Page 24 of A World Apart
To my surprise, he tipped his head back against the sofa and let out a big puff of air.
“That bad, huh?” I asked, scrunching my nose. He looked tired, now that I noticed it. I mean, he was still crazy good looking, but there were shadows under his eyes and his hair had that fluffy look that was usually only achieved by copious amounts of time spent running your hands through it.
He was silent a moment, before he replied, “It’s a lot. We have a lot of work to do before we have a vacation, so we’re trying to do it all now before the comeback.” He ran a hand down his face before he turned to me.
“Sorry to complain...” He sat up a little straighter, as if he thought I was going to judge him.
I held up my hands to wave him off. “No, please don’t say sorry. You’re human. I can’t imagine how hard you must have to work. I’m amazed you even have a vacation.” I admitted, pulling my leg up in front of me so I could angle my body to face him. I leaned my arm up on the back of the sofa and rested my head in my palm.
The small smile he offered damn near broke my heart.
“I am human. But I am also a performer. It can be…” he paused, took a breath and then said, “hard.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, putting as much empathy into the word as I could.
He closed his eyes and waved a hand. “Don’t be. It’s hard, but I am happy.” And this time, when he smiled, I believed him.
We lapsed into silence for so long that I thought he might have fallen asleep. Not that I could have blamed him.
While I had the opportunity, I admit I creeped a little. My eyes ran over his face, greedily taking in every little detail. The fan of his dark eyelashes as they rested against his cheeks, the curve of his neck. The slight throb of his pulse was endlessly fascinating to me.
The silence was broken by the door opening and the two of us jumped as if we’d been caught doing something immoral.
Well, maybe I had been. My face flamed as I met the eyes of Youngsoo as he entered the lounge.
He said something to Jihoon, who had stood up. Youngsoo lifted a white paper bag and Jihoon pointed at one of the bistro tables, replying in Korean. Youngsoo made a ‘hmm’ noise and deposited the bag on the table and then turned and left. I watched this exchange in surprise, thinking for sure he was going to insist Jihoon leave, or at the very least that he was going to stay, as a sort of chaperon.
I very much got the impression from Youngsoo that he did not think I should be around Jihoon.
“I, ah, ordered food,” Jihoon said, holding his arm out to the bag on the table. “I wasn’t sure what you might like…” he looked so shy, I couldn't help but smile.
“Wow,” I said, getting to my feet, “you didn’t need to do that.” I walked over to where he stood. “But thank you, that was really kind of you.”
Jihoon ducked his head and began to unpack the bag. I recognised some things right away, whereas others not so much. Once we had it all laid out on the table, including the utensils and drinks, Jihoon surprised me by pulling out a chair and indicating that I should sit. For some reason this made me unspeakably shy, but Isat − as ladylike as I could manage − and he pushed in my chair before taking the chair opposite me and sitting down.
There were two dishes each of rice and a soup of some kind and a bunch of other, smaller containers filled with colourful, delicious looking things. I recognised the kimchi, which I am a big fan of. There was marinated tofu, mixed vegetables and… that’s where I drew a blank.
Jihoon pushed one of the containers of rice towards me as he pulled the other towards him. He picked up his chopsticks, and I tried, I really did; to copy the way he held them in his hand, but I’m sure I embarrassed myself.
He picked up a bit of the kimchi and put it on top of my rice.
“Thank you,” I said with a smile, my chest doing that silly, fluttering thing again.
He began to eat, picking at bits here and there and I did the same. Albeit, when I ate, it was with far more awkward hand gestures.
The second time I dropped the cube of tofu, Jihoon pursed his lips, having the courtesy to pretend he was not laughing at me.
“Hey!” I scolded, pretending to scowl, “I’m trying here.”
He waved his hands and said, “I’m sorry, it’s just…” his eyes darted away before coming back to mine, still crinkled at the sides with mirth, “You’re so cute.”
Holy hell. I almost slumped in my chair.
Instead, I played it off, by cupping my face in my hands in the universal symbol of aegyo − acting cute. I even poked my tongue out, which was absolutely worth the cringe when I saw his red ears.
“Here,” he said, scooting his chair around the table until he was sat next to me, instead of opposite me. Gently, he picked up my hand holding the chopsticks and positioned my fingers around them until they felt more secure. Which is absolutely not what I was focused on.
What I was focused on was the way he leaned so close to me. So close that I could clearly see the little mole on the side of his nose. I saw the way his hair fell over his face; it was wavier than I’d seen it before and for some reason this surprised me. Which is obviously the reason I couldn’t stop staring. Absolutely no other reason.
