There are Many Flowers in Seoul

Chapter Twenty-Three

Seoul was as hectic and lively as New York at night – some claimed it was more so – and Rose certainly felt some culture shock as she stood outside the bar, her arms wrapped around herself as she tried to gather her thoughts, enjoying a rare moment alone. While her intention had been to head into a nearby store, buy a bottle of water, and then slip back inside before she was missed, Rose couldn't face any more forced interaction with strangers. Now, she was regretting staying out so long. It wasn't as warm since the sun had gone down, and she wished she'd worn heavier clothes. If she'd known their intention was to head out socially after the shoot she'd have planned ahead. It was too late to complain about it now; she would just have to hope that they'd leave soon, and she could curl up in a snug bed.

The last thing she wanted was for Tae-won to follow her.

He left the bar with something close to a scowl on his face. Understandable given Si-woo had ruined his shoes, and it wasn't all that different from usual; Tae-won seemed to be permanently miserable. At first, he didn't notice Rose, and instead shook out his feet, trying to dislodge the rest of the filth still clinging to them. She didn't know what made her take pity on him – perhaps because she felt partially responsible for Si-woo who'd only been trying to keep up with her – but Rose unscrewed the cap on her water bottle and tipped the contents out over his shoes.

'Hey!'

'Just stay still,' Rose told him impatiently, aiming the stream of water with precision over the worst of the damage. 'It's not like they're not waterproof.'

Tae-won folded his arms across his chest and stared down at the strange, complicated, unpredictable girl. One minute, she was calling him a weird pervert, kicking him in the shin, and running away from him in office buildings. The next, she was risking her life to save them from rooftops, posing in front of the camera like an angel, reaching out to him for help, and trying to rescue his shoes from the unfortunate mistakes of drunk photographers. He had a sneaking suspicion that the girl was such a complex creature because she hardly knew herself, but that wasn't the sort of thing you assumed, no matter how much of an ass you usually were.

Satisfied with her work, Rose skipped away and dropped the bottle into a nearby recycling bin and wiped her hands off on her jeans. Realising that she might have looked childish, she stuffed her hands down into her pockets and walked back to Tae-won with her head hung low and her shoulders raised.

'Thanks,' he said. 'You didn't need to. Si-woo could have bought a new pair.'

'I don't think he should have to,' Rose said. 'It was an accident. Besides, I knew if I didn't do anything to make it up to you, you'd bully him over it.'

'So, you did that for him, not for me?'

'Pretty much.'

Tae-won drew in a deep breath through his nose. It irritated him that she'd thought, not of him, but of the photographer who'd caused the problem in the first place. In fact, he was sure he could blame Si-woo for the incident on the roof, too. He'd offered to speak to Rose about modelling, and Tae-won would have let him despite all his bravado and claims that he could make the girl agree. If he'd been a little more assertive, Yuta might have let him.

'Aish,' Tae-won muttered to himself. Unable to hold back, he asked her irritably, 'What's with your cousin? He acts like your father.'

'You noticed that, too?' Rose asked, her lips curling into a wry smile. 'He's overprotective.'

'You must get into a lot of trouble at home as well as here, Japan.'

Rose's eyes pinched irritably. 'Do you have to keep calling me that?'