Part 2

(Ariel’s POV)

I couldn’t believe this… Suga is in my house. Suga is in my kitchen. SUGA JUST MET MY MOTHER!!!

Oh my freaking god. What did I do that was so amazing in my past life to be given a present like this? I must have been a saint or a priest or something… I am the luckiest girl alive right now…

He turned to me and flashed that beautiful smile of his…

I loved seeing him without any make up on. No hats, no jewelry, no baggy clothing, no wannabe gangster shoes and outfits… just him: t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of converse. It was so natural looking on him and made him look ten times more handsome than before.

“What do you want to do for dinner?” I heard him faintly ask me.

I sat there staring at him, not even realizing I was doing it, or that he was talking to me.

“Ariel? Are you okay to do this? You can go lay down if you want…” he said, walking up to me.

He gently grabbed my knee, shaking it, and I jumped back into reality.

“What? Huh?” I asked, confused and dizzy.

I grabbed my head and sat there for a second.

“Are you okay?” he asked me.

“I’m fine. Can you get the chicken out of the refrigerator and stick it in a frying pan? The pans are under the stove.”

He nodded and did as I asked him to.

“Why are you helping me?” I asked him.

“I would be stupid if I didn’t,” he said. “What’s next?”

“Rice. The cooker is on the counter and the rice should be in the pantry. Why would you be stupid?”

“Because, you’re my friend and I saw you get hurt. And since you’re too stubborn to go to the hospital, I’m going to help you as much as I can right now.”

“I’m not hurt,” I grumbled under my breath.

“A concussion is hurt. What do you want me to put on the chicken?”

“The green bottle that is in the spice wheel, just throw some of that over the top. And grill some onions and mushrooms, would ya?”

“Yep,” he said, following my instructions.

“And we don’t even know if I have a concussion. Besides, even if I did, the doctors wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. They’d just tell me I can’t dance and take it easy for a while.”

“You already said that,” he said, raising his eyebrows at me.

“No I didn’t...”

“Yes, you did. You had just fallen when you told me that.”

“I fell? You mean outside, right?” I asked him. Seriously, what the heck is this dude talking about?

He sighed and ignored my question. “I told you that you had a concussion,” I heard him say under his breath. “So, what are we making?”

I shrugged. “Not sure exactly. My dad says that they eat it in the United States. But, he’s probably wrong.”

“Why do you think he’s wrong?” Suga asked, grabbing a knife from the block and chopping up the onion.

“Because, I’ve googled this recipe before. It doesn’t exist.”

He chuckled. “As long as it’s good though, right?”

“I guess…” I hate small talk so much…

I heard the door knob jiggle as keys were being put into it. My heart skipped a beat. I hadn’t seen my father in three months because of his job.

Suga turned and looked at the door, obviously not expecting anyone to be coming home while he was here.

The door opened, and my dad walked through the door.

“I’m home!” he yelled into the house, smiling as he looked at me, obviously talking to my mother.

“Hi, Daddy,” I told him, wishing I could stand up, but my spinning head wasn’t helping me any.

“Why aren’t you coming to give your old man a hug?” he asked, removing his shoes, setting his old, tattered brief case down by the door, and dragging his suit case into the house.

“Sh-she got a concussion falling down outside and she’s really dizzy,” Suga said, awkwardly answering for me.

“We think that I have a concussion,” I corrected.

My dad looked over at Suga, who had somehow found my apron when I wasn’t looking, as he stirred the sautéing vegetables and flipped the grilling chicken, and smiled. “Who is this young man?” he asked.

Suga cleared his throat and placed the spatula down on the counter, walking over to my dad and bowing deeply to him, just like he did to my mother. “Hello, my name is Min Yoongi,” he told him, a blush forming on his cheeks.

My dad, smiled, held out his hand, and offered it to the other. Suga hesitantly shook his hand.

My dad had that way with people, I guess he had grown accustom to it over in the West, where the meaning behind shaking hands was a sign that they were unarmed, or a more modern meaning of being equals. He didn’t care that Suga was thirty years younger than him, because they were, in his mind, equal.

“Nice to meet you Yoongi,” my father said. “My name is Jeon Woo Chae. Please speak to me informally.”

Suga looked at me, his mouth gaping open, surprised that any grown man would tell his younger that, especially on the first meeting. I shrugged at him, happy that my dad seemed to like the boy.

“What?” my father asked. “I want my daughter’s boyfriend to be comfortable around me.”

I choked on my spit and Suga’s face turned a deep red.

“D-dad, he’s not my b-boyfriend,” I told him, knowing how much Suga is embarrassed right now.

“You aren’t?” my father asked, scratching the back of his head.

“No,” Suga corrected. “I’m not her boyfriend. I’m actually Tae—”

I interrupted him. “A friend of Tae Ri’s. She just introduced us about a week ago. We ran into each other at the super market and he offered to give me a ride home. Then I fell outside and now he’s insisting that he make dinner for us,” I spit out, glad I was able to cut him off.

“O-oh,” the old man mumbled, obviously confused by our reactions. “Y-you can still be informal with me. Any friend of Tae Ri’s or Ariel’s is a friend of mine. I’m going to go check on your mother, Ariel.”

I nodded and let him leave the room. “Don’t tell him that you’re dating Tae Ri!” I scolded him softly.

“Why?”

“Don’t you think it is a bit weird that Tae Ri’s boyfriend is in my house when Tae Ri isn’t here?” I asked him, stating the obvious.

His mouth formed an ‘O’. “Sorry about that,” he said.

I held my head, another wave of dizziness pressing down on me. “Your chicken is burning,” I mumbled.

(Suga’s POV)

“Dinner is ready,” I yelled into the house.

I glanced down at the table and noticed that Ariel had passed out on it.

I sighed, turned off the stove, and smiled lightly as I walked over to her, shaking her awake.

“Hmm?” she groaned as I pulled her out of her slumber.

“Dinner is ready,” I whispered into her ear.

“Oh, okay,” she said, slowly sitting up and rubbing her eyes. I noticed the discomfort in her face as she did the action, obviously she was still very dizzy. “Let me help you set the table.”

“No, you just sit there,” I told her. “Just tell me where everything is.”

She sighed, not willing to put up a fight right now, and told me where everything we needed to eat was.

“This is delicious,” her mother said, putting more rice in . “I think that we should hire you. Ariel doesn’t cook as well as you do.”

I blushed. “Thank you, but I’m sure she cooks better. You’re just not used to eating my food.”

“And you’re modest,” her mother said. “You should teach Ariel your ways. She’s going to be such a bad wife.”

I chuckled and ate another bite of chicken.

“I am not!” Ariel demanded.

“Yes, you are. You haven’t even had a boy chase after you yet, you’re 16! You obviously aren’t good enough,” her mother tsked.

Her father remained quiet, obviously amused by the conversation that they probably have all the time.

“In all due respect, madam, she does have a man chasing after her…” I told Mrs. Jeon.

“Who, you?”

I laughed awkwardly at the true statement.

“Mother! Don’t bagger him about such things!”

“I want to know what he’s talking about, is that such a bad thing?” she asked.

“Ariel, let your mother be. She isn’t doing anything wrong,” her father said. “I’ll step in when she has.”

Yep, this is obviously a conversation that has been discussed before.

“Actually, no,” I lied. “My friend is.”

“What’s this friend’s name?” still thinking that I was talking about myself, which of course was true but she doesn’t have to know that.

“Jung Hoseok,” I told the woman.

“Oh,” she said, surprised that I actually gave her a name other than mine. “Well, she still will make a horrible wife. Her room is trashy, she doesn’t clean well, she sleeps all day long, she doesn’t follow through with anything, and she can’t cook well.”

I glanced at Ariel who had her head in her hands, embarrassed. I, myself, was chuckling lightly, trying to hide my smile with my hand. Her father was doing the same. This woman was hilarious.

“So!” her father said, speaking up finally. “Yoongi, what do you do? Are you in school right now?”

Ah… the school question. This is the one that will turn any parents away, especially when the boy isn’t in school.

“No sir, I’m not,” I told him.

“I take everything nice about you that I just said,” the mother said, frowning and eating more.

“There is nothing wrong with that,” her father said, looking scoldingly down at his wife who just looked up at him with innocent doe eyes as if to say ‘What did I do?’. “Do you have a job then?”

“Dad, he’s not my boyfriend. You don’t have to interrogate him like he is,” Ariel said, finishing off her plate and grabbing seconds.

“I can ask him questions if I want. He’s my friend too, ‘ya know, and I would like to learn more about my friend, if you don’t mind,” her father chastised.

I still found it extremely odd that he was considering me his friend…

“Um, yes,” I finally said, “I do have a job. I’m a professional song writer.”

“That sounds successful,” her mother said, sarcastically. Even though they aren’t blood related, that woman is definitely where Ariel got her sarcasm.

“It does sound successful,” her father said, glaring at his wife again. “I’m sure that you will become very successful later if you can already say that you are a professional at it.”

I chuckled softly to myself, knowing that I was already successful by being a part of BTS. Ariel looked at me and grinned, probably thinking the same thing.

The rest of dinner was like that: Ariel would say something, her mother would scold her, her father and I would sit back and listen while laughing to ourselves, then her mother would complement me, and her father would ask me a question, and her mother would take back the complement after my answer was given. It was actually very entertaining, and I highly enjoyed the small family.

After a while though, Ariel’s father had to help his wife get to her bed (because she is receiving treatment for something and it makes her very weak)so I cleaned up the kitchen.

I looked back at the table where Ariel was fast asleep again.

I laughed to myself and went to wake her up again.

“Ariel, it’s time for me to leave,” I told her, shaking her shoulder lightly.

She groaned, and sat up. “Oh god, it hurts so bad,” she whined, holding her head as she moved too fast.

I frowned and knelt down beside her. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, hesitantly grabbing her head and pulling her into a side-ways hug, her head resting in the crook of my neck.

I gulped down a bubble in my throat and tried to control my breathing and steady my heart beat. What am I doing? I can’t be doing this… I kept on telling myself.

But, my body’s actions ignored my brain and did whatever it wanted to do.

“You need to get some sleep. It will help,” I told her softly.

She sighed. “Alright.” The girl escaped from my grasp and began to stand up, obviously wobbly.

I grabbed her arm and steadied her against me.

“Let me help you,” I whispered to her, highly aware that our bodies were touching from our shoulders down.

Her breath hitched, also aware of the sudden contact. “You’ve helped me enough today.”

Yes, I have. I need to get out of here before I betray my brother…

“Let me just help you to your bed,” my mouth said, ignoring my brain. “I promise I’ll leave after that.”

She sighed. “Alright, fine.”

I walked her to the room that she lead me to and helped her to her bed.

“I have to get dressed though, and brush my teeth.”

“Just worry about that in the morning. Go to sleep,” I told her, forcing her to lie down.

She sighed and did as I told her to, slowly closing her eyes and drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

I took a look around her room. It wasn’t messy, it was very organized. I don’t know what her mother was talking about… On the walls surrounding her bed there were pictures everywhere. Some with her and Tae Ri, some with her parents, some with just her in her leotard, tutu, and point shoes. She was so beautiful… However, on the wall that her bed looked at, there was a solitary poster by itself. That poster was of me.

I smiled lightly to myself, somehow happy that there wasn’t another picture on the wall of something else, and that it was just my teaser photo and no one elses.

Before my mind could react, I leaned down and kissed her forehead, then walked to the door, to leave her bedroom.

“Yoongi,” her beautiful voice hummed.

Oh my name sounds so heavenly to hear when she said it…

“Yes?” I asked, not looking back at her.

“Thank you.”

I nodded and quickly left the house, without saying goodbye to her parents.

So, I lied... I decided to update today. ^.^

Feel free to kill me, by the way. I'm makin some DRAMA. =D

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Since I have no planned story line, I would really love it if you gave me some imput on what YOU think should happen next in the story. It will make things more personal with my readers and you will enjoy it more, knowing that YOU were the one to make it happen (yes, I will credit you if I use your idea).

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