Cityscapes (Jumin Han x OC)

Chapter 23

Ah. Jumin Han is a glass of whiskey after a hard week of work. A walk in the park after a long run. A cup of coffee after an all-nighter. A piece of cake after a long diet. A smile after a disappointing day. A hug after you see someone for the first time. A first kiss after...you almost have one.

Then dinner came. Way too soon. I was just starting to get to know him, and now there would be time spent eating, instead of talking. The night would end quicker, since dinner came sooner than expected. The wine paired great with dinner, and now I was two glasses of wine in. One more, and I would be buzzed. Decisions would be less clear, and I would remember what a lightweight I am.

"So...what's your religion, if you have one?" he asked.

"Isn't that a bit taboo on a first date?" I responded.

"It is, if you believe in taboos," he said simply.

"You have a point there. I was raised Christian, but that was my mother, really. My father was non-religious, and...choosing sides was pretty common with my family. I ended up siding more with my father," I said sipping my wine.

"I was raised Christian as well," he said. "I view myself as someone with Christian values, but I'm not sure if I believe in a god, so much as the universe at play."

That was unsurprisingly Jumin. So absolutely, entirely, incredibly, Jumin.

"I can understand that," I said.

"But believe me, I don't think that there's some underlying force in our universe, controlling us. I do believe that we are all living autonomous lives, hoping that we mean something."

"Jumin, that's insightful."

"It's not, really," he said. "It's just the effects of living an autonomous life. A boring one, at that. Seeing everything, and having everything I want, stopped being cushy a long time ago. It started being painful not too long ago. Sometimes, I wish that I could be more like Zen. Perhaps you remember him? The actor from the party?" He asked.

"The silver haired one?" I asked.

"Yes. He is so irrational, and emotional, and motivated by selfish desires. We rarely get along, but sometimes I wish I could be more like him. Simply taking things as they come," he remarked.

"I like to think that you do. You just seem to handle them in a different manner. Controlling them is different from being impulsive, but you're still taking things as they come."

"You don't think I'm predictable?" He asked.

"I mean, I knew you would be at my house after the news reports, and I knew when you would call. But to me, that's not being predictable. That's me knowing you."

"I don't usually like people knowing me, but you? I don't mind you," he said, softly, taking my hand.

Dear God. What does that mean? I don't think I'll ever figure it out, but damn...it is a wonderful statement isn't it? I couldn't help but sigh deeply, at the soul resting quality it had.

We finished dinner, and the waiter came back to hand us a dessert menu.

"I'd rather not," I told Jumin.

"Then..." He thought for a moment. "We'll go back to my place. I have wonderful sweet red port wine that you'll love."

I looked outside the window. It was late at night. I would likely end up spending the night, and not to mention that would be my third glass of wine for the night. Everything about me though...it was screaming unpredictability. "Absolutely," I responded.

"Great," he said, leaning into his own words.

We packed up and left, taking his car back to his penthouse, managing to avoid the paparazzi.  We rode up the elevator in near silence. The only thing we could hear was our own uncomfortable breathing. We both knew there were only two ways this night would end, both of which resulted in me staying the night.

Jumin put the key into his door, and turned it. He didn't actually open the door though. "This is a bad idea," he said, before finally opening it, and letting me in.

"But aren't bad ideas the most fun?" I asked.

Jumin shook his head softly. "Don't do this to me. Get the wine glasses. Third cabinet from the left," he said. I walked over to the other side of his kitchen, as Jumin stayed on the other, going through cabinets filled with wine. I got out two wine glasses, and set them down. Jumin opened up the wine bottle with his wine key, and poured into the two glasses, both an equal amount. Perfect, even.

I took the one on the left, and we both took sips awkwardly standing next to each other.

"This is such a bad idea. Why did you agree to this?" he asked turning to me.

"Can't be that bad since we're both still here," I said sipping my wine.

"You're in too deep, aren't you?" he asked, chuckling.

"Yep, so now I'm committed," I explained. He smiled.

"You're a very confident drunk," he said.

"I'm not drunk yet. I still have to finish this glass."

"I think I was drunk before this, but not all on wine. Maybe the combination of euphoria, how beautiful you are, and alcohol. That's gotta be making me feel like this. Feel this combination of emotions I never had before, and that I'm having trouble controlling. I mean, I look at you, and that's three glasses of wine right there."

"Permanent beer goggles. How charming," I said smiling.

"You're intoxicating," he said smirking.

"Says the one who offered to take me back to their place," I responded back.

"I did that because you got me drunk," he said, sipping his wine again.

"Did you not just see the irony in that?" I asked.

"Of course I did. That's why I did it."

I smiled at him, tracing my finger around the edge of my glass. He took my hand away from the glass and pressed it into his own. He looked down at our connected hands for a moment, before looking up at me.

"You're not drunk yet, right? Technically, I'm not either," he said. "So...really, any decision we make is really ours. Still controlled by inhibitions, and proper thoughts, yes?"

"I would think so," I responded.

"Oh. Great," he said. He traced my hand with his own. "Because, I'm thinking about a lot of things right now."

"What exactly?"

"A million things I couldn't bother explaining, Miran. I'm drowing in my own thoughts...my own thoughts of you, I think."

"And what's the first one that come's to mind."

He traced my hand without responding, and looked at me in the eyes. He finally let go of my hand, but instead he held my waist. In a moment of seamless bliss, he took one hand, and brushed the hair off of my face. Then, without a moment of hesitation, cradled my neck, and kissed me.