*Sorry not edited T_T*

**Please read author's note later but first! Read and Enjoy kekeke XD**

Author's POV

She walked along the endless corridor, feeling the nervousness creep up as she took each step. Her eyes focused on the man walking in front of her. His black suit somehow looked a bit darker than before. Maybe it was because of the lighting that seemed to slowly fade away as they neared their destination. 

"We're here Ms. Park." he murmured as came to a halt, stopping in front of a mahogany door.

Before he could open the door, Dara looked around to take in her surroundings. She never knew this part of the house existed. 

"May I please ask who asked for me?" Dara asked politely, still showing respect although the man never introduced himself. 

The man gave her a stiff smile, not answering her question before opening the door. 

As soon as Dara took a step in, she could feel the cold breeze slap against her skin just like earlier. That same vague feeling crawled into her chest. That same shiver that ran down her spine came like it did before.

"This way Ms. Park." he motioned her towards the left hand side of the room, introducing to another door. 

The room looked empty, with very little furnishing placed in their rightful places. A large, grey, rectangular couch sitting in one corner and in front of it a glass coffee table. There were no paintings in the room, only the shelf filled with antique books gave a sense of personality to the room. The place  had a scent of earl grey tea and a hint of wet moss, probably due to the stacks of antique books.

"Ms. Park is here.." he knocked on the door twice, waited for a second before opening the door. "...Mr. Kim."

Before the name could register in her mind, a tall, alarmingly familar man welcomed her sight.

"It's great to finally meet you Ms. Park..." the man reached out his large, masculine hands. "..I'm Mr. Kim Taeyang." 

Dara swallowed the large bulk of air that blocked the back of , feeling the pain slowly slide down her neck. As if by force, her hands slowly reached out to hold his while her gaze remained glued with his. It was as if his intimidating eyes were controlling her. She couldn't even blink after seeing the man's face. She was scared to say it but he looked so much like....

"Donghae.." Dara quickly covered , suddenly aware that her thoughts came out of her lips.

"That's okay." The man laughed genuinely, completely catching Dara off guard. 

From all the stories she heard. From the anger that she could see in Donghae's eyes everytime he spoke of his father, she never expected this man to act like this. 

"A lot of people do mention that I look like him." he spoke as he turned around to walk away.

"After all.." he paused as he turned around. 

As soon as he turned, it was like Dara was forced back to reality. That same coldness and nervousness crept up at once as his stare connected with hers. The way he smiled at her. It looked empty yet at the same time, there were endless words behind it. 

"..He is my blood." as the smile disappeared, he motioned to the seat in front of him. "Come, please take a seat."

Dara forced herself to take the first step, one after the other she finally reached the seat and stiffly sat down. 

"Would you like some tea?" he asked, pouring himself a cup. The scent of early grey became even stronger as the tea flowed down. 

Dara shook her head politely, still finding it difficult to look for words to speak. 

"I'm sure you're curious why I asked to meet you so late?" he raised a brow as he took a quick sip of his tea before deeply inhaling the scent of it. 

Dara nodded, once again trying to be as polite as she could. Hiding the fact that she was completely uncomfortable. 

"You know Ms. Park." he spoke as he placed the cup back onto the table. "I'm very fond of earl grey tea and antique books."

"And when I get fond of things, I never get over it." he added, looking around the room he himself decorated. 

Only then did Dara realise that the room she was in was completely surrounded with shelves filled with stacks of antique books, organised by age from the sight of it.

"And when I get fond of things... I always