There are Many Flowers in Seoul

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Having grown up in a house thanks, in part, to her parents' wealth, Rose had expected that Tae-won would enjoy the same luxury. Instead, he drove through the rain-washed streets and turned into an underground parking area beneath an apartment block. While it looked modern and clean from the outside, it wasn't in an affluent part of the city and most of the cars tucked into their spots in the parking bays were large enough for family use rather than trendy, high-end sports models. Tae-won didn't say anything about the nature of his living arrangements – such as why he'd elected to live in a normal apartment building rather than one full of celebrities with terrifying security guards on every door – and backed into a reserved space. The engine shut off, he looked Rose up and down. The girl had her arms wrapped around herself in a bid to cover up and to save herself from the chill which had permeated every inch of her body.

'Come on,' he said, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening his door, 'you need to change your clothes.'

'I don't have any spare,' she replied, her voice quivering.

'I'll find you something.'

They ascended through the building in an elevator which was, thankfully, empty but for them. Rose looked down at her feet where a puddle was forming beneath her, her clothes dripping ceaselessly onto the ground. Tae-won either didn't notice or didn't want to embarrass her by noting on the mess she was causing. Either way, Rose was glad. She felt guilty enough for leaving a pool of water that someone might slip and hurt themselves on. If she had anything dry with her she'd have used it to mop it up, but all her clothes were as sodden as the floor. The doors opened and when she hesitated Tae-won grasped Rose by the wrist and dragged her out into the hall.

It was a clean corridor with polished tan tiles on the floor and white walls. Round lights set into the centre of the ceiling gave everything a crisp white glow, and Tae-won walked to the end of the hall to a wide door with a keypad lock. Shielding the pad with his body so Rose couldn't see the passcode, Tae-won tapped in six digits and an electronic beep sounded before the click of the bolt sliding back. He pushed down the handle and, before she knew it, Rose was standing in the entryway of Tae-won's apartment.

Tae-won's apartment.

There was no Yuta here to save her, and no Si-woo to make her feel at ease. Hell, even Hitomi would have been able to scare Tae-won off doing anything to Rose while they were alone, and the girl wished she had one other person present to spare her the agony of being alone with a man she loathed. Oblivious to her internal panic, Tae-won opened the tall shoe closet by the door and dropped his shoes inside. Rose knew the procedure – she was Japanese, after all – and kicked off her trainers, nudging them toward the door so they wouldn't be in anyone's way. The fabric sank inwards and the laces hung limp and sad beside them. It would be a miracle if they dried before Rose next had to wear them.

It occurred to her then that she hadn't thought to ask Tae-won just how long he thought she was going to be staying with him. She assumed it would be either until her phone was dry enough that she could call Yuta, or until they got online and found the building address. Rose was certain she'd recognise the street if she saw it on a map search and was willing to trawl through pictures of the entire city if it meant she'd be home and with her friends before midnight.

'You can take a bath,' Tae-won said, stepping onto the light wooden floor. 'I'll find you something to wear.'

Rose's arms shot back up to wrap around her chest self-consciously. 'A bath? Here? In your bathroom?'

Tae-won smirked. 'What did I tell you in the car? Besides, you're no fun if you're sick.'

'Fun?'