Pose For Me | K.TH

8

AILA

No.

That's all Taehyung had said before pulling me out of the café. But instead of looking hurt, that photographer had only given me a smile when I'd looked back one last time.

Like he knew that he'd convince him in the end.

But I still didn't like him, for slipping those photos out when I wasn't looking.

Taehyung sighs heavily.

"Mon Dieu," He whispers, closing his eyes like he has a headache. "I'm sorry, Miss Aila. Are you late for class?"

Class?

"No—no, I'm fine." I say quickly, cheeks still warm knowing that he'd seen me keep those photos in my wallet. "My professor cancelled his class today."

He nods. And it turns all silent— making me feel awkward.

I fidget with the hem of my shirt.

"I heard— from that man, that you didn't like South Korea." I start, voice uncertain. Was I being too nosy?

But when I glance up at his face, he doesn't look too affected.

"It's not that I hate the country, but the people in it." He murmurs softly, tapping his fingertips against his upper arm. "You are the only reason for my remaining here, Miss Aila."

"The moment you're finished with your finals, I plan to take you straight away to Paris."

Paris.

Was I excited? I definitely was, but I was so scared that I'd be a complete mute among people I'd never seen before.

I'd have to study French.

"What kind of people?" I blink slowly, brows furrowing. "I read that you went to France when you were seventeen—"

My mouth snaps shut by itself. He looks at me interestedly, and the blush I'd cooled down comes back again at his amused stare.

"You did your research, hm?"

"But yes." He says, smile tinting his lips. "I used to attend school here. I had a terrible relationship with both my parents— so when I was invited to Paris to study abroad, I got on a plane without them knowing."

"They didn't support what I was interested in back then."

"But now they are?"

His voice turns sharp. "Only because they can see profit. There is no other reason."

And even though I know that I'm not the one that he's mad at, hearing his anger turns me into a quiet mouse again. I just nod, still fidgeting with my fingers.

I think he noticed.

"Miss Aila."

The tone of his words is much softer, and I fumble my head back up. He's looking down at
me warmly, gaze gentle.

His hand reaches up to push back on the curve of my shoulder. I hadn't realized that I'd been arching them forward.

He gives me a bittersweet smile.

"Was it just my hope that you'd gotten more comfortable with me?"

My eyes widen. "No, I am. I'm really comfortable with you, it's just that..."

"I'm not used to seeing you angry. That's all."

Kind of embarrassed, I shift my eyes to a large building next to where we're standing. And for a while he doesn't say anything, until I realize why after quickly peering in his direction.