lion heart [bbangsaz] {feat. daerin}

Annyeongz > HannYoung

Hanni

As particular as Danielle carried herself, Hanni admitted it came from a protective place. Even her roommate Haerin knew Minji qualified as Hanni's type—which was one of many. Hanni inherited her father's plentiful and often, detrimental, dating tendencies. Dad, the ladies' man; Hanni, the ladies' lady.

God, Minji's self-deprecating humor and that genuine adorable gummy smile were recipes for a massive fuck-up. She'd be bound to the same fate as the others, Hanni feared.

Then, what made Minji unforgettable? Barring her thirst for romance, Hanni took her thousandth stroll through the gardens of logic to explain these feelings.

All her exes were beautiful, so a nice figure couldn't spellbind her like that. Her first one flaunted a vast knowledge of European history and could flirt the pants off her at any given time. Her second one, mysterious, her razor-sharp wit prompted dangerous levels of obsession. Even Hanni's brief, mismatched foray with Winter was jump started by her timid and unpretentious intellect. So, what in the hell kept Hanni sweating over an unremarkable someone? It couldn't be the thrill of the chase. She'd outgrown that.

Determined to solve this, she left her task at hand, called out to Winter and Irene that she had personal business to attend to, and prepared her next step.

Pulling into the Craftie's Warehouse parking lot brought on memories of those divine, ignorant days before a boyfriend slashed into them like Zorro's rapier. Ugh, if only she'd had a sixth sense for these things. Haerin and Danielle went out as much as she did (whether she liked it or not), yet Hanni found herself on the receiving end of "she wasn't worth it" talks more often than not.

And how freaking darling had Minji looked in that ill-fitting polo and those tight black skinny jeans? Somehow, Minji's lack of style enhanced their first date. Then, when she'd gotten out of the car to walk to the store entrance, Hanni stared at her ass so hard she swore a moral authority would come knocking on her window.

"Pham, get a grip," she berated herself.

Less wallowing, more spying.

Hanni snatched one of five pairs of sunglasses hiding around her car, threw on a rosy bomber jacket, and trotted inside. She hadn't set foot in a Craftie's since she moved to Korea in High School. Bargain-hunting regulars and the neutral smells of retail life surrounded her, lightly scented by the icing topper demonstration nearby.

"Now, where the heck is she?" she mumbled, also recalling the Warehouse wasn't a literal warehouse, but still goddamn huge.

Just as she absently yanked two stubborn carts apart, somebody cornered her.

Friendly close. Okay...uncomfortably close.

"Welcome to Craftie's Warehouse," the cheetah-eyed, disturbingly good-looking sales associate greeted. "Don't lie to me. You're famous."

Thank god it wasn't that younger one, Eunchae. "I'm sorry?"

"C'mon, miss," she boldly eyed Hanni head-to-toe, twisting strands of dark hair. "I know incognito when I see it."

Hanni rolled her eyes behind the dark glasses. Those, combined with a low-brimmed cap and—foolishly—5-inch stilettos certainly did read as an idol doing an asinine job at keeping herself concealed. She'd managed to make herself more conspicuous. "Not incognito, I'm afraid. I'm searching for..." Shit, she'd rewind what she said if she could. This woman seemed determined to follow me around. "Browsing."