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The first night at Taehyung's house feels like we stepped into the set of a family sitcom, where the lights are warm, the silences are filled with laughter and everything is comically exaggerated. Taehyung shows me a few baby photos of Yeontan, and then, after a lot of begging on my side, he reluctantly shows me a few of him as a little boy.
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"You look exactly the same!" I marvel at the photo as he smiles, cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment.
"So do you," he turns to me with a spark in his eyes, and I cock my head to the side.
"When did you –"
He pulls out his phone, quickly swiping through his camera roll until he reaches a certain photo. Of me.
"You look so cute, I just had to take a photo," he giggles as I glare at him.
"Delete it," I order, but he shakes his head stubbornly, holding the phone away from me.
"Nah, I'm keeping this one forever," he smirks. "So you better be nice to me or I'll have to use this photo as blackmail."
"Oh, you're bad."
"But you like when I'm bad, don't you, Aria?" he has the audacity to bite his lip, tilting his jaw upward as he peers down at me with a sexy gaze.
And I'd be lying if I say it didn't affect me.
"Yah, what the heck is wrong with you?" I hit his arm to cover up my flustered state and snap him out of whatever that was.
"Oh, you don't remember, do you?" he chuckles, setting down the photo album back on the shelf and slipping his phone back into his pocket. And that's when it kicks in again. That damn phone call.
"Remember what?" I play innocent, and he arches an eyebrow.
"You really don't remember?"
I swallow, avoiding his eyes. "No."
He leans in close. "You sure?"
"Yes..."
"Would you like me to help you remember?" he whispers this in my ear, as if he isn't already causing me enough stress, and it takes all that I have in me not to self-combust, so I step back.
