,” he repeated with a laugh. “It’s true, I have an ego sometimes.” He ran his fingers through those blond locks.

Her phone rang. What timing! She wanted to follow that train of thought: what did he mean by ego? Why was he smiling like that? He wasn’t flirting with her, was he? He must still be sick.

But interview terror temporarily outweighed Jimin confusion, and she answered her phone before it could ring a third time. Jimin’s eyes got big and he shirked his shoulders as if he shared her excitement and didn’t leave.

The recruiter was straight-forward but polite on the phone. There was interest in her resume and application letter. They would like to meet her for an afternoon of interviews. There would be several rounds for this more senior position, she must understand the selection process was thorough to ensure a good fit, which date from a list of available would work for her? Did she have any professional references she could provide for contact?

Hanbyul flew around the kitchen but Jimin was the one to find the pen and paper for her. She rattled off two former colleagues she had already messaged about acting as references. She could make the date work –though it worried her, taking time off from her current job to interview, like they would know she was up to something and fire her, and then she might not get the new job, and have no job.

By the time she hung up, her heart was racing as if she’d been interviewed already. She hoped the man couldn’t tell over the phone.

“A new job,” Jimin said. “That’s… exciting.”

“It might be,” she agreed. “If I get it.”

“They’d be fucking crazy to snooze on you. Where is it? You didn’t say…”

“Oh, well the company has several branches. One is here but there’s also one near my parents, in the town I grew up in. My sister’s about to have her baby, you know, and–”

“Right, yes, I understand.” He was nodding a lot.

“So now I have an interview,” she breathed out.

“It can be hard to live away from family,” he continued. “I understand why you’d want to move back near them.”

Yes, there were plenty of reasons to go. She had told the recruiter her childhood hometown was her branch preference. It should be her branch preference. Her parents were getting up in years and she would want to know her sister’s baby. She’d set out for Seoul years ago and what did she really have to show for it? Hudu was not an anchor.

“What made you stay here instead of moving back to be near your parents?” she asked.

“Ah, it was a hard choice,” he admitted. “They wanted me to. Sometimes I’ve wondered if it was the right choice. But I have family here too, so does Sunnie. Subin’s parents are here and I didn’t want her to lose that connection with her mother’s family. But also Taehyung and Jungkook and Hoseok, Yoongi, everyone, they’re here. They’re my family too. We have a home, I have my dance school, Sunnie loves her school.”

“That all makes sense.”

“For a long time I wondered if I just stayed here because it’s where I was before… but this is my life. Everything, almost everyone I care about is here.”

Hanbyul was the one nodding a lot now. She looked at the pretty flowers Jimin had brought her, just to say thanks for doing a thing she wanted to do all the time. She knew with absolute clarity that she couldn’t go into a job interview without knowing once and for all whether she too had a family anchoring her here. For a moment the image of her with him felt so real she could reach out and touch it. She needed to know if the illusion would dissolve at the brush of her fingertips.

It was crazy to wonder. It was wistful thinking. She was crazy fucking delusional.

But she had to know for sure and if there was nothing, if she was completely imagining the flirting, if he just wasn’t ready or wasn’t interested in welcoming her specifically into his life well… well that was good to know.

“I don’t have a relationship with Jungkook,” she said, feeling like someone else was speaking the words. “But um, I did date Namjoon for a little bit.”

Jimin’s brow pinched in confusion as he repeated, “Namjoon? You already know Namjoon? When did you date–”

“Recently,” she admitted.

Jimin’s eyebrows raised before he said slowly, “Ohhhh. No, really? You’re the woman who… at the club, that’s why…”

“I guess that’s me.” She twisted her mouth, not sure what to say about Jimin knowing her by action. Why was she admitting this again?! “I, um… it wasn’t serious, at least I didn’t think so. It was nice, I mean he’s nice, he’s a good guy, but it just didn’t…” She gestured, wishing Jimin would finish the sentence for her and read her mind. Alas, he did not.

“You just ended it that day we went clubbing.”

“I’d been putting it off. I sort of didn’t know if there was even anything to end, I mean we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend or anything, we only went on a few dates really but– I admit, I didn’t handle it well, I should have called it off earlier. I didn’t know what to do because…”

She hated that she couldn’t read Jimin’s mind either. His expression was inscrutable.

“I have feelings for someone else,” she said and felt like a good ten years of her life drained away with the words leaping from her tongue. She didn’t feel in control of that tongue. “I thought it would be better to meet someone else and move past those feelings.” She swallowed and cleared her throat. Her nose was getting stuffy. “But it didn’t work and it wasn’t fair to Namjoon.”

“This someone else doesn’t return your feelings?”

She studied his face, desperate to tell if he understood what she was saying. She didn’t think she could be any more transparent, it would kill her. But she had to be. There wasn’t room for error and even though he was watching her so carefully right now, leaning forward, mouth open in that thoughtful pout he had, she couldn’t tell if he understood. She needed him to understand. She could be brave.

“No,” she admitted. “At least I don’t think so.”

“How could he not?” Even just that, even if he said or felt nothing else, Hanbyul felt warmed to her soul.

Her smile flickered as she tried to joke, “I know, I’m a catch! But I’m still honored just to be neighbor Han–” He stepped forward suddenly and caught her face, cutting her off with a kiss. His lips pressed to hers, the softest caress, softer than her wildest dreams. A second kiss followed, harder, more certain, but still unhurried, like he had all afternoon to spend dragging that plush lower lip of his against hers. He kissed the ten years back into her lungs and then some; she felt sunlight seep from his fingertips into her jaw. She was drowning in him.

“He does return your feelings, Hanbyul,” he murmured, their noses brushing. “He’s just an idiot.”

“He’s not an idiot,” she argued. “He’s… careful.”

“So careful he may have missed his chance.”

What a silly fear from a silly, silly man. She slid her hands slowly up his chest, curious and shy at the strong curve of muscle firm behind the fabric. His neck was so warm beneath her palms. It felt scandalous to touch him so much, to hold him so close, to feel his hands ghost down to her waist, his fingertips nudging her closer.

“It’s not too late at all,” she whispered. “Not unless…” Hudu’s cold nose poked her calf and she startled. Leave it to her dog to nose in on the most romantic moment of her life because he couldn’t stand whispering.

“Unless what?” Jimin asked cautiously, as he leaned away to look in her face. Hudu barked and Jimin’s serious expression cracked into a smile as Hudu leapt up and scratched at his thigh for attention. As if demanding ok now what about me, where’s my kiss?

God Jimin was even more beautiful up close, and now she knew what those lips felt like pressed to hers, and no words could do them justice. It didn’t seem real. Even his proximity didn’t seem real. It made her forget what she was saying until he threw a toy from the counter to distract Hudu and then pretended like they hadn’t had that interruption.

“Unless what?” he repeated.

“I just told you that I dated your friend. We, um, slept together….” Her face felt like it was on fire from the combination of kiss and confession. Double confession. Not the greatest combination of confessions.

Jimin actually rolled his eyes and sighed, “Yeah, I figured as much, I don’t need a play by play. But I kind of have a past too. I was married and she died. I have a daughter.”

“I know that.”

“And that’s not a dealbreaker for you?”

“No, of course not,” Hanbyul said, not understanding how it could be.

“Then why would your past be a dealbreaker for me?”

“Well, it’s a very recent past…”

He shook his head, grinning, his earring dangling, and laughed, “I don’t care.”

“Really?”

“I think people are lucky if they get one chance at happiness in life. If I get another chance… I’m not going to let anything get in the way of it. Definitely not jealousy about you dating someone else before me. I can only be mad at myself for waiting so long, right?”

The magnitude of what he’d said was not lost on her. Another chance at happiness. That was… big. Bigger than a little crush, certainly bigger than anything casual thing she and Namjoon had talked about. For Jimin to speak so openly and optimistically about a future with her only moments after kissing her…

She did it, she stole another kiss. She wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of her happiness, either.

Then she gasped and laughed into her hand, “God, the first time you kiss me and I’m dressed like this!”

“I like it,” he immediately argued. “It’s cute. You’re very cute dressed like this.”

“I was taking a nap waiting for that call–”

He brushed the hair tenderly back from her face and instantly silenced her. The self-deprecation died on her lips because he looked at her like that. His fondness was transparent. How could she not feel radiant? Surely he’d never looked at her like that before, she couldn’t have missed it. The light touch of his fingers sent a shiver down her spine. Park Jimin was a dangerous charmer and somehow she was the object of his affection.

Impossible.

“Hanbyul,” he said her name lowly.

“Mm-hm.”

“Your face is very warm.”

“I’m…” She trailed off and pouted that he would make her say it. “I’m flustered.”

“I think you have a fever.”

“No, I don’t…”

“Are you sure you feel well?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Really.” He pressed his cold hands to her cheeks and her forehead and her neck and she flinched, the muscles there stiff.

He narrowed his eyes at her and accused, “Did I get you sick and you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s probably just allergies.” She felt a jolt of worry. Would her being sick cause Jimin extraordinary distress because his wife had died?

He cradled her face. He looked at her so sweetly.

And ordered, “Get your buns to bed. It’s my turn to take your child for the evening. I’ll bring you stew.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry, I won’t cook it. I’ll order it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insisted. “And not just because I got you sick but because taking care of you isn’t a burden to me either. It’s what good neighbors do.”

“Jimin!”

He snickered and then kissed her again, as if he couldn’t believe they did that now either. She was completely cowed into obeying his order to bed. He cared about her. He wanted to take care of her. And also to tease her, what a brat! She adored him.

“We’ll talk more about this later,” he promised, brushing his nose against her forehead. “If you promise I’m not too late, I can be patient for a little bit longer.”

“Is this just a fever dream?” she murmured. Was Park Jimin really saying these things to her?! She felt like she’d hit her head and woken up in a drama.

“So you admit you have a fever.”

“No! Maybe… I’ll get my thermometer.”

She did. And Jimin brought over soup and kept Hudu, like he’d promised. And by the time Hanbyul had finished squealing over the phone at her sister –with very little space for her sister to contribute anything– her voice was shot and her nose was stuffed too much to even sniff her pretty flowers Jimin had brought her.

Did he really mean it, that he cared for her too? What did this mean for them? He hadn’t asked her out but said they would talk more later… Should she ask him out or wait for him to ask her out? Should she ask both of them out? Would Sun-young figure out something was off? Would it be upsetting for her? That child was crazy smart, she would definitely figure something out and ask Hanbyul on the spot and what was she supposed to say? I spiked a fever because your appa kissed me.

Being patient was hard. Harder than Jimin had anticipated. He had thought that kissing Hanbyul and admitting to her that he had feelings would bring him peace but instead it drove him fucking crazy because here they were hovering in this limbo space and she was sick. His fault! She’d cleared caught it taking care of him, and all he could do was take her soup and walk Hudu for her. It wasn’t nearly enough, not compared to how much she had done to take care of Sun-young. Definitely not as much as he wanted to do. He could see her shoulders ached with the fever; how badly he wanted to rub them for her. She was flushed and sweaty and he wanted to brush her hair back –in fact he did, but that felt like as much as he could do for now.

She’d confessed first. God, he respected her so much for that. He’d definitely been about to chicken out. In hindsight he appreciated Jungkook putting him on the spot, but it didn’t escape him that, secretly, if she hadn’t said it first, he might have run away. He wanted to be brave, he did, but he felt so hopelessly out of his depth here. He didn’t think he could be trying this again with anyone but her, only Hanbyul, because she would be patient if he fumbled a bit. He truly believed that.

But they hadn’t had a chance to talk again because she was sick and he had promised to be patient, and he didn’t want to pressure her in case she took it back, if he harassed her. It scared him for her to be sick. He would be inclined to hover. He didn’t want to scare her off already.

Because now that this door was open, maybe open, if Hanbyul meant what she said and hadn’t just been delirious with fever…

His heart raced every time he walked by Hanbyul’s door. When he buzzed to ask if Hudu wanted to go out again, he felt like a tongue-tied teenager again.

Sun-young seemed to just accept that they’d been taking Hudu on walks for the last two days as if it was something they’d always done. She held Hudu’s leash and led Jimin on a path around the park that was clearly familiar to her and Hudu both.

“This is where unnie goes when we walk,” Sun-young informed him as they set out on a bigger circle of the park. “We go to the cafe and she buys me hot chocolate.”

“Hudu goes in with you?”

“He’s a very good dog,” Sunnie assured him, which of course he knew. Jimin suggested they go, since she was clearly leading him there anyway, and listened with bemused interest as Sun-young told him facts she’d learned about dogs from a book at school, and how dogs were bred for jobs, and how she wondered what job Hudu was bred for.

“I think he’s a mutt,” Jimin said.

“That’s not very nice!”

“No, it’s not an insult. He just isn’t a purebred.”

“So?”

“No, I know, it’s not a bad thing,” Jimin insisted. “But purebreds are the dogs who were bred for a specific job. Mutts just… happened.” Because animals will be animals…

“Well I think Hudu would be very good at a job,” she said, and crouched down to scratch his ratty brown fur. “He can do anything he puts his mind to.” Hudu looked thrilled at her praise and nodded and licked the air in front of her, tail thumping against the pavement.

“Just like you.”

“That was cheesy,” she teased. “I wish Hudu was our dog.”

Jimin swallowed and nodded and casually suggested, “Well, he’s our good friend’s dog, so it’s kind of the same.”

“It’s not the same at all. If he was our dog he would live with us but right now we have to go all the way down the hall to see him.”

“Mm-hm,” Jimin hummed. Yeah, tell me about it. He knew it was too soon to talk to Sun-young about this thing that might be happening, that he might be going to date Hanbyul. He didn’t know what that meant, much less could he explain it to his daughter. It might mean nothing. Hanbyul might change her mind. They might go out on a few dates and she’d decide it wasn’t working. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, just because he was excited. Having a girlfriend wasn’t like adopting a dog, you didn’t just fill out some paperwork and they were yours forever.

“Appa why is your face all red?” Sunnie giggled. Yah, because I thought the word ‘girlfriend’ about Hanbyul. It was stupid to feel so giddy about it, like some deep slumbering part of him was creaking to life. They hadn’t even gone on a date yet. Hudu snipped at buds pushing through the ground in the flower beds lining the sidewalk and that was exactly how Jimin felt. He was waking up. Hanbyul made him feel like he was blossoming after a long, very hard winter.

“I’m just cold,” he muttered.

“It’s not cold at all,” she insisted, and did a little spin on the sidewalk. It killed him how graceful she was and turning her back on dance but it was her choice. OK. He was living with it. “Hey we should start planning the rice cakes you signed us up to make for the fundraiser, huh? Do you know what science demonstration you’re doing yet?”

“Not yet. Let’s get hot cocoa to warm you up,” Sunnie suggested. Jimin wondered if that was what Hanbyul usually said; the phrase struck him as odd coming from his nine year old daughter.

Hudu was pulling them that way too, so Jimin went along for it. She was right, it wasn’t that cold, it was actually very beautiful out this early April evening. Hanbyul liked winter but he knew she liked spring too, she would love walking in this right now, just as the cherry blossoms were reaching their peak. It was criminal she was stuck inside.

“Maybe if Hanbyul feels better this weekend we can see if she’ll go on a picnic with us to see the cherry blossoms,” he suggested.

“Because you just want her to cook for us?” Sunnie gave him a stern glare.

“What? No! I’ll cook.”

“You want to make her sick again?!”

“Hey!” he scowled, and pinched her cheek. She giggled and batted him away, but then grabbed his hand and wrestled with it before there was actually any space between them. He wrestled right back as they waited for the light and Hudu leapt around them, yipping like he was tattling. Jimin won by wrapping his arm around Sun-young and pulling her into his side for a stolen hug which she, breathlessly, conceded.

“Didn’t we go on picnics to see the cherry blossoms with Eomma when I was a baby?” Sun-young asked.

Jimin froze.

“We’ve gone other years,” he said slowly. Yes, it had been an annual tradition, as it was for most families. They’d missed the year after Subin died, because he couldn’t handle it. Maybe they’d missed the year after too? “Seokjin and Namjoon went with us last year.” He watched her as they waited, anxious about why she had thought of going with Subin and not with their other friends after he’d suggested it with Hanbyul. Had she already picked up on something special about Hanbyul going along, about his maybe budding relationship with Hanbyul? Was she already feeling like Hanbyul was encroaching on Subin’s place as her mother?

“Uncle Seokjin is a good cook too,” Sunnie mused. “If you invite him and unnie and Uncle Yoongi we can eat so much.”

Jimin laughed awkwardly.

How the fuck was he going to talk to Sun-young about Hanbyul? He ought to wait until things progressed with Hanbyul, until he was sure she was sure there was a future there. This could be deeply distressing for Sun-young, him starting to date. Especially someone Sun-young cared about so much. It could ruin her relationship with Hanbyul, she could lose another very important person in her life if it was too soon for her. The progress he’d made with Sun-young could be undone. This thing that he wanted so badly might be the worst possible thing for his daughter… He couldn’t do anything to hurt her… Maybe a counselor could help? He was selfish, he wanted it all, but he also genuinely believed Hanbyul would be so good for Sun-young. Fuck, was he getting ahead of himself? But they were a package, he couldn’t be with someone who wouldn’t be a positive force in his daughter’s life, who his daughter didn’t absolutely love–

“Appa aren’t we going to cross?” Sun-young sighed noisily and then laughed at him as he hurried to lead her and Hudu across before it changed. He was sweating now. Was it better to wait to say anything until he and Hanbyul had been dating a while or was Sun-young going to figure it out no matter how they tried to hide it and be hurt he’d tried? But she was a child. But what if she was mad. But obviously he couldn’t tell her something like this when nothing had even happened yet, and might even not happen if Hanbyul thought better of it before he managed to ask her out.

“Ok Hudu, be really good in here,” Jimin warned the dog, despite Sun-young insisting he knew how to behave –as if implying Jimin was the wild card here.

It was a cute little cafe, just a nice little local place, not too busy but busy enough to be a reputable place. A curved green awning hung over the door and there were cherry blossoms painted on the window. The decor was simple and clean, dark wood in the seating area and crisp white around the counters and coffee machines.

Sun-young marched right up to the line at the counter, Hudu’s leash tighter around her hand to hold him close, like she must have seen Hanbyul do. It was sweet, seeing this glimpse into what Hanbyul and his daughter did without him.

When it was their turn, the older woman at the counter smiled at Sun-young and asked, “Oh, you’re not with your eomma today?”

A jolt ran through Jimin. He was used to this –people questioning where his wife was, other mother’s asking to speak to Sun-young’s mother, teachers assuming Subin would be the one to volunteer for class things. But worse, he realized with a shock that the cafe woman thought Hanbyul was Sun-young’s mother. This preyed instantly on the fears he had just been living, as if the universe reached down to pluck them out of his brain and bring them into the real world.

“Oh, I–” Jimin began just as Sun-young chirped, “This is my appa! Can we get two hot cocoas?”

Jimin was stunned by the graceful way she evaded the question and only nodded along as Sun-young picked out two pastries as well, and then led him to a table by the window, explaining, “We like this table the best so we can watch people in the park.” Hudu curled up beneath Sun-young’s chair and waited patiently for her to pass down a spoon of whipped cream. She sang, “Who likes whipped cream? Who do? You do, Hudu!”

Jimin blew on his hot cocoa and tried to find the words.

“Um… Sunnie, you handled that very well,” Jimin eventually mustered. He watched her closely, waiting for any sign she was distressed at this reminder of the fact she didn’t have a mother, or confusion around Hanbyul’s role in her life.

Sun-young looked thoughtful before laughing, “I thought you meant giving Hudu whipped cream! You mean ordering our drinks? I was practicing what to say before we came in here because unnie orders for us but she tells me to order sometimes too.”

“No, I meant… the confusion from the woman about Hanbyul…”

“Oh that’s nothing. People think unnie is my eomma a lot,” Sun-young informed him. “Well, not a lot, but sometimes people in the park or here think that.” She looked at the ceiling thoughtfully a moment, licking whipped cream off her upper lip, then asked, “Are you mad I didn’t tell her the right thing? I usually tell people the right thing but if you tell someone who doesn’t really know you that your mom is dead, they feel really bad about it. I didn’t want to make the woman feel bad when she’s just being nice. She works here a lot and unnie always talks to her.”

Jimin curled his hands around the cup and insisted, “I’m not saying you have to say anything. I know exactly what you mean.”

“You do?”

“People don’t know how to respond when you say something sad, like that your eomma is gone. It’s thoughtful of you that you didn’t want to make her feel bad but it’s ok to correct them still, even if it makes them feel bad for a moment.”

“Oh. You wanted me to?”

“No, I mean that… I don’t want you to think you need to go along with something that makes you feel sad or bad just to not make the other person feel a little awkward,” he rephrased.

“It didn’t make me feel bad,” Sun-young said. She set her cup down and had a dollop of whipped cream on her nose which she tried to get off with her tongue before giving up and using the back of her hand before he could find a napkin. “She just doesn’t know me. Why?” Suddenly Sun-young looked worried. “You think it’s bad?”

“No no. You’re right that she doesn’t know you. I just meant it’s ok if it does make you feel sad, or if it bothers you for someone to think Hanbyul is your eomma and you want to correct them.”

Sun-young stretched her tongue out to get whipped cream off the edge of her cup before saying, “No, I don’t mind.” If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was far more interested in whipped cream than this conversation.

“No? Ok…”

“Sometimes she kind of acts like an eomma anyway,” Sun-young continued. “Like she does some things my real eomma would do if she was here.”

Every muscle in Jimin’s body clenched.

“Is that… ok?”

Sun-young couldn’t have looked more casual with her cheek on her hand as she scrunched her eyebrows and answered, “Yeah, why not? Then you don’t have to do everything.”

“I don’t mind doing everything.”

“You can’t do everything,” Sun-young insisted and gave him a look like he ought to know this. “It’s not that I like her more than you, you’re still my appa. But she’s a girl too and she does some things differently and I think it’s better having her around.”

“Yeah?”

“I get to see her so much lately, I mean until she got sick but you said it’s just a cold.” She gave him a quick look like a sudden fearful thought occurred to her.

“It’s just a cold,” he confirmed. “She got sick coming over when I was sick.”

“How did she get sick from you?”

“Hey that’s what happens with contagious colds,” he quickly insisted, afraid where her questions might lead her. “I didn’t do anything, that’s just how germs work. Just like it’s not your fault I got sick after you were sick. You’re into science, don’t you know about germs?”

“A little bit.” She began to rattle off things she knew about germs, peppering him with questions, so clearly unbothered by this entire conversation. Jimin felt himself start to thaw out. Surely it wouldn’t be that easy. It had only been a few years since Subin died. Sun-young’s feelings could change quickly if Hanbyul actually became a more official presence in her life. She was a little girl with such a little girl understanding of the world and relationships…

But she was growing up too. Maybe he was underestimating her. Again.

Once their pastries and hot cocoa were gone and Hudu was getting restless, Sun-young asked, “Maybe we should take a brownie home for unnie so she’s not sad we came here without her.”

“That’s a good idea. Do you know what she likes?”

“Definitely.” Sun-young made the selection, and the woman packed it up carefully, extending her sympathies when Jimin explained Hanbyul was sick. He didn’t fix the misconception earlier. It was wrong not to. He perpetuated a lie. He was pretending something, trying it on, something he didn’t have any right to yet.

He felt the twinge of discomfort in his heart. Were things moving too quickly? Was it too soon? He had promised to love Subin his whole life, and now here he was letting this cafe woman believe that Hanbyul was his wife, Sun-young’s mother, all the things that Subin had actually been.

But alongside it was this fresh, slightly raw, new feeling. Like maybe those clothes could fit in time. Not yet, it was foreign and uncertain and scary but… but maybe he could get used to it. If Hanbyul could be patient with him

He had a feeling she would be.

“Maybe you can get unnie flowers too,” Sun-young suggested as they passed a woman selling bouquets on the corner as they crossed back to the park.

“I gave her flowers just a couple days ago.”

“Really?”

“Uh… yeah, you know, to thank her for helping out so much while I was sick. But then she was sick so I don’t think she can even enjoy them. Her nose isn’t working.”

“Maybe you should just ask unnie out on a date again.”

Jimin thought for sure he’d misheard her. He tripped on the curb as Hudu leapt ahead, barking at a squirrel. Sun-young dropped the leash and cried out, but Hudu immediately stopped and trotted right back, waiting patiently for Sun-young to pick the leash up again.

“What did you say?” Jimin asked, clearing the cough from his throat.

“Don’t you like her?”

“Hanbyul-ssi?”

“Yes.” Sun-young looked up at him with her big dark eyes, waiting expectantly.

“Of course, what’s not to like about her?” he returned, trying to sound casual.

“I know, and I think she likes us too and you already took her flowers so… I think it’s backwards? But I don’t really know anything about dating. I think you take her to see a movie now,” Sun-young suggested. As if she was really scraping her knowledge here to help her poor old appa who didn’t know anything about dating.

“You… would be ok with that?”

“I guess you can see a grownup movie I’m not old enough to watch anyway.”

But Jimin desperately wanted this permission that chance and the strange wandering mind of his daughter had brought him, so he pressed, “You would be ok if I went on a date with Hanbyul? If I… if we spent more time with her?”

“I know what dating is,” Sun-young scoffed. “I know when we went to see Mango Crush it wasn’t even really a date because I was there so this time it can be just the two of you.” Jimin walked slowly, taking Hudu’s leash to pull him closer as some bicycles whizzed past and a bigger dog barked loudly. Hudu didn’t like it and stuck closer to Jiminn’s leg. He was thinking of what to say next.

Instead Sun-young asked, “Do you think it’s weird because it’s not eomma?”

“Weird isn’t the word I was thinking but… maybe. Do you think so?”

“No,” Sun-young said. He thought that was a strange answer and didn’t know whether to trust it.

“I miss your eomma every day,” he continued, “and I haven’t wanted to think about meeting someone new. No one can ever replace your eomma. She loved you so much. I loved her so much.”

“I know that.”

“So I just want to be careful. I don’t want to do anything that makes you and me sad. It’s hard to lose your eomma. It was hard for me to lose my wife.”

Sun-young pursed her lips in thought and it broke his heart, having such an adult conversation with a little girl. It was wrong what he’d said before. She didn’t have a little girl view of the world; she’d had to grow up very quickly in some ways. He just wanted to protect what little girl remained.

“I miss Eomma too, I wish she didn’t die. But I like doing things with unnie too. Is that ok?”

“It’s definitely ok.”

“Then why is it weird?”

“Just… because… I don’t know. Maybe it’s not weird,” he admitted because he didn’t know how to explain his complicated feelings and maybe he didn’t need to. If Sun-young didn’t have a hard time holding both Subin and Hanbyul in her heart, maybe he didn’t need to make it weird for her. If her feelings changed, if she felt different lately, well, they would work through that then.

“Yeah, don’t make it weird, Appa, and don’t try to be funny and confuse her so she doesn’t know you’re asking her out. Unnie says when you are communicating something important, you have to be firm and clear and believe in yourself.”

“Are you… giving me advice on how to ask her out?”

“Yes!”

Jimin glared and assured her, “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out. I’ve done this before.”

“With eomma? But that was so long ago.”

“Hey!”

“When we get home you can take Hudu and the brownie and I’ll run to our apartment so you have privacy,” Sun-young suggested.

“I’m not asking her out today! She’s sick!”

“But if you wait, Uncle Tae might ask her out! I think he likes her too.”

And Namjoon and Jungkook Jimin internally grumbled.

“Don’t you worry about it.”

“Maybe I should help. I asked her out for Mango Crush.”

“Sunnie,” he stopped her right outside the building. “I’ve got this.”

She clapped her hands together and agreed, “That’s good, Appa, believe in yourself. I think she likes us a lot, I think she’ll say yes.”

He did not ask Hanbyul out, despite Sun-young’s eager questions as soon as he got back from returning Hudu and delivering the brownie. He tutted her away. Now he wondered if it would be better for her not to have known for a different reason. She might overwhelm Hanbyul. She might make Hanbyul feel rushed or pressured into something she didn’t actually want.

No, he had to trust Hanbyul in making her own decisions. He believed she would. And his heart did feel lighter about it all knowing he had Sun-young’s shockingly full support.

Instead he waited until Sun-young had gone to bed to make the last phone call he needed to before he’d feel free to take the next step.

“Hey, Namjoon! I don’t want things to be awkward between us so I want to be upfront with you about my feelings for Hanbyul…”

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#jimin ff #jimin x oc #park jimin fanfic #dad jimin #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin fic #jimin fanfic #single dad jimin #after the applause

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foxymoxynoona · 4 months ago

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After the Applause Ch. 8

Header and linebreaks by @awrkives

Single Dad Jimin x Female OC

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Taehyung and Jungkook were annoyingly chipper from the moment they walked through the door. Jimin hadn’t even invited Jungkook, but both of these guys were the type to let themselves in, maybe without a knock, and help themself to whatever was in your kitchen before you even got home from work. Mostly he loved it.

“Where’s my daughter?” Jungkook called.

“That’s not how babysitting works!” Sunnie shouted back down the hall, just like she did every time Jungkook made this joke when he came over.

“Let me live, Sun-young. That’s no way to speak to your appa-for-an-evening!”

Jimin grinned at their antics but focused on his reflection in the mirror, straightening his collar, tugging his sleeves into place. He brushed at his hair, smile sliding away. It was such a harsh contrast. Totally different. He worried he looked… sickly. Did it look greasy? He ran his fingers through it like usual, but it fell back into the center part. Maybe he should have left it longer… or gone shorter to start? It was risky to change his appearance so much right before a first date, wasn’t it? This was a pretty drastic change and if even he was having a hard time with it…

“Do you need a pep talk?” Sunnie asked from the doorway.

He plastered on a smile and laughed, “No. Why would I need a pep talk?”

“You look worried.”

“Is it the hair?” Taehyung asked over her head.

“Why? What’s wrong with my hair?” Jimin quickly asked, fluffing it again.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Taehyung laughed. “It looks good. Great, even! But you keep messing with it.”

“It’s so different,” Jimin admitted.

“Different isn’t bad,” Sunnie wisely reminded. “I think it looks nice!” He almost asked if she was glad, because her schoolfriends had made that comment about his blond hair, but decided against it. That was not a factor in his decision, and he didn’t it was on her mind either as she smiled so nicely at him.

He drew a deep breath and agreed, “I think it looks nice too. I’m just… nevermind.”

“Nervous?” Sunnie asked.

“No no, I’m not. I don’t want to talk about this,” he said and waved his hands to get them to clear out of the doorway so he could leave the bathroom.

“It’s ok to be nervous before something big.”

“It’s not big, it’s…” Just Hanbyul, he thought, but that was both true and not true. It was “just Hanbyul” –nice, supportive, easy-going Hanbyul. He enjoyed spending time with her and now he’d have the whole evening with her undivided attention. But at the same time, it wasn’t just anything, it was a date. There was a point to hanging out this time: hopefully to earn a second date. And a third and a fourth and– suddenly the future overwhelmed him. What was he rushing into, going on a date? He barely had stability with his daughter!

A knock on the door made them all turn.

Jungkook snickered, “Is she coming to pick you up?”

He didn’t think so but worried their date was already starting with a miscommunication. He crossed quickly and threw it open, ready to apologize that he wasn’t quite ready yet, he needed a few more minutes to debate his visual choices–

Seokjin stood on the other side, looking wide-eyed and surprised, like Jimin was the one who had shown up at his house unexpectedly.

“Didn’t you go yet?” Seokjin gasped. “Are you late? When did you change your hair?”

“I’m not late, I’m about to go. What are you doing here?”

“We’re having a party and there will be dancing,” Sunnie giggled as Seokjin slid past and caught her when she jumped up for a flying hug. “Don’t worry about us, Appa. Have fun on your date! Don’t forget the flowers!” She had helped him pick them out on the way home when they passed a vending machine with bouquets inside and he’d audibly gasped, realizing he had almost forgotten.

“Why do you need three babysitters? This is trouble.” All four blinked at him and he sighed, “Whatever, I don’t have time for this. I have a date to get to.”

“Hey I came over so there would be an adult here,” Seokjin defended, which everyone promptly ignored.

“Yeah, get going,” Taehyung ordered. “Don’t keep her waiting.”

“Women like men who are on time,” Sunnie agreed with an emphatic nod of her head.

“What do you know about women?” Jungkook demanded.

“I’m a woman!”

“Someday,” he snorted. “Don’t rush it, mini-Mochi. You’ll make us all feel old. You can’t get married until I am.”

Jimin couldn’t help but think the same thing, that she was getting too drawn into something grown up like “dating”. What if knowing too much about his dating life was making Sun-young grow up too quickly? He really ought to be hiding all of this from her, he kept thinking about that, about how devastating it was going to be for Sunnie if dating Hanbyul didn’t work out. Little girls shouldn’t know their dads were going on dates, right? He didn’t want to risk her getting hurt.

Well it was too late now. She knew and was exuberant about it –unless this was all excitement about an evening with her uncles, which was entirely possible. Jimin gave up on getting an answer as to why all three of them had come. He hadn’t asked for this, so he wouldn’t feel guilty about their unpaid babysitting. He’d only asked Taehyung! Probably it meant they were planning to play games after Sun-young went to bed.

“Be good,” he called over his shoulder.

“He means all of you,” Sun-young teased, then let out a shriek of laughter as Seokjin tossed her onto the couch so Taehyung could get the remote first.

Jimin felt a little jealous to leave. That lasted until he closed the door, flowers in hand. He grinned as Hudu’s barking sped closer to Hanbyul’s door when he buzzed, then the thud of the pup jumping against it. He could only make out the murmur of Hanbyul’s voice and felt his heart dip in his chest. Ah, he was really this excited, huh? It wasn’t even really nerves, though he licked his lips and ran his hands through his hair and fidgeted which could all appear so. Maybe he was a little nervous. But really, truthfully, he was just really excited to get to spend the evening with her.

“Sorry,” she said, swinging the door opening and flinching as Hudu tried to escape her hold. “Am I late? I’m not late, am I?” She shook her head as a lock of hair escaped her updo and fell across her forehead and Jimin resisted the impulse to reach out and brush it back.

“Is Hudu coming with us?” he asked instead, hoping it sounded smooth because his brain shut down regarding anything else. She had a red cardigan on over her red dress; even though the dress reached her knees, she looked incredibly sexy. He was stupefied.

“Oh my god your hair!” she gasped.

“I’ve never seen you in that color before,” Jimin said before realizing what she’d said, seconds before she did what he had not been brave enough to do and reached up to touch.

Jimin would have stayed frozen for the rest of the night if she’d kept playing with his hair, but Hudu took the opportunity to try and claim a kiss, which made Hanbyul cry out in pain as his little feet scrabbled against her chest.

Without thinking, Jimin pressed his hand to cover her chest and protect it, just as she turned to toss Hudu back into the apartment, resulting in Jimin sliding his hand across her chest and accidentally cupping her breast.

He gasped and pulled his hand away, stammering, “Ah, sorry, I–” Hanbyul shut the door and looked up at him with obvious alarm. Horrified, he waved his hands and said again, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… touch…” In trying to explain, he made an unfortunate squeezing hand gesture.

Hanbyul pressed her hand to her cheek and laughed, “I didn’t think you did. It’s all right.” Jimin felt like it was a pretty offensive start to the date, and the moment of awkward silence that followed made it worse. He didn’t know what else to say. He was stuck on how stunning she looked, bold and bright in a way she did not usually dress, classy as always, like she knew how to command a date or a boardroom or anything else she wanted to command. By contrast Jimin felt rather rumpled now. He’d stylishly tucked in only half of his black and white button-up but now worried it looked too casual, or like he’d done it by mistake. Was she thinking that, that he wasn’t stylish enough to go to a company dinner on her arm?

“I just locked my key in my apartment,” she said, voice level so it took a moment for him to register what she’d actually said.

“You what?”

“I closed my door… my whole purse is in there still,” she said, holding her hands out to show they were empty. For another moment they just stared at each other. It wasn’t like her, so far as he knew, to be forgetful like that. In a way it put him at ease. Was she just as nervous and excited about this as he was?!

“You look incredible,” he said, because he couldn’t wait any longer to say it. “Even without your purse.”

“Thank you. Your hair really does look nice,” she said, her gaze focused on it while his resisted the pull of the red fabric running down her body.

“Yeah? I wasn’t sure… I’ve been blond for so long.”

“What made you change it?”

“I don’t know… I just felt like it was time for a change –uh, should I call the landlord?”

“Yes– wait! Don’t you have my–”

“Oh yeah I have a key from when I was checking on Hudu!” he realized. “Wait here please.” She didn’t actually need to wait there although he figured it was better not to parade her through his apartment where three of his friends and Sunnie would leap at the opportunity to pester her. He avoided their questions on his own, claiming to have forgotten something as he dug around the bowl of coins and keys by the front door until he found the one belonging to Hanbyul.

“Sorry, I should have returned this,” he admitted, setting it in her palm.

“I’m glad you didn’t or we’d spend our date waiting for the landlord,” she said, bowing politely before pushing the door open and disappearing inside “Thank you, one moment please.”

It was more than one moment. At almost five minutes, Jimin was almost ready to fear she’d gotten cold feet when she appeared again, murmuring to Hudu before sliding out the door, this time with her black purse over her shoulder. He didn’t know what had taken her so long to find her purse but decided not to ask. He remembered Subin telling him that, how women had to be allowed to have some mystery to them.

Damnit, he didn’t need Subin giving him advice right now.

And yet it was darkly comforting, the idea that Subin would be in his mind. It didn’t depress him at all, it instead made him feel calmer and cooler as he pushed the elevator buttons with Hanbyul ramrod straight beside him. He had loved Subin and she had loved him, and she would want him to find happiness again, because he knew in his heart he would have wanted the same for her. It was hard, being lonely.

He’d managed to win over an amazing woman years before. Maybe he could pull it off again.

“Is it true that lightning doesn’t strike twice?” Jimin asked. Hanbyul looked understandably confused by the question. “It sounds like one of those things that people say but it isn’t actually true.”

“If only Sun-young was here, she might know,” Hanbyul suggested with a smile.

“Maybe I’ll look it up– no, I won’t,” he decided, pulling out and then slipping back his phone. It would be a strange thing to do on his date.

“Look it up,” she insisted. “Otherwise I’ll be thinking about it all night instead of…”

“Instead of me?” Jimin laughed. “Damn, science is really out for me, huh? First Sunnie, now you… What does science have that I don’t?”

He adored Hanbyul in that moment so strongly he held his breath, for the way she played along with him, tapping her chin and thinking out loud, “Hm… well… science can cook.”

He laughed and whined and argued, “But science can’t… dance, science can’t… uh… open the door for you.” He did so.

“Well, technically you used physics to–”

“Science is all questions, Hanbyul,” he interrupted. “No answers, just guesses and maybe you’re right, maybe you’re wrong.”

“I have a lot of questions about you too,” she countered. “Guesses, but no answers.”

He failed to think of what to say to that, just froze facing her, mouth open, ready for words that didn’t appear. He was not usually so easily flustered into silence. What did she mean by that? She had answers about him.

“You have answers,” he tried. “I am the answer.”

“To… what hypothesis?”

“Woah woah, simple words please, Sunnie is the scientist, not me.”

“What question are you the answer to?” she asked, such a coy question, surely her mind was thinking the same things. Who is the right person for me? Who cares for me? Who could I see myself building a life with? Who do I want to see at the end of the day and wake up next to and call over a minor inconvenience or majorly good news?

He was getting carried away. He would have felt worse about it if her face didn’t turn such a deep shade of pink as she looked shyly away. That made him want to melt at her feet.

“Who is buying you dinner tonight?” he suggested to save them both, and pulled out his phone to order a car.

“Did we say that? I thought I could pay this time…” she murmured and he pretended not to hear.

“How’s your food?” Jimin asked, knife and fork pausing on his steak as he waited for Hanbyul’s answer.

She was mid-bite and covered her face to chew more quickly before she could answer, “Yes, it’s very good.”

“My friend recommended this place so if it’s bad… you can tell me and I’ll take you somewhere else.”

“It’s good,” she assured him. He had already told her that, that Yoongi recommended it after Jimin told him he wanted to take Hanbyul somewhere nicer for the date than Yoongi’s restaurant, and how Yoongi had said they’d probably just end up at his place anyway.

Hanbyul thought Jimin just wanted her to know he’d brought her somewhere nice on purpose, which was sweet. She appreciated it, even though she was definitely going to insist on paying. This was the 21st century and he had a child to raise and she thought she might make more money than him, though she wasn’t sure. Maybe that wasn’t true. She sure wasn’t going to ask! But still, she thought it very important for him to know that she was the type of modern woman who met someone halfway in a relationship. Of which she had limited experience, perhaps, certainly nothing to the level of marriage but still. It was the principle.

Her answer was honest: the food was very good. Yoongi had chosen well. The restaurant was beautiful, the atmosphere romantic, Jimin had chosen a fantastic red wine which Hanbyul drank too quickly. It felt fake to be sitting in a place like this with Jimin. Not that a man had never brought her to a Japanese steak house before, but it wasn’t what she had envisioned with Jimin. Maybe she should have dressed nicer, but she’d really thought the dress might be the right balance of sexy and safe for her. Maybe Jimin would expect someone fashionable, so she wanted to try. She wasn’t unfashionable usually, right? Her sister had helped her pick out the dress over a video call months before but it had never felt like the right time to wear with Namjoon so it had just been hanging there, waiting for tonight.

“Hanbyul?”

“Hm?” She’d missed whatever he said and sipped her wine to cover her embarrassment. It wasn’t that her mind kept wandering. It was just that he was talking so much and she couldn’t think of anything to say. Since the moment she’d begun to dress tonight, she had the feeling she was preparing for a job interview. Yes, she’d secured the date but that was just the interview. She needed to demonstrate she was mature and responsible and reliable and a good influence for his daughter, and also fun and sexy but not too sexy, and engaging… she was not doing a good job being engaging. Her flustered attempts at jokes probably seemed like she was trying too hard because she was.

Maybe he didn’t notice though. He’d transitioned from the latest music he’d heard and wanted to incorporate into the next recital –not the one coming up, but the one he’d dance in next– to movies.

“I’ve been watching movies lately,” he said. “The movies that I’ve been watching… well, not many. Maybe three, I watch at night while I’m folding laundry or working out after Sunnie goes to sleep.”

“Oh? Anything you enjoyed?”

“Ah… this one, I don’t remember what it was called…” He trailed off and took another bite of his steak. He glanced at her plate and she sensed he was about to ask her how it was again but then caught himself. He took a sip of his wine too and this time paused, waiting, clearly for her to choose a topic.

“Um…” No, she shouldn’t say um. “I need to take Hudu to the vet soon.”

Instantly Jimin’s face shifted to concern as he gasped, “Oh no, is something wrong?”

“Oh. No, just for grooming –his nails are too long and he needs some shots.”

“Ah, you scared me,” he laughed. “How would you feel if I said that? I need to take Sunnie to the doctor soon.”

“Sorry, that would scare me!” she admitted. “I just meant… I don’t know what else to talk about.”

“I’m not very good at conversation. Maybe I’m talking too much,” he sighed with a shake of his head. Hanbyul didn’t think either of those things was true at all. “I do that when I’m nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?” she asked without thinking it through.

He looked at her in surprise and then laughed, “It’s my first date with you, did you forget?”

“I definitely didn’t forget I just… don’t know what you have to be nervous about,” she said, attempting to sound casual through the giddy jump of her heart. “I mean, you’re so charming.”

He immediately latched onto that and leaned forward, chin in his hand as he pressed, “I’m charming? You think so?”

“I agreed to the date, didn’t I?”

“I charmed you into it. I was worried you might see through it. I’m a nervous wreck. I’m not good at the whole–”

He gestured and she didn’t know what that meant but could honestly say, “That’s what’s so charming about you. You’re sincere. You care so much.”

“I do,” he conceded. “That’s why I never could have been ready to date if it was anyone but you.”

“Why is that?” She was afraid it would show on her face how impossibly thrilled this made her. Really? Only her? That couldn’t be true.

His grin was the sort that made your heart start, the type of beautiful smile that if she knew him any less she would think was just a play. He had to know the power of that smile, he had to be doing it on purpose. But she could see the way it paired with a softness around his eyes, a slight self-conscious squint.

“You’ve seen the confusing mess I can be and it didn’t already chase you away so maybe…” he looked at the ceiling in thought. “Maybe it can be ok if I talk too much or the restaurant isn’t good or it rains on our walk home.”

“I wouldn’t hold the rain against you. And if the food is bad, we’ll just wind up at your friend’s restaurant,” she pointed out.

“That’s true, we can.”

“But the food is really good. And if you talk too much when you’re nervous, that’s good, because I get quieter when I’m nervous, and that way we can still have a nice conversation.”

“Maybe a little one sided.”

“Maybe a little one-sided,” she agreed with a laugh. “Until we get on a topic I’m passionate about and then maybe you’ll– be bored–” She broke off, realizing with a start his hand had been creeping towards her’s on the table only because it suddenly pulled away. Her heart flipped. Had he been going to hold her hand and stopped, or was she misunderstanding? Maybe he’d only been reaching for his cup on the wrong side. Still, she kept her hand there, even though it felt too far forward. She was curious. She would have loved for him to take her hand, even if it made eating awkward. But maybe she’d misunderstood and that was too forward. She expected things might move slowly with him and that was perfectly alright.

He didn’t act like he’d just tried to hold her hand, just lifted his glass and insisted, “Ok, let’s hear it. What things are you really passionate about?”

“Me? Um…”

“Gender equality,” he said. “Hudu.”

“Yes, yes.”

“Winter.”

Again she nodded.

“What else? I feel like so much of my time with you has been demanding your attention for things in my life. I want to know so much more about you.”

“I’m not that compelling,” she tittered self-consciously.

“I think you are.” Now it was her turn to look surprised and he actually flushed and pressed his hand to his forehead, crying, “Sorry, was that too blunt? You looked so surprised!”

“I’m not used to someone saying anything like that to me.”

“Why do you think I asked you out?” he teased. “You think I find you boring but kissed you anyway? Ah, it’s a good reminder though, I feel more confident now that you’ve reminded me you can be ridiculous too.”

“Jimin! I would never be ridiculous,” she joked, crossing her arms. “I have good reason for my nerves.”

“Tell me one good reason.”

“What if you’re scared away by something I say?”

“Like you have a crazy passion? Ok, tell me what it is, I’ll let you know if I can handle it.” He sat up straight, hands down on the table, body so serious and stiff but he was having a hard time keeping a straight face.

“Snakes.”

“You’re lying,” he said, instantly curling in.

“I’m not, I think they’re very interesting!”

“Snakes are– ok, maybe it’s time to get the bill–”

“Jimin!” she laughed and tried to nudge him under the table. His joking and pretense of standing up had made several people look over, but Hanbyul didn’t feel self conscious about it at all. In fact she felt a little proud that people would see her here with this handsome man smiling and having a good time with her.

“Do you really like snakes?”

“I’ve only actually ever seen them at the zoo, never up close,” she admitted. “But there are some really interesting blogs about them I read if I can’t sleep.”

“You’re kidding.”

But she wasn’t and when she shook her head, he laughed and sighed, “Ok tell me what else. What other snakes do you have in your pockets? If Sunnie finds out she’s going to ask to get a pet snake.”

“Does she like snakes?”

“She likes anything you like, I think,” he suggested.

“I don’t think so. She has such a beautiful mind of her own. We do like some of the same things though.”

“Sorry, I was trying not to bring her up much tonight– oh, yes, I think we’ll take the dessert menu,” Jimin answered the waiter. But what he’d said struck Hanbyul, so as soon as the waiter left, she pressed him on it.

“What did you mean just now? You’re trying not to mention Sun-young?”

“I didn’t bring you on a date to just talk about my kid the whole time.”

“But I don’t mind at all! It’s all right if you need a break from being Appa but really, Jimin, I love to hear about her, you don’t have to worry you’ll talk to much about her.”

“I guess that’s true... It’s not like you don’t already know I have a daughter.”

“I figured it out,” she joked.

“Probably because you watch so many crime documentaries, hm? That’s how you figured it out?”

“How did you know that?” she gasped, sure she had never told him that.

“I figured it out,” he smirked. “You’ve mentioned a few times that you were jumpy after watching one. Don’t watch things that scare you, Hanbyul!”

“I like the solved ones where you get to see everything start to make sense. I don’t like the unsolved ones though, those keep me up at night.”

“And then you have to read snake blogs to calm down,” he laughed.

“Yes, but that’s a very normal interest though!”

“Snakes and crime documentaries,” he snickered. “And Minnie Mouse–”

“I hate that you saw that.” She covered her face. “How embarrassing.”

“Why? It was cute. Do you like Minnie Mouse?”

“She’s all right. To be honest I always liked Hello Kitty better, but my eomma had this idea that my sister and I needed to like different things, so she’d buy my sister Hello Kitty and me Minnie Mouse which made everyone in my family think I like Minnie Mouse, so…”

“Hold on, let me make a note of this, prefers Hello Kitty,” he joked, pretending to type it on his phone. “Your family doesn’t know that?”

She frowned, realizing, “I know that makes me sound like a pushover. I did tell my eomma when I was younger but then at some point, I didn’t want to seem ungrateful for gifts. It’s the thought that counts.”

“I wasn’t thinking that at all. I think of it as you were being thoughtful towards your family, but I,” he gestured, “would want to give you the thing you really want.”

“I don’t think you need to take notes on that,” she said, then heard herself and quickly reached for her glass of wine. It’s you. She couldn’t imagine ever being disappointed with anything Jimin gave her, simply because he took the effort to think of and get something for her. But really she’d been thinking something way more embarrassing: if I have you, what else is there?

“What sort of gifts do you like?” she countered to recover.

“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” he quickly dismissed. “Food and how well you get along with my daughter, that’s all for me.”

“There has to be more. What do you consider really romantic?”

He looked up in thought and the lights reflected in his eyes. They looked darker with his darker hair, the line of his brow looked heavier, his lips looked so much more pillowy with the contrast. Hanbyul could have said plenty before about how much she loved his blond hair, how natural and handsome the color suited him, but Jimin with dark hair managed to be even more stunnnigly handsome. She hadn’t been able to resist touching his hair earlier and wished she could do the same again. Maybe his hair color stood out less now in a restaurant full of dark hair but it made his natural good looks even more obvious.

“To me it’s really more about the thoughtfulness and the effort,” he said. “So if I buy someone a bag, I want a gift they like so they know I have space for them in my mind, that the things they care about are important to me too. But there’s no physical gift to unwrap that means as much to me as when someone is there for you. That’s romance to me.”

“Yes,” Hanbyul said, awed by him. “Yes I think that too.”

“Like when you were there with Sunnie when I was so sick. I’ll never forget that.”

“It wasn’t a burden at all. She was much easier than you cleaning up after Hudu,” she countered.

“It really feels like we understand each other,” he said, but low under his breath, like it wasn’t entirely meant for her to hear. Her heart fluttered. She felt that way too, and it gave her confidence to relax slightly. Even if they weren’t used to a situation like this –a fancy dinner just the two of them– that was the part they could get used to in time.

The dessert menu arrived, but when they didn’t either one see anything that called to them, they agreed to go elsewhere. Hanbyul insisted they split the check when it came, only to learn Jimin had already secretly paid for it and wouldn’t even explain to her how he’d managed the magic trick, because she hadn’t left the table since the beginning and neither had he.

“Then I’m buying dessert,” she insisted as he held the door for her. “And probably the next two dinners…”

Laughter bubbled out of him as he teased, “Ah, already planning more dates with me before this one is even done? I must be doing all right.”

“Yes, I think so,” she assured him. She poked him in the side and insisted, “We’ve known each other for a while. We can be casual with each other, you don’t have to hold the door for me.”

“On the contrary, Hanbyul, I used to feel casual with you, and now everything feels much more serious.”

“Don’t let it. It’s just me, friendly neighbor Hanbyul.”

He laughed, “You’re going to haunt me with that until old age, huh?” and stopped himself just before he poked her back. He missed her look of regret. She was hungry for his touch and didn’t want him worried there was a formal boundary like that; hadn’t she just said that? But maybe it was about his comfort, and she would respect that.

“Yes, I think I might,” she admitted, deciding to stick with verbal teasing. It was a joke, but a hopeful one: that they might have a future that extended far into old age.

She was too distracted to notice the movement of his hand until his fingers had brushed hers, a gentle question she answered by sliding hers through. His hand was warm, almost sweaty, despite the cool night air. She would have liked to say something clever or coy but found all thoughts left her mind as they walked down the street holding hands.

“Cake or ice cream?” he asked, the only question to break the silence during their walk.

“Cake.”

They found a sweet cafe further down near the park where conversation flowed more easily, like they were settling more into this unusual scenario. It was just a little challenging without Sun-young there to tug them forward, that was all, as Jimin told himself. But they picked different cakes and tried each, and he felt more confident here with how the lights sparkled in Hanbyul’s eyes when two samoyeds sauntered over to demand some pets, and once she was talking about Hudu, Jimin forgot to feel nervous at all.

“It was fate,” she explained about her meeting with Hudu. “Someone carried him in from the rain with the box his previous owner had put him in. He was so little, I couldn’t imagine how anyone could just abandon such a sweet boy like that, so I took him in.”

Jimin stopped himself before making what felt the very obvious comparison to himself and Hudu. Hanbyul had a soft spot for blond boys with big brown eyes who looked at her with adoration, was that it? He felt like she’d pulled him in out of the rain too.

She paused only briefly when he took her hand, then continued her story about Hudu. He understood how much easier it was to talk about their babies; stories of Sun-young poured from him as well as they sat close together across the cafe booth. It was so quiet and casual that Jimin found himself beginning to doubt his plans for the rest of the evening.

“I think we need to change our date,” he admitted once they’d sat over empty plates long enough.

Hanbyul’s mouth opened so slightly that Jimin nearly leaned over to kiss it, she looked so soft and pretty.

He resisted and quickly clarified, “I had planned to take you to a club so we could finally have our dance but I don’t really feel like sharing you with a noisy space right now.”

The flush on her face was so pretty that Jimin decided he needed to flirt more boldly with her, even if he felt nervous about it. She ducked her head and lifted her glass but it was empty. Cute cute, he thought. Then,

“Ah, I have an alternate idea though.”

“Ok…”

“Don’t be so nervous,” he laughed. “It’s a bit of a walk, is that ok?”

“I have nowhere to be, if it’s not too late for you.”

“Sun-young is probably in safe hands. She’s got three babysitters tonight so… maybe I should check in actually…”

He waited until they were outside and walking close together before he sent a group text, figuring someone would see it. Within minutes Seokjin had replied telling him to get off his phone, that wasn’t how you impress a woman, and to stop worrying about Sunnie, she was asleep. Then Taehyung and Jungkook berated Seokjin for not letting them answer with something funnier. At this point Jimin slipped his phone into his pocket and took Hanbyul’s hand for the third time now.

“Everything ok?” she asked when he didn’t volunteer anything.

“Hm? Oh yeah, everything is fine. She’s asleep.”

“Maybe I should have sent Hudu over too for the company.”

“You could have! My friends would love Hudu. Do you think he’s lonely? Do we need to head back?”

Hanbyul looked like she regretted her joke and insisted, “No no, I think he’s probably enjoying being king of the apartment for a few hours. Maybe he’s getting into mischief. He’s so smart, he knows how to cover his tracks, so I won’t find a purse he chewed up or an empty food bag for days or weeks and then he pretends like he has no idea how it got beneath the bed.”

“Ah, he’s so smart,” Jimin agreed. “Unless you’re the one eating your snacks in your sleep, and he’s really innocent.”

“Don’t let him convince you!” Hanbyul laughed.

“Are you sure you don’t eat snacks in your sleep?”

“Or chew purses?” she giggled and it was music to his ears, that giggle. He brought her hand to the inside of his elbow and pressed his other hand over it, because just holding hands didn’t feel close enough. He felt like he floated along beside her. He’d never dreamed he could feel this way about a woman again.

He worried she was getting tired just when they reached the studio, dark inside except for a couple emergency lights that were always on upstairs.

“Is this ok?” he asked her.

She dropped her voice to a whisper and joked, “Are we allowed to be here?”

He whispered back, “I have it on good faith with the owner that it’s ok.” He unlocked the gate and pushed it up, then the door and held it open for her to enter.

“You’ve been here before, right?” he asked.

“Just that time I dropped Sunnie’s bag off. Maybe another time I walked her here… not really inside.”

“Well, welcome to my other pride and joy, my second child,” he told her, flipping on lights as they went so she wouldn’t be scared in the dark. He wasn’t. He could walk this place blindfolded and only trip if one of the students had left their bag or shoes strewn about, which often did happen. He tried to see the place through her eyes as he led her around but couldn’t imagine what the big empty studios would look like to a non-dancer. Probably just big empty rooms. He began to worry that this was a dumb thing to do, bringing her here.

“You and your wife opened this place, right?” she asked as they entered the private back studio, his favorite one, where he’d intended the tour to finish.

Jimin froze, a flash of regret grabbing his shoulders. Shit. Yes. Yes they had and now he turned slowly to her, realizing he had brought her to a place that was meaningful to him and his late wife, to dance, which had been the uniting factor with him and his late wife.

“I… yes…”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to mention her if it’s… if that’s too painful or upsetting!” Hanbyul rushed out. “I just meant to get my Park Jimin history straight!”

“It’s not that I’m expecting you to– that I’m searching for a replacement for her or anything,” he rushed out just as quickly.

“That’s good because I really can’t dance!”

“I didn’t bring you here to… I’m sorry, I didn’t even think that it might make you uncomfortable to be here,” he apologized, flicking the light off and nudging her back towards the door. “I wasn’t thinking, I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t need to be sorry, and we don’t need to go!” Hanbyul insisted, gently nudging him the opposite direction. She tried to reach the light but couldn’t find it, her hand searching along the wall as she insisted, “I’m not upset by that, truly.” She flicked the light switch but it was the lights around the mirrors rather than the overheads –admittedly a more romantic atmosphere anyway.

“Jimin,” she said, and he swallowed, bracing for whatever she had to say, aware of the much larger space between them right now than at any point during their walk. “I’m not… bothered or afraid or upset by the fact that you had a wife who you loved and she was taken from you. I’m heartbroken that you had to endure that kind of loss but I don’t feel like I’m competing.”

“You aren’t,” he said quickly. “And my feelings for her are in the past.”

Hanbyul gave him a gentle smile and pressed, “I don’t think they have to be. I’m certainly not the expert here but I think our hearts are big enough to love many people in many different ways throughout our lives. Ga Subin is someone who I greatly admire for who she was to you and Sun-young. I feel nothing but kind things for her, except regret that she didn’t get to have more time with you and your daughter. You don’t have to try and erase her from your life to make space for me. I hope you don’t feel that way.”

“I just don’t want you to feel like… like I’m comparing you two, or that I wish you were her. You’re two different women to me.” He stepped closer to her, hoping she could feel the earnest truth of his words. “I do wish I’d had more time with her, but I didn’t. I will always miss her, and you’re right, I can’t erase her even just for Sunnie’s sake but… but meeting you, getting closer to you, feels like you opened a door I didn’t even know was there, to a new future that I… I look forward to very much.” He lifted his hand, brushing his fingers against her jaw, overly aware of the way her mouth opened that soft small way again.

“That’s… good. I’m glad to hear that.”

“You can’t understand how much being with you has healed my heart,” he continued. “I’ll always carry the scar of Subin but you are such a big, bright, warm space in my chest that everything feels beautiful again. I’m so glad I knocked on your door that time Sun-young was sick.”

She hadn’t expected that reference, and let out a quiet laugh, “I’m glad you did too. I was happy to help.”

“I didn’t even know you well yet but from that moment on you made me feel like everything could be all right, like I could be happy again. I’m sorry it took me so long to reach the point I realized truly what you are to me. I didn’t think I could possibly earn a new future like this.”

“Don’t be,” she insisted, longing for his kiss. “You needed the time. I don’t resent that at all. It gave me time to make sure of what I really want too, if I think I can be who you and Sun-young deserve. I’m no Ga Subin and I won’t pretend to be but–”

“You’re my beautiful neighbor Hanbyul,” he grinned and leaned in, whispering millimeters from her lips, “who I’m head over heels for.” The longed for kiss captured Hanbyul’s heart as much as she’d expected it to, flooding her with warmth from scalp to heels. She bunched her fingers in the fabric of his shirt, feeling like she needed to grab something or she’d be swept away in him. There was no one else in that kiss but them, she didn’t feel at all like she was second, even here in this business he and his first love had built together. She had no doubt Jimin’s heart was big enough, only disbelief and honor that he’d pulled her into it.

Mostly, though, she was just lost in the softness of his lips and how perfectly they danced with hers.

“Ok,” he murmured, slowly backing up but tugging her with him. “Let’s dance?”

“I really don’t know how.”

“I saw you in the club, you were sexy.”

“I was drunk.”

“Well, I can make us some drinks too,” he grinned and then really did pull away.

She crossed her arms and demanded, “Do you hide alcohol in your dance school!?”

“Not usually but we only have adult classes in this studio and sometimes we have a little night cap after rehearsal,” Jimin said, “Like last night.”

“The performance is coming up, right? You and Sunnie are both performing?”

“Sunnie’s last ballet recital,” he sighed.

“She’s staying in hiphop though, isn’t she?”

“Yes, that’s true. That’s a good way to look at it, I shouldn’t be so down about it,” he admitted, unlocking a cabinet in the back corner and pulling out two bottles of cider and a bottle of Tequila. “Which do you prefer?”

“Cider,” Hanbyul quickly answered. “Tequila would be a very different sort of night.”

“Hm, what sort of night would that be?” he teased, but locked the Tequila back inside. The story Hanbyul told him as they sat on the floor against the mirrors, sipping their cider, was not the sexy tale he clearly expected. It involved a company dinner she felt obligated to attend, tequila shots she felt obligated to partake in by her boss, and an intern holding her hair back as she puked on the walk home.

“No tequila for you, got it,” he laughed. “But for the record, I’m the kind who will hold your hair back and bring you a glass of water and bufferin.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Will you come to the recital?” he suddenly asked, backtracking. It occurred to him suddenly that he hadn’t asked and shouldn’t assume she would, just because it felt so obvious to him that she ought to be there. He might be getting ahead of himself, slotting her mentally into his life so quickly.

“Of course I will, if I’m invited.”

“You’re invited. I’ll save a seat for you and dance my best to impress you.”

“I’m sure I’ll be impressed no matter what,” she admitted, already feeling it go to her head –the cider, the idea of watching Jimin dance on stage, the suggestion he was dancing for her. “When did you know you wanted to be a dancer?”

Listening to Jimin talk about his passions was like watching the sunrise. Hanbyul was transfixed. She regretted that she didn’t have some beautiful passion to talk about in the same way, and missed completely the way he watched her when she talked about what felt like such meager ambitions next to his. She wasn’t saving lives or adding beauty to the world through her work, but she had pride in what she did professionally and pleasure in her culinary endeavors outside of work.

Jimin suddenly looked stricken and asked, “When is your interview again?”

“The first round is next week.”

“Ah. You’ll do great. When is the next round?”

“Well I have to make it through the first.”

“You will,” he insisted.

“I hope so but…”

“But nothing,” he insisted. “Do you want to dance now?” He felt bad to cut her off, but he didn’t want to go further down what could be the one fly in the soup. Hanbyul deserved this better position, he had no doubt about that, even though getting it would take her away just as they were getting started. He hadn’t been thinking about that, flying high on the updraft of this budding relationship.

Well. The interview process would take weeks, maybe even months, and when she got the job… well, they’d figure it out. They’d figure something out.

She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet, but wasn’t prepared for the way he swung her around into his arms. She clutched his arms, gasping and giggling. His smile dazzled her as he pulled her close to keep her steady and swayed her a few steps in each direction, bemused when she tripped over herself to keep up.

“This is already embarrassing.”

“I don’t think it’s embarrassing,” he argued. “I like you hanging onto me.”

“You’re the most graceful man in the world and I’m like a baby duckling.”

He smiled so broadly he worried it would make his face ghastly and pressed it into her shoulder to laugh, “A baby duckling in a Minnie Mouse shirt–”

“Don’t tease me about my pajamas!” she complained and Jimin was sure his heart was going to explode. The urge to kiss her more was overwhelming but he’d rather be overwhelmed than overwhelm her, so instead he just steadied her on her feet and continued to shuffle her around into a simple two step, even though this was not the kind of dancing he’d had in mind. It made the fabric of her dress swirl; he hadn’t realized that. He was going to have to be so respectful to avoid glimpsing panties if he spun her.

“Don’t we need music?” she asked.

“Can’t you hear it?” he asked, and pulled her closer so he could hum, then softly sing a slower version of a song he loved, “All this is no coincidence. / Just just by my feeling, the whole world is different from yesterday. / Just just with your joy / When you called me / I became your flower / As if we were waiting / We bloom until we ache.”

She caught him by surprise with her kiss and he smiled into it; it was like she’d read his mind.

“I didn’t know you sang so beautifully,” she murmured. Then, “I also can’t do that.”

“Sunnie warned me.”

Her spluttering laughter resulted in her head against his shoulder as they swayed. He laughed into the silky strands of her hair. It broke the moment in a way and forged a new one, less frighteningly soft but just as intimate. Joyful. Blooming.

“I’ll put music on,” he suggested as they stepped apart.

“Are there more ciders?”

“How many ciders do you need to dance with me like you did in the club?” he teased and tossed her the keys to open the cabinet.

“At least eight…”

“No, did you really drink that much!?”

“I don’t know, I’m just taking stock of my nerves…”

He adjusted the dance music coming through the speakers and then gestured her closer, though she slid another bottle of cider into his hand instead of her fingers.

“How did you open these?” he asked, because the bottle opener was still on the ground by the mirror.

“I have some talents too.”

“I want to know your talents,” he grinned. “Show me with the next one.”

So she did, laughing at his amazement as she used one bottle to pop the cap off the other.

“How strong are your fingers?!” he cried, grabbing her hand as if looking for a secretly embedded bottle opener.

“Strong, I guess… I type a lot?”

“You type a lot and it gave you– our hands are almost the same size. Mine are small but strong but–”

“It’s just a trick. I’ll show you.”

“Hanbyul. Were you a big party girl?!”

“I was not,” she admitted. “But I used to drink a lot of beer just with dinner…”

“Really?! Beer?”

“I don’t know, there’s this kind of beer, I really liked the taste of it!”

They split this third bottle between them, both the light side of tipsy and giggling and moving more freely around the studio by then. Jimin wasn’t looking to be drunk and she declined another, but he couldn’t deny the thrill of knowing she trusted him with herself like this. He liked the way it freed her up to move, swaying this way and that around him. He’d do this with her, again and again over time, until she felt comfortable dancing uninhibited with him, even without cider. He didn’t mind. He wouldn’t have even pushed except for the way she seemed to so wholeheartedly enjoy herself, dancing along to the music, sliding through his arms, winding her arms above her head. She was definitely not as awkward or rhythmless as she made it sound, only lacking in confidence. Jimin looked forward to helping her build that confidence. He was thrilled at the prospect of something he could give her in exchange for all she gave him.

It was nearing midnight and their dancing had grown quite a bit more intimate, nudged there by the close music, the sugary aftermath of the cider, and Jimin’s hands sliding more pointedly around her hips. He’d squeezed and she’d turned into him, pressing her face against his.

“I think you’re a beautiful dancer,” he murmured.

“You’re drunk.”

“Not on two and a half ciders,” he argued.

“You must really like me then,” she giggled and he nodded, nose brushing hers, “I do really like you. What you said is true.”

“You aren’t going to be too hung over for your rehearsal tomorrow, are you?”

“I’m not thinking about tomorrow at all,” he admitted. “It doesn’t matter. It’s worth it dancing with you.”

“This is the best club I’ve been to.” She stopped herself from saying anything further that might be stupid or embarrassing. I can’t believe I caught the eye of the hottest guy here. Her head swam from all the spinning and dancing and she knew she was hitting the unflattering side of sweaty but Jimin’s moves around her made her feel graceful and beautiful. The whole thing made her feel young and stupid and free in the best way possible and she hoped it was just as fun an escape for him too, this kind of date with her. There was something really freeing about being able to let loose like this and know with absolute certainty she was safe.

“Next time we’ll go to a museum,” he said.

“Next time?”

“Next date. Will you go with me?”

“Yes, but I’ll plan it.”

He nodded, then let the brush of their noses turn into a kiss. His hands slid down her side and a spark in the back of his mind urged take it further; you’re alone here; you could have even more than this with her. He wanted it, he did, but the tipsy yearning was not enough to make him rush anything with her. They were different now than they’d been yesterday, but he wanted to savor every step of the way with her. Even the suggestion of sex with her made him shudder with nervous anticipation, but it wouldn’t be tonight. He wanted to be sober and present and certain he could be good for her in the moment, sorely out of practice as he was.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, because he was being so quiet and looking at her with this gaze like he wanted to consume her. She might have been projecting though because she most definitely wanted to be consumed by him.

Not that he was about to tell her his thoughts, and only ran his hands down her sides again as he slid around behind her to catch his breath, then lifted her silky hair from her neck just to see if it would be ok for him to kiss her there–

Heavy footsteps on the stairs made them spring apart and then the studio door flew open and Hoseok leapt through with a crowbar. Hanbyul only gasped sharply as Jimin leapt in front of her.

Hoseok promptly dropped the crowbar and demanded, “What are you doing here?” then let out a peal of nervous laughter.

“Why do you have a fucking crowbar?!” Jimin cried.

“I was walking by and saw the lights on and thought someone broke in!”

“And you were going to brain them yourself?” Jimin huffed. He marched forward and took the crowbar and shook it, scolding, “Call the police, if you’re worried, don’t put yourself in danger over the studio! It’s only a building. So what if someone broke in to dance.”

“Yeah well…” Hoseok didn’t seem to have anything to say to that, just went suddenly quiet, gaze sliding from Jimin’s flushed face to Hanbyul’s. “I see.”

“You see nothing,” Jimin joked, then waved his hand and corrected, “No, no, you see me on a date that was going very well before you interrupted.”

“Hi Hanbyul,” Hoseok called. She had her mouth covered with her hand and just gave a small embarrassed wave.

“Recreating the club with no competition this time,” Jimin explained further. “So… go.”

Hoseok laughed and nodded, “Yeah yeah, I see that, ok. Make sure he treats you with respect, Hanbyul! Goodnight you love birds!”

Jimin delivered a playful kick to Hoseok’s backside as he scurried from the studio, his own heart still racing from the shock of the interruption. He’d have to scold Hoseok again tomorrow too. How dare his close friend risk potential injury just to investigate potential burglars?! And what burglars turned on music as they worked anyway?

“Sorry,” Jimin said, drawing close again, but now the music seemed too loud and Hanbyul had stopped dancing and seemed uninclined to start again.

“It’s ok. We probably should get home anyway, it’s late and I promised Sun-young I wouldn’t keep you out too late,” Hanbyul admitted.

“What?! She said that?” he cried, voice overly loud as he turned the music off so suddenly his ears rang.

Hanbyul shirked her shoulders and assured him, “It was cute. She’s such a sweet girl, Jimin. She told me to have fun on our date and not keep you up too late or you’ll be cranky tomorrow for your rehearsal.”

“Ah…”

“It kind of felt like she wanted me to know she’s ok with us going on a date,” Hanbyul admitted. “I didn’t know she knew but I guess you told her.”

“She’s very happy about it,” he told her. “She threatened me with a powerpoint if I didn’t ask you. Oh, uh… I hope it’s ok that she knows,” he realized. “I just couldn’t really hide it because she was so–”

“It’s completely your call, you know what’s best and I’ll just follow your lead. But you’re welcome about the powerpoints! That skill will be useful in school as she gets older,” Hanbyul insisted at his teasing.

“Yeah and god knows I don’t know how to make a powerpoint. It’s a miracle I ever get funding for this place.” He picked up their bottles and Hanbyul hit the lights when he gestured.

“Well you’re so charming to the patrons,” she reminded. “When you run into them at clubs.”

“Ha!”

“Maybe next time I can help you with a pitch,” she added. “So you don’t have to flirt in the club. Just an offer!”

“With your business brain and my charm…”

She laughed at it too. He couldn’t tell if she’d sobered up or not been as affected by alcohol as he had thought. He didn’t actually know how well she held her cider, but she seemed peaceful and content as they rinsed the bottles out in the kitchenette off the office, and set them in recycling. He let her pull the gate down because she asked to, giggling when he grabbed it at the last second so it wouldn’t hit the ground too loudly.

“Oops.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a thing or two to teach you too,” he teased.

Their hands found each other’s again on the walk home in mostly silence, companionable and quiet after the loud music in the studio. Even though there had been no crowds, Jimin felt tired, as if he’d truly come from the club. He supposed dinner, dessert, and dancing was a decently long first date.

Hudu must have thought so too because he ruff ruff ruff grumbled when Hanbyul opened the door, kicking his back legs like he was threatening to pee right there in the hallway. Jimin insisted on walking out with them since it was so late, uttering his sincerest apologies to Hudu along the way. Their neighborhood was good and he wasn’t actually worried about Hanbyul meeting with trouble, but he wanted the satisfaction of kissing her goodnight at her door, knowing she was safely inside for the night.

When her lips lingered on his, he brushed her hair behind her ear and took a good long look at her face.

“You’re very charming, Jimin,” she murmured.

“I tried really hard to charm you,” he admitted with a broad grin. “I’m glad it worked. I’m rusty.”

“I don’t think that’s true. I think it’s natural. I bet you’ve been charming everyone since you were a child.”

“Hold onto that as you get to know me more,” he pleaded without any real fear behind it. She’d already seen him at his lowest, at his worst, and all before he’d even asked her out, yet she’d agreed to the date.

“If you’re cranky tomorrow tell Sun-young it wasn’t my fault,” Hanbyul returned and for the hundredth time Jimin wondered if it was really ok to feel this happy, this fond, this close to someone so quickly. It was only their first date and shit, he was already in deep.

He drew a deep breath once her door was closed, trying to find his head again. He couldn’t. He headed for his own apartment, braced for whatever ribbing his friends lobbed at him, because he was too high in the clouds to be bothered by it.

Jimin was actually the one who had thought of the perfect demonstration for Sun-young; his daughter’s thrill that he was taking this serious and being involved would have been impossible to miss.

“Tsuyoshi is cleaning coins,” Sun-young informed Hanbyul as they sat at the kitchen table surrounded by posterboard, construction paper, marker, punch out letters, and eggs. “Siwoo is drawing faces on balloons so people can give them salt and pepper beards. Sora is doing balloon rockets.”

“It’s a diverse list of demonstrations,” Hanbyul managed to get in through Sun-young’s excited nonstop chatter. She’d recited the whole list of demonstrations from memory before finishing with,

“And I’m sucking an egg into a bottle! It was Appa’s idea.”

“I’m full of great ideas,” Jimin agreed, though his attention was mostly on his laptop as he stood at the kitchen counter, ordering the supplies they needed for the rice cakes.

“I just need to practice with the matches,” Sun-young said, picking up the box.

Hanbyul’s eyebrows raised as she asked gently, “Will you be doing that part or an adult?”

“I know how to light a match! I did it once.”

“When did you do it once?” Jimin immediately demanded, attention suddenly grabbed.

“One time.”

“With which uncle?”

“How did you know I was with an uncle?” Sun-young asked, then giggled and said, “I’m not a snitch.”

“Where did you learn ‘snitch’?! What is happening here?”

It was clear Sun-young got a kick out of trolling her father, and Hanbyul smiled to see the way they poked and teased and giggled with each other. It was a much happier relationship than Jimin had feared the shift away from dance might leave them with. Likewise, Hanbyul was just as relieved to find herself in the Park apartment today with nothing changed just because she’d gone a day with Jimin two days ago. Only two days! In a way everything had changed but in the way she had feared, nothing had. She’d made dinner to bring over like she had before, and Sun-young had begged to listen through Mango Crush’s new album while they started homework, and now the album was finished and they were only just getting to the science demonstration part, though they had another week and a half to finish the poster board with science notes and mater the experiment.

The difference was that Jimin’s hand brushed her back when he passed her in the kitchen, and she had a hard time not looking bashfully away any time he caught her eye, and didn’t his lips look extra kissable tonight?

But everything with Sun-young was normal, even though she knew they’d been on a date. She hadn’t said anything about it and the last thing Hanbyul would do was push. She was just glad to be here and things could go at whatever pace the Parks thought was right.

“Ok, Appa, you can light the paper and show us how to do it.”

“You’re the scientist here, not me,” he teased.

“I know but you’re my assistant so you can do the dangerous part. I’ll allow it.”

“Ah, thank you, I appreciate it, the honor is all mine.” He bowed, then closed the laptop and pulled a chair over.

Hanbyul playfully turned her undivided attention to him, propping her chin in her hand and giving him an expectant look like she was front row at a show.

“Let’s see the magic,” she demanded.

“It’s not magic, unnie, it’s science. Oooh that’s a good line,” Sun-young gasped. “I’m going to say that right after. Let me write that down.” She had a lined notebook with “DEMONSTRATION SCRIPT” written on the top line and used a fat marker to write down her own words, mumbling, “I’ll put it in order later.” The seriousness with which she approached this was beyond adorable.

Hanbyul vaguely remembered this science experiment from her school days but not enough to remember the way it worked. She’d just dutifully boiled and peeled the eggs like Jimin asked –well, she had offered after he had complained about how hard it was to get the shells off and shown her his butchered attempt. He’d looked so amazed when she’d shown him the trick with vinegar and cold water while Sun-young marched around the house pinching her nose. His hand had pressed against her lower back for just a moment before he’d pulled it away before Sun-young could see.

“Ok walk us through it,” Sun-young told Jimin. “I’ll take notes.” She looked quite the little scientist with her marker posed over the notebook.

“What you see here are three hard-boiled eggs with their shells removed. They’re real eggs. See? Here, touch the eggs,” Jimin said, holding the bowl around. Sun-young gave him a skeptical look, to which he explained, “You don’t want the audience accusing you of tricking them with fake eggs.”

“What kind of fake eggs look like that?”

“I don’t know, but people will doubt what they can’t believe. A true magician knows to get the audience bought in.”

“It’s science, not magic,” Sun-young repeated.

“Touch the eggs, Sunnie.”

She gave the eggs a good slap and giggled when they jiggled. Even though Hanbyul had peeled them herself, she dutifully touched the eggs and nodded.

“Oh yes, I see, very real.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Sun-young sighed and Hanbyul bit back her laugh.

“You have to work the audience for a demonstration just like you do for a dance recital,” Jimin admonished. “Now see here how the eggs do not fit into the glass bottle.” He took one and set it on the rim of a bottle. Sure enough, the egg just rested there, clearly too big to fit through the mouth.

Hanbyul scratched her neck and looked away, bemused by her own internal inappropriate narration. Oof.

To say her thoughts about Jimin had been a little on the flushed side since the way he’d run his hands up and down her body, the way his lips had dragged against hers, the way their bodies had spun and swayed in what felt more graceful and intimate than it probably looked –well, it had been a sweaty weekend, temperatures unusually high outside for this time of year, so she couldn’t be blamed. It was either Jimin’s fault or mother nature’s.

“These are simple strips of paper. Nothing exciting. But what if I told you I can use a strip of paper to get the egg into the bottle? How do you think I’ll do that?”

“I already know,” Sun-young sighed when Jimin waited for suggestions.

“It’s called audience involvement,” he told her.

Sun-young turned to Hanbyul and asked, “Is that what you do?”

“Hm… it depends on the audience and what I’m trying to accomplish. But yes, getting audience input can be a good way to make sure they’re invested. You have to be prepared to move it forward in case no one suggests anything though, a lot of time audiences are shy.”

“Excellent point,” JImin barged ahead. “I won’t leave you in confusion any longer. Watch as I take this paper and light it on fire!” The way he emphasized fire made Sun-young erupt into giggles. “Er, assistant Hanbyul, can you hold the paper? Maybe we should get a lighter instead of matches…”

Hanbyul held the paper by the end as he struck a match and held it to set the end aflame, then quickly took it from her hands and dropped it into the bottle where it began to curl and smoke. He plopped one of the eggs on top and all three leaned in to wait and watch.

“I think we’re supposed to be saying what’s happening,” Sun-young reminded.

“Oh right. Yeah, rewind, we should say… this is an experiment about air pressure,” Jimin said. “There’s air pressure pushing down on this egg on the bottle, but there’s also air within the bottle.”

Suddenly the egg slurped through the bottle with a ‘pop’.

All three erupted in cheers and applause as if they hadn’t known exactly what was going to happen. There really was something magical and cool about it, the egg now hidden from view in the smoky haze circling inside the bottle.

“I think you can just explain what we saw now,” Hanbyul suggested. “And then maybe do it a second time so people who are interested know what they’re watching. That way you get the surprise and the explanation.”

Sun-young nodded and tapped her marker, “I like it, I like it. So explain what we saw, Appa. I don’t understand this one yet but I need to know everything so I can take questions.”

“Ok, there is air within the bottle and what we want to do is create a vacuum within the bottle that will pull down on the egg while the air pressure above is pushing down on the egg because that pull creates uniform pressure on the egg –well, back up, we should say first that if you try to smush the egg into the bottle, it will just smush the egg, because you’ll be applying uneven pressure on the egg wherever your fingers press and the air within the bottle is resisting, pushing up on the egg,” Jimin said.

“Maybe we should have a second bottle where I do that first,” Sun-young suggested. “I can just smush the egg so they see it for themselves.”

“Good idea. So here, a vacuum of decreased air pressure inside the bottle will pull on the whole egg, tugging it down in one piece.”

“How is the fire making a vacuum though?” Hanbyul asked.

“If I remember correctly, the air expands and pushes up around the egg, that’s why we saw it wobbling and the egg acts like a stopper so more air molecules can slide in. It means there are fewer air molecules now inside the bottle than above. And the fire does burn some of the oxygen molecules up.”

“We have to be sure,” Sun-young said, very seriously. “We should research.”

“I want to watch it closely again and see the wobbles,” Hanbyul added.

Sun-young made a face and asked with concern, “How do we get the egg out now though?” She lifted the bottle and tilted it to the side, blowing as the smoke cleared and the scorched paper tumbled out but the whole egg rolled around inside.

“Oh you’re going to like this part, but an adult has to do it,” Jimin said, taking the bottle from her. “We do the same thing, we need the air pressure in the bottle to be stronger than outside. So watch this.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and Sun-young and Hanbyul both stared transfixed as he blew a lungful of air into the bottle, which rocketed the egg into his mouth. He spit it out as they howled with laughter.

“If you just do a little air, it’ll ooze out but it’s funnier to pop it out fast,” he explained.

“Unless you choke yourself in front of everyone,” Hanbyul laughed.

“That will still be funny,” Sun-young admitted. “We can talk about science safety if that happens and how it’s not smart to use air pressure to shoot an egg into your mouth.”

“Thank you, I love to be made an example of,” Jimin chuckled. Then he held his hands out and asked, “Well, what do you think, will that work? Sun-young you can present and I’ll be your assistant who does the dangerous parts while you explain what’s happening.”

Sun-young looked to Hanbyul, who agreed, “It’s pretty cool. I bet everyone will remember it.”

“Yeah, I like it.” Sun-young gave them a determined nod. “Ok let’s write a script and we have to explain the whole thing on the poster board and I need another bottle and I think we’ll need more eggs too. Appa, you can check with Miss Choi to make sure we’re allowed to use fire but I think it’s ok as long as you’re doing it, because sometimes she uses fire for things too.”

“We have our marching orders,” Jimin laughed and began to explain the science again, slowly, so Sun-young could write it down. His foot nudged Hanbyul’s beneath the table and she glanced at him, cheeks warmed by his look. Just as he began his explanation though, his phone rang.

“Who is it?” Sun-young asked, straining to see the phone.

“Not for you! It’s Halmeoni,” he added before rising from the table to answer, “Eomma! How are you?”

Hanbyul tried not to listen and just focus on recalling Jimin’s words for Hanbyul. She’d met Jimin’s mother before, a very nice woman who clearly adored her son and granddaughter. She loved how familiar Jimin sounded talking to his parents, who he clearly had a good relationship with. Mostly his side of the conversation was too simple to eavesdrop on anyway, but he didn’t leave them wondering for long.

As soon as the call ended he explained, “Well, Halmeoni and Harabeoji want to come next weekend to help us make the rice cakes and then stay all the way through your demonstration and our recital.”

“YAY!” Sun-young cheered, leaping onto her knees in her seat. This didn’t seem surprising to Hanbyul at all, that they would want to come for their son’s and granddaughter’s dance performance.

“And um, your other grandparents want to go to both as well,” he said, which had Sun-young just nodding as she continued to write. Hanbyul noted the glance he sent her direction but wasn’t sure what it meant –unless, she realized, it meant he thought it was actually not a great idea for her to attend a family event just yet.

Which made total sense! This romance between them was new, and it made perfect sense that Jimin might not be in a rush to introduce her not only to his own parents, but for Ga Subin’s parents to see him starting something new with another woman. It was most important for Sun-young to have her supportive grandparents there; that was more important than anything.

Though the subject dropped then, Hanbyul was quick to bring it up again much later in the evening, after they’d taken a family walk to let Hudu toilet and then watched an episode of a cartoon to let Sun-young decompress from homework, and then Jimin hugged and kissed her on the other side of teeth brushing and a shower.

“I think she’s already asleep. Science really wears her out,” Jimin announced as he returned to the dining table where Hanbyul had just finished tidying the leftover homework supplies.

“I added a sticky note to the eggs in the fridge that says ‘Do Not Eat’ so you don’t forget,” she told him.

“Thanks but you didn’t have to do all this cleaning up.”

“And leave it for you after you put her to bed? It’s not a big deal,” Hanbyul assured him.

“Well thank you–”

“Just like it’s not a big deal if you’d rather I sit out the recital and science day,” she quickly added just as his hand touched her arm. “I completely understand, with your parents and Ga Subin’s parents joining.”

“Ah…”

“Of course I would love to support you both but I really do understand.”

“It’s very early,” he mused.

“Exactly, we’ve only been on one date.”

“I had hoped our second date could be this weekend but it won’t be possible to hide that from my parents.”

Hanbyul nodded and insisted, “I completely understand. There’s no rush, I can plan our second date for after your parents have gone home.”

“No, I mean…” His face screwed up adorably, and then his expression shifted and he asked, “Do you think it’s too early? It’s too early, right?”

“I…”

“I mean, it’s only been one date. It’s too early,” he decided, looking to the side.

“If you have any doubts about it, there’s truly no reason to rush the introduction,” Hanbyul insisted.

“I don’t have doubts about it,” he admitted. “But is that crazy? I mean, my parents have met you before. They thought you were lovely. They’d be happy to spend time with Sunnie while you and I have a date, it would just mean telling them that I’m dating you and I just wonder if it’s too soon for you to want to– if it would make you feel overwhelmed that we’ve gone on one date and I’m already telling my parents about our… relationship.”

“Won’t Sun-young say something anyway?” Hanbyul suddenly realized.

Jimin slapped a hand to his forehead and laughed, “Yes, probably. I didn’t think about that…”

“I’m not afraid of you telling your parents,” Hanbyul assured him, though there was certainly a thread of fear laced through the fluttering in her chest. What if they liked me as your neighbor but not your girlfriend? He hadn’t said she was his girlfriend, and the word was suddenly too bright to look at. She felt important in his life and close to him and she didn’t need a label–

“It’s ok if I tell them you’re my girlfriend?” he asked, head dropped so that he looked up at her through his eyelashes, as if he needed to seduce her to convince her!

“Am I your girlfriend?” she stammered out, startled by his directness.

“Ah, am I rushing you?” he cried and looked so frightened by it that Hanbyul rushed forward to grab his hands.

“Our timeline is all crazy,” she told him. “I don’t feel rushed, but I do feel a little crazy.”

“Me too and I just don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing you into something that you aren’t ready for –there’s no pressure here, Hanbyul. I can even tell my parents to mind their own business if you’d rather I don’t use the 여 word yet… Yeah, let’s just– I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be springing this on you so fast,” he apologized, even bowed a little to her.

“Jimin, stop. I came into this knowing we’d be a little out of order. I came into this with eyes open. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to rush into anything to keep my attention –I mean, I’ve been pining for years at this point, I can be patient.” She meant it as a joke but it wasn’t a joke and immediately she realized she had said too much.

He laughed and pressed his hands to her face and kissed her forehead, murmuring, “Ah, Hanbyul, you’re the funniest woman I’ve ever met.”

“No one ever thinks I’m funny!”

“Have you really been pining for me? Tell me more.”

“Absolutely not.”

He slid his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest, and sighed, “What a lucky man I am.”

She hated to potentially dump water on the moment but still felt a niggling concern and pressed, “Well even if you’re comfortable telling your parents that you’re seeing someone and even introducing me as that someone, what about Sun-young’s other grandparents? I wouldn’t want to make them uncomfortable either.”

To her relief, Jimin did not let go. Just rested his cheek against her hair and considered this.

“I think it will be harder for them, because just like Sun-young growing up, it’s proof life is moving forward without Subin,” he admitted. “If you do want to go –and I do want you there, to be clear– I’ll talk to them before so that they aren’t surprised, and even if it’s hard on their hearts, I think they will quickly see how good you are to Sunnie, and how much she adores you.”

“I don’t want to make things harder on grieving parents.”

“If you’re uncomfortable with them, I don’t want to push you. Maybe just… think about it. And I’ll talk to them so they know and then at least everyone is aware.”

“All right, that sounds right. There’s time to think about it.”

“A whole week and a half,” he joked.

“How long is that on our timeline?”

“Months,” he snickered, and dropped his mouth to hers. Hanbyul wondered for how long each kiss would feel like the first time and thought it might always feel that way, her heart might always flip like that when his fingers brushed her jaw, angling her face.

Jimin suddenly sprang back and Hanbyul didn’t understand why until she spied Sun-young standing on the other side of the table. She hadn’t even heard the girl approach but Jimin had and now scratched his cheek and did his best to look like they hadn’t very obviously just been kissing.

“I just want some water,” Sun-young said.

“Oh, um… ok, sure, let me… get that for you…”

“I can get it myself,” she said, and then kept her gaze on them as she shuffled past to the kitchen, her lips pursed into a tight-lipped smile. They remained frozen as she clanked around the kitchen, pulling a cup from a cupboard, ice from the freezer, filling it with water. Hanbyul thought she might be intentionally taking a long time, furthered by the playful way she suddenly poked her head out of the kitchen before stepping out.

“Ok,” Sun-young said, shuffling slowly past. “Goodnight, Appa. Goodnight, unnie.”

“Good night, Sun-young.”

She glanced over her shoulder one more time, mouth pursed again like she was just checking to see what they were doing. They listened to her shuffling steps down the hall and then heard her door close.

“What a brat,” Jimin laughed, the breath rushing from his lungs.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even hear her–”

“Yes because she didn’t want us to hear her,” Jimin assured her. “She’s going to be teasing me about this for days, I know it.”

“Well… I do think she takes after you in a lot of ways,” Hanbyul told him, which only made him laugh harder, and then box her into another hug.

“Maybe so.”

“Hudu and I had better go.”

“Ah, where is he?”

Hudu had been quiet and unobtrusive the whole evening, alternating between lounging on the rug with his toys or sleeping on Sun-young’s feet. Calling him now did nothing, but a quick search eventually revealed him curled up on a pile of clothing in Sun-young’s room, sound asleep. He just stared at Hanbyul when she tried to coax him out, until Jimin snuck in –Sun-young was already snoring– and carried him out.

“What a relief our kids get along,” he grinned and handed Hudu over.

“The two of them might have planned this all from the beginning,” Hanbyul suggested, which Jimin could only nod to. He walked her to the door, a hand familiarly on her lower back, and kissed her there one more time –quicker this time, since Hudu immediately tried to join in, licking the underside of their chins and setting them both to laughing loud enough to wake up a neighbor.

Then he watched her until she was safely in her apartment, heart hammering in her chest, Hudu marching off, clearly peeved to have been disturbed from his comfortable nap.

She’d expected the timeline to be weird, but had Jimin really asked her to be his girlfriend two days after their first date? She thought she’d agreed but wasn’t sure if she’d made it clear that her answer was unequivocally yes. Had he understood that, or was that part of what he wanted her to think about?

Part of her had thought that going on a date with Jimin would finally let her settle, that after she finally got to kiss him her pining would relax and things could be simple and comfortable. Being at their apartment for dinner had almost convinced her of it. But Hanbyul had never felt so spun up in her life, never more excited about seeing what the next day might bring. Her sister was going to flip, and at the rate things were moving with Jimin, she’d better call her soon!

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