CHP 10

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~~~~~Five years ago~~~~~

KIM MILA

It was a few weeks after my eighteenth birthday when my dad had to go on a business trip and there was only one person he would trust a teen like me with.










I'm dropped off at Taehyung's house to stay for the week. Of course, I was ecstatic with the idea that I was going to spend more time with him, which wasn't easy after he went abroad and took up his father's business.













Taehyung babysitting me is a rare occurrence.














My father has a brief conversation with him, which I'm sure is about how he shouldn't let me have any boys over or allow me to throw parties. My dad thinks I'm a heathen, that I might do drugs or alcohol only because he caught me trying a cigarette with my best friend's boyfriend when I went to the movies last week.















It was just a one-time thing, but my father would not listen to excuses. According to him, I'm mingling with the wrong crowd.














Good for me, he thinks Taehyung is the best influence.














Taehyung easily picks up my luggage and leads me upstairs. "I'll usually be in my study. If you need something, just holler or text me, okay?"













"Sure..." I say.

















Does he really expect me to sit in one room and do nothing? He wants me to waste my weekend in a guest room?
















My idea of fun is a little different.
















"I'm hungry," I complain.

















He drops the bags on the bedroom floor and turns around. "Should we order pizza?"
















"Yup. Sounds good." I pick up a magazine from the counter and unconsciously flip through it, "We are going to share."
















"I just had lunch."
















"We. Are. Sharing."
















He rolls his eyes. He is thirty-six and gorgeous AF. He looks at least ten years younger than his age. I mean, look at that black t-shirt stretching over his broad chest, and those slim ripped jeans that highlight his very fine ass.
















I'm eighteen and hormonal. Give me a break.

















I'm also very immature, so I don't miss any opportunities of touching him. I go up on my tiptoes and whisk his thick hair.














He touches his hair, "What's wrong?"













I shake my head, "There was something stuck in there, but it's gone now."













𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 | THV FFWhere stories live. Discover now