𝐌𝐫. 𝐊𝐢𝐦

23

You're halfway through your second slice of Tiramisu when you hear Namjoon laugh from across the table.

"You enjoying your food?" He asks and leans against his chair to feel more comfortable.

The jazz music playing in the background of a high-end restaurant near Namsan Tower fades. You were surprised to arrive and find no one else occupying the vast, open space. Perhaps Monday isn't as busy as a Friday night.

Licking the remaining sweet syrup from the corner of your lips, you grin up at the attractive man who already has his eyes set on you. "Mhm, I think this is the best Tiramisu I've tasted," you tell him. "Thank you for this, Namjoon. You know you didn't have to bring me to a fancy place. I could've just cooked for us at home."

Home.

Namjoon's smile widens as the flutter in his stomach continues unabated. He never imagined it would feel this good to finally be able to express his emotions. The feeling is too good that he wishes it would stay like this forever.

"I know that," he beams at you. "I'd choose your cooking over this any day, but I also wanted to take you out on a proper date. Just the two of us."

The innocent smile on your faded red lips is enough to fill him up.

"You're so good with words," you blush, shaking your head in hopes to hide the blood rush to your face.

"That bad?"

"Mhm, no. You just know the right things to say to a woman."

Namjoon leans closer and pushes up his elbows on the table's surface. Your eyes automatically wander to the veins decorating his arms like a vine. "Is it working on you?"

"Maybe," you say, pressing your lips in a tight line. "But have I told you how handsome you look tonight?"

He gawks at you, his lips parted into an amused grin. "I lost count."

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. "Now, now, humble yourself CEO."

"We're only getting to the best part," Namjoon muttered before looking down at his watch and pushing out of his chair. You look at him perplexedly, instinctively following his movements.

"Where are we going?" You ask, tugging at your skirt and reaching for your purse. Namjoon doesn't waste any time pulling a written cheque from his wallet and placing it on a small, fancy-looking bill.

"Let's go," Namjoon cheekily smiles at you, offering his left hand for you to take. "We have another place to go to."

You frown at him and return your gaze to your table. A man in a suit approaches and bows politely before taking the empty dishes. "Wait a minute, we need to split the bill."

Namjoon raises his brows. "What? No. It's on me, love," he says and takes your hand in his. "Now, c'mon. We're gonna be late."

"Namjoon..."

You stay rooted in your spot, the urge to pay for yourself preventing you from walking out of here.
You don't believe in first date nonsense, or expecting the person who offered to go on a date to pay. You believe that both sides should be able to put one foot down.

It hurts him, but when he sees how determined you are about this, he has to lower his pride as a gentleman. He knows your values and he respects them.

"OK, stay here." He lets out a small smile and lets go of your hand. "I'll go call one of the servers."

"Will you take my card?" You quickly pull out your wallet and hand it to him. Namjoon accepts it, and before you know it, you're walking back to his car, hand in hand, with a satisfied tummy and heart.