Coward | kth

37

37 | No jealousy allowed in Giovanni's kitchen

"Yemi, please help me", I beg with desperate voice, my phone clamping between my ear and shoulder, "What the fuck do you wear to a cooking class?"

"I won't help you", the dark-skinned woman responds defiantly. I can literally picture her sitting in her bed, having her arms cross and her plump lips pouted.

"Oh come on, you're still mad over this trifle?", I ask, digging through the dozen drawers of my messy wardrobe.

My ears perk up when I can hear something falling to the ground at the other end of the line, "Of course I am still mad! You literally told me that Taehyung almost ripped the clothes from your body on your fucking dining table three days after it happened. I feel betrayed."

"Yemiii", I whine, heedlessly throwing some shirt to the ground, "I just didn't think it was that important to you. Please help me, I don't want to embarrass myself."

Silence.

"Fine", she sighs, annoyed at herself for indulging, "But this is only because I am rooting for you guys."

Half an hour later I am standing in the living room, perfectly styled and prepared thanks to my best friend. I am wearing a black pair of short, which is a little bit ripped at the end and have combined with a black mini top, the white letters California written on it. To decrease the death-like appearance of my outfit, I have throw a cropped denim jacket over my shoulders and jewelry is dangling from my neck, wrists and ears.

A quick glance at the digital clock standing on the cupboard reveals me that Taehyung should be here any minute from now.

"Are you waiting for someone?", a voice suddenly asks. The owner turns out to be no other than my Dad himself, appearing in the living room in his whole glory. He still has to rub the drowsiness from his eyes and is clothed in his navy blue morning robe.

"Yep", I reply, watching my Dad take an apple from the fruit bowl we keep right beside the digital clock on the wooden cupboard, "Taehyung."

Dad's head shoots up in surprise, his eyebrows raise. "Taehyung?", he affirms as he isn't sure of the capability of his own two ears.

"Yeah... we're attending a cooking class."

"This...", Dad says, throwing the green apple into the air and catches it afterwards, "sounds a lot like a date to me."

"Maybe because that's what it is", I reply, putting a confused strand of hair behind my ear to free my sight, "a date."

Dad stares as if I have just produced a magic trick from my pocket. I can just imagine the sparks in his brain, desperately trying to connect the dots and instead just causing a short circuit. He looks like a pop-eyed toy from one of those claw machines at the fun fair. Perfectly funny.

After a few seconds of silence, the black-grey haired man gets a grip of himself again, apparently now having processed the words which came from my mouth.

"That's amazing. You know I always liked this guy. You have my approval for dating him again", he states, taking a first bite from the juicy apple.

I roll my eyes, chuckling at my fathers silliness, "Thank you, Dad. I wouldn't have felt secure without your verbal declaration."