Stuck in my head

😫12

The way that the two of you go through art museums, by the time i emerge, it's already dark and the streets are beginning to empty as tourists and cityfolk alike find places to eat, walking into every bar, restaurant, cafe, and house on the hunt for a good meal, whether homemade or curated. i had spent nearly an hour in the gift shop alone, laughing at the overpriced t-shirts and kitschy pillows.

"Where to next, m'lady?" Taehyung asks as i push open the glass doors and let the biting cold hit your noses.

"You know, we were so busy in there that I didn't even have time to find a nice place to eat tonight," i admit sheepishly.

"That's alright," Taehyung says with a shrug. "I like surprises. Spontaneity is my thing."

"You don't say," i comment sagely, making Taehyung roll his eyes.

Knowing that it's nearly impossible to get a reservation now, me and Taehyung make your way south, following the flow of traffic heading towards Times Square and keeping an eye open for any places that look relatively nice and busy, but not too busy, the perfect sign of both a delicious and available restaurant.

After walking for a few blogs, cuddling together in a totally platonic way to preserve as much body heat as possible in the now freezing weather, air no longer warmed by the sun's rays, we stumble upon a tiny hole in the wall Mediterranean place. i can't really see anything inside due to the fog on the window, forming from the combination of cold air and hot, but Taehyung does a quick google search and says that it's a modern Mediterranean restaurant that specializes in pizza. Google says it has two dollar signs. i hear the word pizza, and everything pretty much goes out of the window.

"Hi," Taehyung says as i squeeze through the little hallway to get to the host, voice warm and silky. "Table for two?"

"Your last name, sir?" The man asks.

"Oh, we don't have a reservation," Taehyung says with a shake of his head. You two are college students. It's not like you plan ahead anyway.

"That's okay, we still ask for every customer's name for a more personalized experience," the host says. He leans forward, eyes wide, waiting for Taehyung to respond.

"Kim," Taehyung says simply as the host gathers two menus and a wine list.

"Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Kim," the host says, and i open my mouth to correct him Because you are not married. You're not. You're not even dating. This is not a date. It's not a date, right?, but Taehyung puts a finger to his lips and tells you to zip it. It's almost like he's enjoying this.

For the rest of the evening, the wait staff all address you and Taehyung as Mr. and Mrs. Kim, which is absolutely outrageous for multiple reasons: you are college students, you both look like college students, you're not dating, you don't act like you're dating other than the hand-holding and cuddling which was purely out of survival and nothing else, and most importantly, you're not interested in each other like that. That part is obvious. Isn't it?

When i order a glass of champagne each they call you Mr. and Mrs. Kim. When Taehyung has a question about one of the ingredients on one of the pizzas they call you Mr. and Mrs. Kim. When i order your food they call you Mr. and Mrs. Kim. When they come by to clarify Taehyung's request of no anchovies they call you Mr. and Mrs. Kim. When they bring these massive pizzas and place them down on your table, wishing you a pleasant meal they call you Mr. and Mrs. Kim.

Mr. and Mrs. Kim, they call you.

"Everything alright, Mr. and Mrs. Kim?" our waiter asks as i plowing through my individual pizzas very inelegantly.

"Yes," Taehyung grins cheesily. "Thank you very much."

He's positively beaming.