A Kiss For A Kiss

16

"You're slacking," Jisoo rasps.

No kidding, I think, barely managing to stand on my toes as she carefully lowers a vase of lilies over my head. We'd agreed yoga might help loosen my tense, sore muscles, but I was starting to doubt this was anything like yoga. Jungkook should be paying for my therapy sessions at this point, since he's the one responsible for all this, but we both know he'd rather rot in a pond of acid than do something that kind.

"There isn't water in it, right?" I ask, struggling to keep my balance.

"Of course there is," Jisoo chuckles as she lets go of the vase, leaving it precariously balanced on my head. I'm forced to suck it up.

"Is the water at least fresh?" I mutter, already knowing the answer.

"Of course not." Her voice drips with amusement, and I can imagine the smug grin plastered across her face. She and Jungkook could pass for spiritual siblings, honestly.

"My gosh, Kim Jisoo—" The words barely leave my mouth before I lose balance. My arms flail, and with a loud crash, the vase shatters into a million pieces on the floor.

"Cr-a-a-a-p." I groan, face down on the carpet, one leg twisted awkwardly beneath me. For a moment, I'm too stunned to move, just staring at the mess around me.

"Oh no, no, no," I say, forcing myself to stand as I catch Jisoo's wide-eyed stare. "I'll pay for the vase. I'm so, so sorry—"

"That vase was twenty million won," she deadpans.

"WHAT?!" My vision goes red, and all the pain in my leg vanishes as I march toward her. "Come to think of it, this was your idea! You set me up for failure—"

Jisoo bursts into laughter, clutching her stomach as if she's about to collapse. "I was just kidding, my god!" Her laughter bubbles over. "Relax. I'm not going to make you pay for it. My parents probably forgot it even existed."

I exhale sharply, cheeks burning. "You could've warned me. I almost had a heart attack."

"Yeah, yeah." She waves it off, still grinning. "I'm hungry anyway. I'll get Michael to clean this up while I whip us something to eat."

Michael, her caretaker, handles all the cleaning and household tasks. Despite visiting Jisoo multiple times, I've only ever seen him once.

"Didn't you have a chef?" I ask.

"Still do." She shrugs, pulling a few packs of noodles from the cupboard. "But it's his day off today."

"Oh." I wrinkle my nose, then curiosity takes over. "Why do you work as a bartender when you're filthy rich?"

"It's fun." She stands on her toes, reaching for more ingredients, her short stature always a contrast to her larger-than-life personality.

"How's Taehyung?" I don't know why I ask, but the words slip out before I can stop them. It might be nice to vent to someone.

A flash of hurt crosses Jisoo's face, but she quickly masks it. "No word from him." She sighs. "I wish he'd man up and explain what went wrong. It wasn't just about things not working out. But... I guess men are cowards."

"True," I mutter, though my mind drifts elsewhere—to the weight of the morning's events. I killed someone today. Sure, it was to protect Jungkook, but that doesn't erase the fact that I ended a life.

"So, ramen?" Jisoo asks, snapping me back to the present.

I scoff. "That's suspiciously casual."

"Shut up and answer," she says, her laughter lightening the mood.