They're Made of Glass | SEVENTEEN

13 | you can't love both

— ☆ —

The problem I had with Hoshi wasn't that he was annoyingly vague like Seungkwan (who still hadn't told me the fuss about Minghao) or even frustratingly bipolar like Jihoon. No, it wasn't even that he had kissed me and I kind of wasn't sure how to feel about it yet he totally brushed me off like I was some lint caught on his blazer. Okay, maybe that part did bother me a little... Okay, maybe a lot, but the point is that my problem with Hoshi ran much deeper than that.

My problem was his timing.

Inha's steps faltered as soon as she saw Hoshi. The same oh crap look that was probably plastered on my face had begun sneaking up on her too. But this was Inha we were talking about. Before the beginnings of a snarl even made its way to the corners of her mouth, she was yanking me by my hand down the hallway and past Hoshi.

I could see her force a smile of acknowledgment at him (because even if she hates him he still is the heir to the Kwon Group) as we passed and for some reason, that made a pang of guilt hit my heart.

But it wasn't supposed to hurt seeing Hoshi like that. It's not supposed to hurt seeing him holding three cans of strawberry milk which was his favorite drink and the same drink he offered to me when I first danced with him at the Invitational. Seeing him standing there like a little lost puppy isn't supposed to make you feel like you're going to die of guilt or make your heart flutter.

Which means...

I like Hoshi.

— ☆ —

Two iridescent slippers, the ones that looked like they were made of glass, were slapped back onto my feet. But instead of that white, sparkly, cream cheese-esque dress (thank god) Inha had bought me a far prettier one.

Too bad it was being wasted on Chwe Hansol.

There's nothing more disappointing than getting a nice dress but nobody gets to appreciate it but some jerk. And it was actually a really nice dress. For one, it didn't make me look like a savory spread. But despite it also being white, at least it has some color to it - and by color I meant the pink and green of the roses. It's also pretty short, the skirt stops maybe somewhere around the thigh region, and makes me look like one of the main characters in a Barbie Princess/Fairy movie.

"Restaurant's on the second floor. Have fun!!!"

I scowl at the text and pocket my phone (another reason why this dress is great: it has pockets!) and then begin looking for this restaurant. It didn't actually take that long looking for the restaurant. At the front of the entrance, a tall girl in a sleek black dress was waiting for me with a smile.

"Good afternoon, Miss Lee. Follow me to your table." She led me through the busy interior towards the very back of the restaurant and into a private room. There, dressed in an expensive dark suit, sat Chwe frickin Hansol. As much as I wanted to hate him, seeing him sitting there with his stupidly perfect hair and his annoyingly chiseled jawline made my stomach fill with butterflies. His gaze flew up from the menu and immediately landed on mine. I swallowed, bowing my head slightly before taking shaky steps towards my chair.

Time to set forth my brilliant plan.

Cue the evil laughter.

Before Hansol could even utter out a word, I plopped down in my seat (while slouching of course) and reached over towards the plate of hors d'oeuvres. He watched as I popped one in my mouth, chewing loudly and obnoxiously with my mouth slightly open (the horror) while he cringed. Bad table manners, as I was told by Inha, were probably one of the most disgusting things a person could have. That and bad skin (which was told to me by Hyemi). Apparently, now I had both.