The days leading up to dinner with Changbin were a blur of anxiety and excitement, and by the time Saturday rolled around, I still wasn't sure what I was feeling. Every time I thought about him—about us—I felt this strange mix of nervous energy and cautious hope, like I was standing at the edge of something I hadn't fully decided to jump into yet.
I spent most of the day pacing my apartment, replaying every possible scenario in my head. What if things were awkward? What if I said the wrong thing? What if we didn't click outside the haze of that one night?
By the time I was getting ready, I had almost talked myself out of going. Almost.
I stood in front of my closet, pulling out outfit after outfit, trying to find something that didn't feel like too much or too little. My phone buzzed on the dresser—Changbin had sent a text.
Changbin: Still good for 7?
Me: Yep. I'll be there.
The simplicity of the exchange made me smile. There were no expectations, no pressure. Just the promise of dinner. I finally settled on a simple dress, something comfortable but nice, and gave myself one last look in the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, uncertain but determined.
As I walked out of my apartment and made my way to the restaurant, my nerves started to creep back in. It was just dinner. But somehow, it felt like so much more.
When I arrived, Changbin was already there, waiting outside the restaurant. He looked up as I approached, a smile spreading across his face. He was dressed casually, but still somehow effortlessly put-together—dark jeans and a simple black button-up that made him look more polished than I remembered.
"Hey," he greeted me, his eyes lighting up as he took me in. "You look great."
"Thanks," I said, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze. "So do you."
We stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, the weight of the week hanging between us. But then Changbin gestured toward the door, breaking the tension with a chuckle. "Ready to go in?"
I nodded, grateful for the small distraction, and followed him inside. The restaurant was warm and intimate, with low lighting and soft music playing in the background. It wasn't fancy, but it felt like the kind of place where people lingered over good food and even better conversation.
We were seated in a cozy corner booth, and as soon as we sat down, I felt the nerves start to ease. Changbin ordered a bottle of wine, and soon, we were sipping from our glasses, the atmosphere becoming more relaxed.
"So," he said, leaning back in his seat, his dark eyes watching me with a mix of curiosity and warmth. "How's your week been?"
I smiled, thankful for the easy question. "Busy. Work's been a little crazy, but it's nothing I can't handle." I paused, glancing at him. "How about you? What do you do, by the way? I feel like we never actually talked about that."
Changbin grinned, setting his glass down. "Yeah, I guess we didn't cover much about our lives that night." He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "I'm in music production. I work with a few different artists, help them with their sound. It's a lot of behind-the-scenes stuff, but I love it."
I blinked, surprised. "Music production? That's amazing."
He shrugged modestly. "It's fun. It's what I've always wanted to do, so I can't complain. I started out in a small studio, but now I freelance a bit. Keeps things interesting."
I could see the passion in his eyes as he spoke, the way he lit up when talking about his work. It was easy to see how someone could get lost in a conversation with him. There was something genuine about the way he shared, without trying to impress or overwhelm me.
"What about you?" he asked, turning the conversation back to me. "What's your story?"
I hesitated for a moment, not used to being the one answering questions. "Well... nothing as exciting as music production. I work in marketing, mostly with small companies trying to build their brand. It's challenging, but it's creative, so I like it."
"That sounds cool," he said, his attention fully on me. "It must take a lot of strategy to help people stand out."
I nodded, smiling a little. "It does. But it's rewarding when you see a project come to life."
We spent the rest of dinner exchanging stories about work, life, and everything in between. It wasn't forced or awkward like I had feared—it was easy. With each passing moment, the connection between us felt more natural, like we weren't two strangers who had woken up next to each other a week ago. We were just... us.
As dessert arrived, a comfortable silence settled between us. Changbin glanced at me, his eyes softening. "You seem more relaxed now," he said quietly. "You were a little nervous when we first got here."
I laughed softly, feeling the truth of his words. "Yeah, I guess I was. I wasn't sure what to expect."
"And now?"
"Now..." I paused, meeting his gaze. "Now, I'm glad I came."
He smiled, that warm, genuine smile that made my heart skip a beat. "Me too,"
We lingered a while longer, sipping the last of the wine and savoring the moment. By the time we left the restaurant, the night air was cool and refreshing, and I felt lighter than I had in days.
Changbin walked me to my car, and as we stood there under the streetlights, the reality of the evening began to sink in. This wasn't just a one-night stand that had carried over into an awkward morning. This was the start of something—something neither of us had planned, but both of us were willing to explore.
"Can I see you again?" he asked, his voice low and hopeful.
I smiled, the answer already clear in my mind. "Yeah. I'd like that."
Changbin's grin widened, his eyes bright with the same excitement I felt bubbling inside me. "Great. I'll text you?"
"Definitely."
We stood there for a beat longer, neither of us quite ready to say goodbye, but knowing we had to. Finally, I opened my car door, giving him one last smile before slipping inside. As I drove away, I couldn't help but replay the night over and over in my mind, each moment feeling more surreal than the last.
Maybe this wasn't what I had expected. But for once, I was okay with that.
