Fear Me P.JM

Chapter Forty Three: First date 2

Jimin slaps his forehead.

"Cookware."

I hold up a fork and plate.

"And tableware!"

"Really, Kito?"

"You think I'm kidding?" I ask him looking around.

"Unfortunately, no."

Jimin puts down SuJoon. "You know, most girls would want to go buy a new shirt or dress. Then make their date pay for them or something."

I pick up a shiny new pan and hold it up to him.

"Smell it," I say with a huge grin. "That's the smell of POTENTIAL."

"Potential for...insanity?"

I pull the pan away from him. "No. For utter deliciousness."

Jimin pretends to look shocked. "Well, of course it is!"

He picks up a curved fork. "Why are you so into these things anyways?"

I take the fork from him. It's thin, but curved. The metal is sleek and shiny too.

"I don't know," I say with a shrug. "But when I see a fork like this, I get an idea of what I want to serve."

Jimin laughs. "Oh? Like what?"

I point to the small twists of the fork. "Something like this, because it has these small curvatures makes you think of fluidity. So I would serve a fish dish. And depending on the plate and texture of the placemat, if there is one, would help me determine what kind of fish to serve, too."

Jimin doesn't speak for a moment. He grabs the fork out of my hand and examines it. "You know," he says with a small smile, "sometimes you can be pretty cool."

I grin widely. "REALLY!?"

Jimin frowns. "But most of the time you're just...you."

I look down. "Oh."

"But...I really wouldn't have it any other way."

My head shoots up.

Jimin is looking away. He grabs a thick textured soupspoon and tosses it to me.

"So, Master chef, what would you serve with a spoon like this?"

I grin.

"Some type of thick soup. It's a heavy spoon."

"I se-"

"OH!" I cry out walking straight over to a set of knives. "Jimin..." I whisper with my face so close to the glass, my breath condenses on it.

"Yeah?"

"When I move into my own apartment one day, can you get these set of knives as my housewarming gift?"

"You're scaring me."

"But they're so beautiful."

"Yeah, with the power to murder someone."

"Or make amazing food," I say turning to him.

Jimin points at the knives. "Or chop off a finger."

"Or dice a lambchop!"

Jimin opens his mouth, but then nods instead.

"True."

"Trueeeeee," I repeat. "So yesssss?"

Jimin smiles and shakes his head.

"Nooooooo."

And I was so close.

We spend the next hour going through cookware and tableware until we get kicked off the floor because SuJoon mistakes the miniature salt and pepper shakers as Legos.

The three of us are sitting in a restaurant for dinner after a day of looking at cookware, then scuttling down to the home décor apartments and wandering through avoiding trouble until...we fell asleep on a mattress hidden in the corner.

When the employee of the floor angrily woke me up, I think I shocked her even more when I nearly screamed seeing that I had fallen asleep atop of Jimin's arm. But I stopped myself not wanting to scare SuJoon, who had fallen asleep using my left leg as a pillow.

"Why didn't you pull your arm out!" I said to Jimin as we were shoved off the floor.

"Well, apparently, your head carries half of your body weight!"

"Fine! But your arm didn't have to be there!"

"And you didn't need to roll onto it!"

I grabbed onto SuJoon's hand as we stepped off the escalator. "Your arm was all slippery too! Sweat much?"

Jimin grabbed onto SuJoon's other hand. "No, that was you drooling!"

I felt a tug from SuJoon. "It's okay, Niki-oh! I drool too!"

I wish being compared to a 3-year old made me feel better.

Now, we're hungry and, well actually, not tired. SuJoon is sitting between Jimin and me, coloring away in a book we bought for him.

"Hey, what do you like doing?" I ask out of the blue.

Jimin looks up at me and I lower my glance a bit. "What do you mean?"

"I like to cook," I say, "so what do you like to do?"

Jimin looks away, thinking.

"It's okay if you can't think of anything," I tell him. "I've only got one."

"I like photography. And learning languages."

Okay. Have two then.

"Really?"

Jimin shrugs. "Yeah. I mean, I did grow up in a modeling family so I've seen a lot of photo shoots. I just like being behind the camera more than in front of it."

"And languages?"

"I can speak five."

I nod, then stop. Wait. WHAT!?

"Fluently!?"

"Yeah."

"Which ones!?"

"Um," Jimin says looking up. "English, German, Chinese, Japanese, and Korean."

But how does it all fit in that noggin of yours?

"I can only speak English..." I say.

"Ah," I turn to SuJoon, "at least I have you..."

"He speaks three languages," Jimin says. "Not fluently, but rather well already."

My face just fell off. I'm officially faceless. Shocked too.

But you can't tell now because I'm faceless.

"Jimin is kidding, right?" I say to SuJoon.

He looks up at me and shakes his cute head.

TRAITOR! You're supposed to be on my side!

"Why do you want to know?" Jimin asks.

I turn to him. "Huh? Why not?"

"You actually want to know, don't you?"

"Yeah."

Jimin laughs.

"So, your parents, are they going to always model?"

"No," Jimin says. "Actually, my Dad is retiring in about a week."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's going to become a photographer."

"Cool! I want to see your photos too!"

Jimin nearly drops his menu. "Seriously?"

"Yes?"

"You're serious, right?"

I nod. "Yes!"

Jimin grins. "Alright then."

I cover my eyes and smile at him.