❛ The Prince Test ❜ ━ jjk

2| Her Son

                           CHAPTER TWO

                                    ༚𐤟♥︎∘࠾༷܂∙༚܁

❚❚ ▶︎▶︎ to be continued ━

The lady nodded and squeezed your arm once. "Did you just move to the city? You don't seem like you're from around here."

You averted your eyes, and her smile fell. You'd grown up with very little amount of money, but it wasn't until you'd come to the big city that you learned just how pour you really was.
"We moved a couple of months ago because I got the job here. Is it that easy to tell?"

The lady patted your cheek in an oddly affectionate manner. "You're still naive like a country girl. Where do you live?"

"An apartment close to the Kims Village,  Cheonggyecheon River, by the water."

A wide grin stretched over the lady's face.
"I knew I liked you. Places make people. I grew up there. I named my restaurant Jung-Gon noodles. It's a very good restaurant. They talked about it on Tv and in magazines. I guess you wouldn't have heard about it here, though." She sighed yo herself before her eyes sharpened and asked again, "how old are you?"

"Twenty-Two."

"You look younger than that," the lady said with a laugh. "But that's a good age."

A good age for what? You wanted to ask But you didn't ask. Tip or no tip, you was ready for this conversation to end. Maybe a real city girl would have left already. Toilets didn't scrub themselves.

"Have you ever thought Of coming to Busan?" She asked you.

You shook your head, but that was a lie. As a child, you'd fantasized about living in a place you didn't stick out and maybe......maybe meeting your green-eyed dad.

"Are you married," she asked, inching closer. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No, no husband, no boyfriend." You smoothed your hands over your thighs and and gripped your knees.

What did this woman want?

You'd heard the horror stories about strangers.
Was this sweet-looking woman trying to trick me and then sell me into prostitution in Japan?

"Don't look so worried. I have good intentions. Here, let me show you something." The lady dug through her giant Louis Vuitton purse until she found a Manila file.

She pulled out a photograph and handed it to you. "This is my Jeon Jungkook, my youngest son."

You didn't want to look— you honestly didn't care about this unknown man who lived in the paradise of Busan;

"He's handsome huh?""

— but you decided to humor the woman.

I'd look at the picture and make all the appropriate noises, I'd tell her son looked like a movie star, and then I'd find some excuse to leave. You thought.

The moment You glanced at the picture , however, your body went still, just like the sky immediately before a rainstorm.

He does look like a movie star, a beautiful man, with sexy wind-tossed hair and strong, clean features. Most captivating of all, however was the quiet intensity that emanated from him. A shadow of a smile touched his lips as he focused on something to the side.