Yoongi's POV
Much to my annoyance, the image of Y/N as she stood in her house watching me leave had imprinted itself onto my brain and I realised with building horror that I could do nothing about it.
The wind teasing her luscious locks, her skirt fluttering around her feminine legs, the mystifying look of confusion and awe in her eyes...it all played over and over again in my head like a broken film.
I groaned and threw my head onto my desk trying to push her out of my head but the little tilt of her head, the softness of her complexion and the redness of her rosebud mouth refused to leave me and my thoughts alone.
"I'm fvcked." I groaned to myself. "You've fvcked up real bad this time, Yoongi." I reprimanded myself, hitting my forehead repeatedly against the hard wooden surface.
Frustrated, I flung away the jacket that lay in front of me and kicked the paper shredder in an attempt to let out my anger but it was all useless.
I was well aware of my own heart. I didn't fall for anyone easily but when I did, it was hard to turn back.
Saying that I'd particularly fallen for Y/N might have been a little bit of an exaggeration but she hadn't left my thoughts ever since I'd driven away from her house last evening.
I fingered through the file of information that some other agent had compiled for me and it seemed like Y/N had had a pretty rough life.
With a handicapped mother, an irresponsible and abusive father with mistresses everywhere and nobody to care for her, she was pretty much forced to fend for herself which explained why she'd been working as a waitress at that god-forbidden place.
As of now, she was juggling three different part-time jobs apart from a regular desk job at a small law firm.
Her bank balance wasn't the highest either and it seemed as if a huge amount went towards the treatment of her mother on a monthly basis.
All the information made me wonder how she was surviving but the realist in me chided me by saying that life wasn't a bed of roses for anyone and that Y/N was no exception.
Some people had it harder than others, yes, but weren't we all doing what we were destined to do?
If that was what I believed then why did it bother me so much to see her pitiable condition?
Sighing, I closed the file and shoved it deep into my bag.
Picking up my jacket, I shrugged it on and marched out of the office.
I had to see her again.
A glance at her house revealed the barely furnished interiors.
Peeking through the window opposite to hers, I could make out her small silhouette moving in and out of rooms as someone, probably her mother lay on the bed.
I was a hitman but I felt stalker-ish as I skilfully hid behind a wall, obscuring my body from Y/N as she finally threw the curtains open.
Her hair was freshly washed and tiny droplets of water slid down her throat, disappearing into the v of her neckline.
My face heated up and I diverted my gaze as I came to terms with what I'd just seen and the effect it had on me.
Cheeks flushed from the cold and skin shining from the shower, Y/N pushed her face out of the window and momentarily closing her eyes, breathed in deeply.
I closed my eyes and turned away from the sight as my heartbeat quickened.
I shouldn't be here.
I shouldn't be doing this.
"What?" Y/N voice disturbed my thoughts.
"Ok, I'll go get some sausages then, omma." She spoke and disappeared out of my view.
Cursing at myself for acting this way, I clambered down from the balcony and rushed down the street.
Removing my mask, jacket and cap, fluffing up my hair, I followed her silently.
It was time to get to know her.
Y/N's POV
The moment I stepped out of my house, it felt like I was being watched closely but every time I turned around, nothing except the empty street met my gaze.
Shrugging, I plugged my earphones in and jogged down to the nearest 24x7 store.
As I walked out with my go-to order of heated sausages, a man collided into me.
"Ow." I whimpered as my sausages fell to the ground, the sauces spilling.
The man looked surprised and immediately held out a hand to stabilise me.
"I'm so sorry, Miss. I'll pay for those sausages instead." He gestured to the floor, still gripping my wrist. I frowned at his face. He was clearly Korean and his dressing sense was impeccable.
In a black shirt neatly tucked into dark skinny jeans ripped at the knees and white sneakers complimenting the look, he looked better than all the men I'd come across in America and for now he was acting the part too.
His voice was soft and somewhat held back as he offered to pay for the damage.
His eyes stared at me, full of genuine concern and his long, dark hair cast beautiful shadows across his shapely face making me wonder what it'd be like to be with someone this handsome.
He was probably already taken. Plus, I wasn't in a position to date someone anyway.
Bowing slightly, I picked up the remaining sausages.
"It's okay, you don't have to." I smiled ruefully. "I should have looked where I was going."
The man held onto my wrist. "No, you have to let me." He insisted. "And let me take you out for coffee sometime. You're really pretty." He smiled and my eyes widened. He was making my heart flutter and I couldn't take it.
I couldn't remember the last time I'd found such straightforward flirting attractive, but right now it was totally working.
"What's your name?" I blurted before I could stop myself.
The man grinned, his eyes twinkling with a mysterious amusement...as if he knew something that I didn't.
"Yoongi." He said. "That's my name. Remember it." His voice was soft and I felt a blush rise to my cheeks.
"Oh ok." I nodded as he ushered me in gently.
My heart beat like crazy as he smiled down at me, his gaze oddly familiar, a strange but sweet feeling of déjà vu settling in the pit of my stomach.
"I won't take much of your time." He maintained his hold on me, his hand sliding to my upper arm.
I stared at his fingers gently wrapped around my skin and wondered to what extent had he been influenced by the American culture to encourage so much skinship on the very first meeting.
"How long have you been in America for?" I muttered but Yoongi turned around to smirk at me.
"Let's take it slow, Miss Y/N." His tone was playful. "I'll tell you everything slowly. Slowly, okay?"
