The contract with Death! M.YG× Reader

Chapter 9: Cherry Danishes and Geometry

I found Yoongi leaning up against a lamppost outside after classes ended, his nose buried in Romeo and Juliet again. I couldn't keep back a sigh of relief. He hadn't blown me off. That was a good sign.

"Hi," I said nervously as I walked up to him.

He lifted his eyes from his book and gave a short nod as a greeting.

"So." I rocked back on my heels, hands clasped behind my back. "What do you want to do?"

Yoongi dropped the book into his backpack, swung it up on his shoulder, and gestured down the sidewalk. "I have something in mind. This way."

I almost had to sprint to keep up with Yoongi's considerably longer strides as we passed the buses idling at the curb outside the school. We'd made it halfway down the sidewalk before I heard a loud shout of, "y/n! Wait up! Hey!" behind me.

I turned back and saw one of my friends, Eunji, making her way toward me. Her expression quickly slipped into a mask of shock when she saw Yoongi standing at my side.

"Hey, Eunji" I said as she approached, shooting Yoongi an anxious glance.

"Hi," she said breathlessly. "Um . . . I was just wondering . . ."

The look on Yoongi's face was almost a mildly amused one as Eunji stared up at him as if she were looking at the devil himself.

"Aren't . . . aren't you going to go over to Chaeyoung's tonight?" Eunji asked me, biting her lip. "Since Ailee's grandparents are in town, we're going to marathon America's Next Top Model. Remember?"

"Er, no, sorry. I'm actually—"

"Sorry, Eunji" Yoongi said pleasantly. "Y/n and I are hanging out tonight."

"Oh. Um. Okay." Eunji gave me a quizzical eyebrow raise as she started to back away. "Right."

Text me later, she mouthed frantically before sprinting back down the sidewalk for the buses.

"I had an art class with Eunji last semester," Yoongi said as we began to walk again. "Real smart girl."

Yoongi's voice was all but dripping with sarcasm, and I found that to be a smidge annoying. Yoongi didn't need to be insulting my friends when he didn't even know them. Eunji really was smart—she just liked to pretend she wasn't because she operated under the impression that high school boys liked ditzy girls, much to the annoyance of the rest of our group who told her she was awesome the way she was.

I quickened my stride to keep pace with him as he set off down the sidewalk again. By the time we stopped walking, we had traveled a considerable distance and my feet were beginning to ache.

We were standing on the sidewalk in the shabbier part of Myeong Dong, outside a redbrick building that was in a rather sad state of disrepair. Above the door, swaying in the chill breeze, hung a blue-and-white sign that said "Hakrim's Coffeehouse . . . A Little Taste of Daegu since 1956!" in peeling black letters.

The place was old, that much was obvious, but it held a certain charm I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"Wow." I looked to Yoongi. "What's this?"

"Family coffeehouse," he grunted before sweeping inside.

I rushed forward to catch the door, immediately enveloped in a pleasant warmth as I stepped over the threshold. Soon, the rich scents of chocolate and coffee beans assaulted my nose as I looked around.

Intricately threaded tapestries hung from the wood-paneled walls, along with paintings of what looked like different countryside landscapes. A large marble fireplace was to the left, and burning logs were in the grate, a welcome relief from the cold outside. An overstuffed red couch sat in front of it, along with matching armchairs. Off to the side, pushed up against one of the walls, was an old upright piano that looked as if it had been collecting dust for years.