TaeYeon is early, thirty minutes early. She has gone up and down the North tower twice and visited the restroom to check her appearance thrice. Now, with ten minutes left, she starts pacing in the fortunately-empty hallway in front of the control room, hands balled on her sides in order to stop herself from biting her nails. She is a total emotional wreck today and with no JongHyun around to talk with—he is going to fly back to Seoul with SiWon later tonight—her anxiety simply burns her out from inside.

An older man casts a questioning glance at TaeYeon while he gets inside the control room and the pilot—now unidentified in her sleek black slacks, blue plaid shirt, and dark jacket—actually glares back at him. He huffs in disapproval at her as he closes the door behind him. Less than a minute later, the door opens again and TaeYeon stops dead on her track. Back stiffs and breathe hitches in , she waits, thinking the man had informed his coworkers about her presence outside their control room and Tiffany had come forward to speak to her outside. TaeYeon can barely hold herself up when the person behind the door pokes their head out through the gap. The gender, lineage, and even hair length are correct, but the age is not.

“Mister Doyle, it’s not my granddaughter,” The middle-aged Korean woman calls back to the room, eyes still on TaeYeon. When the pilot makes a disbelief face and grunts back at her, she adds in disdain, “My granddaughter has better manners.” Then slams the door shut.

The small exchange, while unpleasant, has managed to distract TaeYeon for the rest of the time. She leans on the wall across the control room’s door and crosses her arms defiantly across her chest. When a few minutes later the door opens again, TaeYeon readily throws the coldest glare she can muster at whomever that will poke their head out. Only this time, a well-dressed Hwang Tiffany comes out.

Tiffany a brow at the menacing then shocked look she receives from her suppose-to-be date. “Should I come back later?” She takes a step backward, crossing the threshold without taking her eyes off from TaeYeon.

TaeYeon is beyond dumbfounded. The sudden fear prickling on her skin snaps her out of her stupor. She peers past Tiffany, where about a dozen pair of eyes—belongs to the staffs that are almost as old as her own grandparents—staring straight at her with clear warning. Hurt her and we will hunt you down. It is like meeting the parents of her date, six times the number and double the age.

The blonde gulps uneasily as she avoids the penetrating gazes and chooses to look at Tiffany. “Can we start over again?” She pleads sheepishly.

“Sure.”

Then Tiffany closes the door, leaving a perplexed TaeYeon alone. But it is not for long because the door opens again and this time, Tiffany steps outside then closes it behind her back. TaeYeon sighs and smiles gratefully at her date, but the expectant look the latter gives her is making her brows furrow in confusion. TaeYeon’s brain rakes through their exchange earlier. Tiffany had replied to her apologetic text message with a simple ‘it’s okay’ and told her that she would turn off her phone because her work shift was going to start, so it must be something during the phone call.

I expect you to recite the line from Rapunzel. TaeYeon eyes widen and she stares at Tiffany bewilderedly. She really wants me to say it?!

As if she can hear TaeYeon’s thought, Tiffany nods encouragingly. After one full minute the now-blushing blonde has stayed quiet, Tiffany nudges her head slightly at the direction of the door behind her as a silent threat. TaeYeon knows she has embarrassed Tiffany before with her insistent public courting attempts and it will only be fair if she gets her fair share of embarrassment herself. At least Tiffany does not require her to actually recite the line while she is down outside the tower.

Eventually, TaeYeon huffs in defeat. She takes in a generous amount of air to prepare herself in getting the taste of her own medicine. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.” The words flow along with her exhale, growing exponentially softer with the redness on her cheeks.

Nonetheless, it pleases Tiffany. She actually takes her hair out of its tight ponytail—the hairdo TaeYeon had failed to notice earlier due to her attention being placed somewhere else, namely Tiffany’s eyes—then shakes the tresses free. The silky dark brown locks cascade down elegantly, not even a strain sticking out of place despite its recent confinement. TaeYeon does not bother to be more discreet, she openly gapes at the action and Tiffany grins back in delight. As soon as the exchange ends, silence reigns.

TaeYeon grows uncomfortable then does the first thing that comes to her mind; she sticks her hand out for a handshake as she mutters a quiet ‘nice to meet you’. Tiffany stares at the offered hand then at TaeYeon, who schools her expression to not give any hint of the incredulousness she is feeling at the moment, before accepting it. No electric sensation crawls over their skin, no random realization of how their hands fit each other, just one warm and firm handshake. However, TaeYeon, in the ill-advised effort she again comes up with to salvage the awkward situation, brings Tiffany’s hand up then kisses it smoothly.

Oh no... The blonde groans inside her mind as she breaks the contact, avoiding looking at Tiffany on all cost. The date has not even started yet and she had made fun of herself. “I-I’m sorry. It’s just... an impulse. Your hand feels so soft, I can’t help it.” The last unnecessary sentence flies out of without her consent and undoes her whole effort to act less crazy. With how deep she has dug, TaeYeon is surprised she has not buried herself alive yet. I’d love to have the ground opened up and swallowed me whole now!

“It’s okay.” Surprisingly, Tiffany’s voice holds no teasing tone in it. “Thank you.”

TaeYeon looks up just in time to see the other woman’s small, shy, but genuine smile. She grins back, a little more confident than before. “Shall we go?”