Page 23 of A World Apart
“Because ‘Jihoon’ is so hard?” I teased. He looked back up at me and smiled, his eyes crinkling.
“You say it well. I don’t mind; Joon, Jihoon, whatever you like.”
Holy hell, the flutters engulfed my entire torso now, no longer content to be confined to my stomach. My chest felt light, giddy, as I took a deep breath in.
“In that case, you can call me Ky. That’s what my friends call me.” I grinned at him.
Just then, the ceiling lights went out, plunging us into darkness, the sensor not detecting enough movement to keep on.
“Oh!” I exclaimed. “The sensors,” I said, uselessly. I went to raise my arm to wave it around to turn them back on, but just then Jihoon reached out a hand and took my wrist. Startled, I looked at him quizzically.
“It’s better,” he said. “Not so bright,” he explained, flicking a finger in the vague direction of his eyes.
“Ok,” I said quietly, the darkness made me feel like I should be quiet. But what followed was a silence that started to feel... heavy, the longer it went on. He still held my wrist. I licked my lips, suddenly nervous. I began to wonder if he could hear the thumping of my heart, like I could hear the breaths he took.
I don’t know which of us began to move first, but as inevitable as rain fall in the spring, we began to move towards each other, a slight step here, a lean there, until I was close enough to see the way his eyes shone in the reflected light of the studio. He had such pretty eyes; irises so dark they could have matched his pupils. When he smiled, his eyes seemed to smile too, the corners crinkling ever-so-slightly. Fascinated, I watched as his eyes trailed down my face, eventually falling to my mouth. My lips parted on an inhale −
I jumped in surprise as the chime from the arriving elevator dinged loudly through the thick silence of the hallway. The ceiling spots came on as the elevator doors opened and two people stepped off.
I pulled back from Jihoon, his hand falling away from my wrist and I fiddled with my rucksack strap as I saw Trevor Kyle and Youngsoo heading towards us.
Jihoon’s other hand, the one not facing the elevator, darted out and took my hand. I turned back to him, my brows furrowed.
“Eat lunch with me?” he asked quietly, quickly, almost urgently.
I nodded as I darted a look down the corridor; the two men had slowed their steps as they looked at us in plain confusion.
“Floor three, room one.” I whispered, relieved when he nodded in understanding and let go of my hand just as Trevor and Youngsoo reached us.
Youngsoo’s eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth pinched in a firm line, but he nodded his head at me, if a bit stiffly. I repeated the gesture far more magnanimously.
Trevor Kyle, well, there was no other word for it. He smirked at me and looked me up and down, but neither one said anything to me. Youngsoo put his hand on Jihoon’s arm and seemed to push him – gently − into the studio.
I rushed off back down the corridor, not looking back.
Chapter 10
Not knowing what else to do, I headed straight upstairs to Room 1, which was the lounge next to the two larger meeting rooms.
The lounge was as the name suggested, a relaxed space with couches and smaller tables and chairs. This was technically a client relations room, but we rarely ever had clients in here, so it was the unofficial staff room.
There was a flat screen mounted on the wall that was currently tuned to a music channel, the volume turned low enough to serve as ambiance. The far wall was floor-to-ceiling windows that faced out on the busy streets of LA, but the glass was so thick that only the very loudest of noises made its way up here.
The other side of the room was hospitality focused. Counters ran the length of the room, home to a fancy coffee machine that I rarely bothered with − a kettle and freeze-dried instant was good enough for me − snack displays containing various treats, fruit bowls and all the utensils and containers you could need.
I didn’t bother looking at all this, of course. Instead, I sat down on the thickly padded sofa. I stood back up, then moved to one of the little bistro tables before getting back up again. I stood for a while in front of the full-length windows, feelingrestless. Finally, I circled back to the sofa, took out my phone, and pretended to check my social media.
I have no idea how long I stayed like that. Somewhere between five minutes and five days, approximately. Or at least, that’s how it felt.
I was just taking off my beanie and scarf when the door to the lounge snicked open and in slipped Jihoon, pressing the door closed behind him like he was trying to make sure he wasn’t seen coming in here. Perhaps that was the case.
He turned to look around the room, his eyes searching until they fell upon where I sat. He smiled, a wide smile that made his eyes crinkle at the sides. He made his way over to me, sitting down on the sofa a respectable distance away.
“Hi,” I said, my voice taking on that weird, breathy quality again.
He smiled. “Hi.”
“Have you managed to escape?” I asked, fiddling with the threads of a hole in my fashionably-ripped jeans − I think I actually did rip that bit though, caught on a cupboard door.
