Fuck it, ILY

Porsche

Jungkook's POV

"Lee Nien" I interrupted, trying to mask my irritation. "Can we eat rather than talk?"

She blinked, momentarily stunned by my directness, then nodded. As we both turned our attention to the food, I couldn't help but notice how often my eyes landed on her face, like some cliché Lana Del Rey song—"I got my eyes on you." Annoyed with myself, I shoved a piece of meat into my mouth, savoring the taste as I licked the juice from my lower lip.

Cherry picked up a forkful of noodles, hesitating slightly before stuffing them into her mouth. She frowned immediately, her face scrunching up in what looked like a mix of confusion and disgust.

"Is it bad?" I asked, genuinely puzzled by her reaction.

She shook her head vigorously, giving me a thumbs up while still chewing. It was almost comical, her trying to look enthusiastic while clearly struggling with the taste. I raised an eyebrow, skeptical but decided not to press further. If she wanted to pretend everything was fine, that was her choice.

I glanced down at my plate, trying to ignore whatever strange performance was happening across from me. The rest of the meal passed in relative silence, with only the clinking of cutlery and occasional awkward glances. I focused on my food, finishing it quickly while Cherry picked at her dish, clearly not enjoying it as much as she pretended.

As I cleaned my plate, I couldn't shake the feeling that this lunch date was a disaster. The sarcastic part of me wanted to make a snide comment, but I held back. Instead, I took a deep breath and tried to keep my cool.

Finally, she pushed her plate away, signaling the end of her struggle. "So," she began, looking for a way to salvage the conversation. "Do you come here often?"

I laughed, a short, humorless sound. "No. I don't usually frequent places that look like they were decorated by a fairy godmother on a sugar high."

She flushed, clearly embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I thought it would be nice."

I sighed, feeling a pang of guilt for my sarcasm. "It's fine. Just... not my vibe, you know?"

She nodded, and for a moment, there was an awkward silence. I decided to break it with a genuine question. "So, what's your favorite place to eat, then?"

She brightened up, clearly relieved to talk about something she enjoyed. "There's this little ramen shop near my apartment. It's nothing fancy, but the food is amazing."

"Sounds more my style," I admitted. "Maybe next time, we can go there."

She looked at me nervously, biting her lips as if she wanted to say something. Her hesitation was almost endearing. Almost. I cleared my throat and glanced away, trying to seem nonchalant. "Do you want to say something?" I asked, my tone casual.

She sighed, her shoulders relaxing a bit, and looked at me with a small, tentative smile. "I, um, I was wondering if we could get some dessert. I really want something sweet."

I looked at her, fighting the urge to let my smirk show. The way she was acting, I half-expected her to declare some profound revelation, not a craving for sweets. As I licked my lips, my thoughts wandered to something entirely different from what she had in mind. But I played along.

"Sure, why not," I said, waving the waiter over. "What's your preference?"

"Vanilla," she said, almost shyly. It figured. She seemed like the vanilla type—sweet, simple, predictable.

"Vanilla it is," I echoed, placing the order. "Like you." The words slipped out before I could stop them, and she gave me a curious look.

"Excuse me?"