{50 days to go…}

Wooyoung woke up the next day, eyes barely being able to adjust to the light. His head felt heavy and painful. He didn’t feel like moving at all. Letting out a groan, he rolled over to a more comfortable position so that he could possibly sleep a little longer. It didn’t work, not with the constant rustling sound that was being made. Clutching one hand to his head, he got up and looked around his room, determined to get rid of the disturbing rustle that was distracting him from drifting to sleep.

He found someone unrecognisable hurriedly putting on her clothes. They probably slept together the night before. That was nothing unusual. She had just finished putting her bra into place before trying to find, in the mess of clothes thrown the previous night around the room, her shirt. Trying to keep his head somewhat steady, he slipped out of bed and put his underwear on. He got closer to her and waited for a moment, unsure of how to put this. He stood behind her as she was oblivious to his presence. She genuinely seemed like a good girl as remnants of last night became to come back to Wooyoung like puzzle pieces. She was just a bartender. He really didn’t want to break her heart. This was one of the areas he struggled with: proper communication. How was he supposed to tell her that they were never going to be a thing and he didn’t do flings twice?

“Um…” he started awkwardly before remembering with a jolt that he didn’t know what her name was. It was probably best to leave the name out completely, “hi.”

At this, Taeyeon turned to him, finally picking up her shirt and pants. “Yes?” She said, slipping her shirt over her head quickly.

He starting fidgeting with his knuckles and took a deep breath, “It was nice to know you.” He saw, out of the corner of his eye, that she was looking at him somewhat amusedly. It bothered him a bit as he kept his gaze on the floor, struggling with what he could say, “It was nice to … sleep with you, you know.”

Taeyeon raised an eyebrow. She knew exactly what he was trying to say but she decided to let him suffer a little. She generally had a low opinion of playboy heirs who regularly got themselves drunk. She didn’t like them at all. She didn’t know what to feel now that she had slept with one and had, to some extent, enjoyed the experience. So instead of focusing on her opinion of this particular heir, she decided to focus on a far more important task: getting back to her mum before she woke up.

She knew that he was trying desperately to find the right words without breakin