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Hana

So far, the evasive measures seem to be working, but it was getting harder and harder to avoid attacking the people sitting across from us. We couldn’t use the alcohol technique, which was us pretending we were more drunk than we actually were, when the opposing side could see that we clearly hadn’t drank anything yet.

The waiter slides a plate of a few scallops over a sauce in front of me, and I drop my hands into my lap. The food at the Christmas Gala was always fantastic, but the problem with giving food to hundreds of people was that not all of the food came out on the same time.

And etiquette was important at these things.

Jimin sighs next to me, looking forlornly down at his own plate, undoubtedly thinking the same thing. “Shame that we have to wait for them.”

“I know,” I murmur. “But rules are rules.”

“Oh don’t mind us,” Min Yoongi says his characteristic sardonic drawl. “It’s not like we can figure out what you’re saying or anything.”

“Please,” I snark back immediately. “You think it gives us any pleasure to wait for any of you?”

“Well then, I hope the food never comes so you can starve,” He hisses back. “You could do with losing a bit anyway.”

Eyes widen around the table, and I wonder why. This was nothing in comparison to our petty arguments in the hospital.

And then something fabulous dawns on me. We’re no longer in the hospital. The no warzone doesn’t apply.

“Maybe I could, but at least I wouldn’t be as ugly as you on the inside.” Jungkook grabs my hand, shaking his head, and the message is very clearly written on his face. Do not engage.

But I’ve never been that great at following directions, and I finger the steak knife with my free hand. Jimin instantly sees that, his hand landing on mine and crushing it to the table. His eyes are sharp. Do not provoke.

“You want to attack me?” An innocent smile blooms across my face as I tilt my head to the side, trying to shake off the two males next to me that were stopping me from overreacting and going off the plan of action. “Fine. Attack me. But don’t even touch the people sitting next to me.”

Jungkook grips my fingers tighter. He had disapproved of this part of the plan. He said that there was no reason for the other side’s attention to fall on only me, even if acting as the bait would be effective. But no one else would have been an effective lure, and the other three knew that.

Another waiter places the Wolves’ appetizers in front of them, and Jimin and Jungkook let go of my hands cautiously. I simply grab the handle of the fork and dig into the scallops that have gotten slightly cold.

“You guys take mine,” Namjoon says quietly, passing the plate over. “I’ll be okay.”

The rest of us scoop one of his scallops on to our plate without a second glance, and his stomach growls.

“I thought that might happen,” I murmur in between bites. “I grabbed some extra food from the house, just in case.”

“Was it the leftover fried rice that you made last night? That stuff was great,” Jimin closes his eyes, savoring Namjoon’s scallop.

“Mm,” The scallop practically melts in my mouth. “Did you steal some before leaving last night? That would explain why the container was lighter than expected.”

“Guilty as charged,” Jimin doesn’t even look sorry as he shoots me a mischievous smile my way.

The other side makes small talk amongst themselves, not bothering to care about us anymore after my declaration. That was fine, as long as they started paying attention at the end of dinner. With the alcohol idea gone, Namjoon and Jimin would most likely have to drink for it to be effective. But Namjoon couldn’t drink on an empty stomach, so he’d have to eat. Lucky enough for him, the menu showed that the main course had lamb and vegetables, so Namjoon would be okay.

Namjoon seems to be thinking along the same lines, so he avoids the glass of wine that the waiters place around the table. I avoid mine as well. The other side thought I was pregnant, and I’m not entirely sure if that was to our advantage yet, but I would play along.

Matter of fact, all four of us ignore the glasses of alcohol, knowing the time for that would be later. Jungkook gets wine headaches and he needs his head to be clear for the majority of tonight. The other side, however, takes a few sips before noticing how we were avoiding the wineglass, and pushes their cups away.

“Are you not going to drink?” Jung Hoseok lifts his eyebrows in a silent challenge.

“Namjoon can’t drink on an empty stomach,” Jimin puts his fork down across the plate. “We wouldn’t want to drink without him.”

“How cute.” Jin’s voice is almost acerbic. “Wouldn’t want to leave anyone out to dry, would you?”

“Jin,” My mouth dries. Did he want to talk about the past right now? That was something we hadn’t planned for. “Jin, I-”

Strangely enough, Min Yoongi is the one who cuts in. “Jin, what’s in this sauce?”

Jin turns towards him, talking about the food and I exhale. A warm hand settles over my thigh and squeezes out of reassurance. My hand covers Jungkook’s subconsciously, lacing my fingers through his. That was a close call and would have thrown us off the plan completely.

Who would have thought that Min Yoongi would have been the one to save us?

Kim Taehyung’s eyes are sharp, watching me, and I feel like he’s looking straight into my very soul. His food laid forgotten with one scallop left on his plate, and I feel a little like a doe that was being hunted by a wolf.

The plates for the appetizers are replaced by that of the main course, and Namjoon digs in with a satisfied sigh. The meat is gently laid over sliced potatoes and asparagus with some kind of sauce, and it looks far too good to eat. I twist my hand away from Jungkook, and I look at the forks blankly.

One would think after so many years, I would know which one to pick. We had been instructed on formal Korean and Western etiquette growing up. Jimin, catching my momentary freeze, taps the utensil before picking it up.

Min Yoongi, with his sharp eyes, catches my indecision though and a small smirk forms across his face. Something about the situation reminds me of when I had shown up uninvited at his ball, and he had ensnared me into his metaphorical chains.

Namjoon takes a sip of his wine, freeing the Jimin and Jungkook to drink if they wanted due to Korean drinking standards, where the oldest had to drink first unless dictated otherwise. The irony in waiting for Namjoon would be acknowledging that we had no sort of respect for Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, and Jung Hoseok, who were all older than us three.

It was an upper-class snub at its finest.

So even though we had waited, I murmur to a passing waiter to please get me a glass of water.

“So it’s true?” Jung Hoseok asks sharply, question cutting through the air like an arrow.

I knew exactly what he was referring to, but I tilt my head innocently. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“You’re pregnant.”

I could hear the people from the surrounding tables gasp at the loud accusation, turning towards us, and my hand reaches for Jungkook’s again. We didn’t plan for this at all, and we would have to pick whether to say yes or no.

“She’s not,” Namjoon picks for us, and I feel a sense of relief knowing that he would have judged the situation in an instant and picked the better solution. “Besides, even if she was, she wouldn’t say so. It is bad luck to announce in the first trimester.”

With some of brilliance, Namjoon had told them that I wasn’t pregnant but I very well could be. And the speculation of that fact rose in the murmurs from the surrounding tables. Fortunately, the glass of water arrives and I sip at it, needing a break from the richness of the food.

But the fact that Jungkook is avoiding his alcohol doesn’t make the situation look any better for either of us. As long as there’s no black-and-white answer though, it would be fine. It would make me look like a more vulnerable target.

“When you have kids,” Jimin swallows his food, eyes lit up, “I’m telling your kids about the first party you ever went to in college.”

“You will absolutely do no such thing!” I exclaim back. “I would tell your kids about your first kiss!”

“The irony in that statement is killing me,” Jungkook mutters, so that only our side of the table could hear. “Especially because it was with you.”

Namjoon just laughs at that. “And here I was, thinking that in the end it would be Hana and Jimin that ended up together.”

Jimin’s nose wrinkles at that. “She’s like my sister.”

“I don’t think anyone who has seen a seventeen-year-old Park Jimin would end up with him,” I laugh. “He was a downright ert who once coded a program that-”

“I’m hardly the ert out of all of us,” Jimin interrupts hastily. “Don’t forget when Namjoon-”

“I don’t know what he’s going to say,” Namjoon interjects dully. “But I didn’t do it.”

Jungkook sharply grins at that. “Is that why Jimin has to install his highest form of antivirus protection on your computer and laptop?”

Namjoon sputters, flushing, as the three of us dissolve into giggles.

“Okay, but in all seriousness,” I wipe the corner of my eye carefully, trying not to disturb my makeup. “Jimin and Namjoon, you two have to go and introduce yourself to girls tonight.”

“It’s not the introducing ourselves that’s the problem,” Jimin grumbles. “Plenty of them come up to us. They think the dynamics of us four are…weird.”

I frown, “How so?”

“It’s been years and you still can’t figure it out,” Jungkook shakes his head and then lowers his voice to a volume that could barely hear. “I pity every man that falls in love with you.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“Hana’s always been a little oblivious when it comes to personal matters,” Jimin pats the top of my head and I swat at his hand. “She doesn’t realize that those girls are afraid of her.”

“Of me? You’re joking right?”

“Isn’t it ironic?” Jimin snickers before taking a sip of his wine. Usually, I was the one who was afraid of them.

“So you’re trying to tell me,” I try to process this new information. “That I’m the reason you two are hopeless in relationships?”

“Well that’s obviously not the only reason,” Jungkook’s i