In Your Dreams (A DahMo Fanfic)

11: Hard mode

"So, this'll be your workstation," I mention, turning the office chair towards Dahyun. She nods, still reluctant to place her belongings on the desk. It's hard to believe that she got hired but, with my recommendation, the heads didn't even question it. I want to be near this woman all the time.

"Okay, just log in your credentials here," I say, guiding her, my hand hovering over hers; too close for comfort. Sneaking in a sniff of her is easy, it's tempering my reaction that isn't. I suddenly feel like Bruce in Finding Nemo, when he got a scent of blood.

While Dahyun navigates her desktop, I zone in on the little hairs on her nape. Fuck, I just want to breathe into it; make it stand on end. Maybe I can sneak in a little?

"Yeah, that's right, just put your password there," I say breathily by her neck. She suddenly flinches back, hitting the back of her head with my forehead.

"Omo, sorry," Dahyun exclaims, rubbing the afflicted area.

"It's alright, I was too close," I say, doing the same. Serves me right. Some of the people passing by shoot us strange looks.

"You can drop the act, Dahyun-ah," I say, kneading her shoulders. Dahyun gives off a perplexed expression but nods nonetheless. "How about we eat at that new pizza place? My treat...since you don't have a salary yet."

Come on, say yes.

Dahyun purses her lips, barely moving the mouse back and forth. Please Dahyun, I don't want to be with you only in dreams. She nods, ever so slightly. "Sure. Thanks, sunbaenim. I've been wanting to eat there, too."

***

For good measure, I ordered safe bets: quattro formaggio and aglio olio.

"Please, indulge," I offer her a slice, which she gladly accepts.

As I'm slicing my pizza, I look over to her, unsure of which utensils to use. She takes a quick glance at me, and mimics how I do it.

"Not used to a fork and knife?"

Dahyun hangs her head. "Yeah, more of a chopsticks-spoon person." After taking a bite, she talks with her mouth while chewing. I could still make it out, despite the hardly noticeable wince on my face, her asking if anyone else is going to show up.

"No." I shake my head, slurping the pasta. "It's just you and me."

"Sunbaenim," she says, placing her utensils on the plate. "Why are you so nice to me?"

Is she serious? She's still playing the coy girl image? Has she forgotten how we were last night? I mean, I haven't, that's for sure.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She looks down and resumes eating. "Nothing. I just wanted to ask."

I reach out and grab her hand, petrifying her. "Besides, you can relax now. We're not inside the office anymore."

"Sunbaenim, what are you doing?!" Dahyun tries to pull away from my grip.

"Why? We already know each other, especially after last night," I retort, my hold unwavering.

"Last night? What are you talking about? Sunbaenim, please let me go," she pleads, discomfort painted across her pristine face. What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On?!

As I release her, she almost topples the wine bottle. Dahyun rubs her wrist, looking for marks I may have left.

"Sorry," I mutter, leaning back to my chair. "I just want you to...have a friend in the company early on." Dahyun glances at me, a hesitant demeanor about her.

Please don't leave, Dahyun. Chasing you's getting really tiring.

Thankfully, she takes a sip of wine and resumes her meal.

I let a few minutes pass to put her back at ease. Thank you, wine gods. Oh dear, her cheeks are reddening—so cute! I wish I could just brush my hand against her warm face.

"Dahyun-ssi..."

She hums in response, her posture more relaxed, nearing a slouch as her almost non-existent eyes are now puffier.

"Do you remember last night? The dream that we shared? The pagoda? Uh...us having sex?" It was so vivid that even a normal person would remember this.

Dahyun furrows her eyebrows, intently gazing at the wine glass she's stirring. She suddenly bursts into a series of chuckles, which turn into full-on laughter.

See? I knew this was still part of your twisted little game, you minx . I chuckle as well, throwing the table napkin at her.

"Momo-yah," she wheezes, all the formality flushed out of her system as it's supposed to be. "You said you know me, right?"

"Of course," I answer, holding her hand again. She grips on firmly. Ah yes, reciprocity.

She waits until the laughter leaves her body.

"Then you should know that I hardly remember any dream I have. Maybe the last dream I could recall was way back in high school," she states, before chuckling again.