Screw-ups and Dinner (ii)

True to his word, Daehyun reappears with a minute to spare, patches of his crumpled school uniform wet. He throws his bag over his shoulder and we pace out of the school. The sidewalk is pretty empty since it's already eight and almost all the students have gone home.

"Where do you want to go?" I timidly ask.

Daehyun stays quiet, my nervousness increasing rapidly by the second. He's pissed. I screwed up big time.

"Anywhere you want," he croaks out after what seems like forever, the breath hitched in my throat expelling in relief.

"I don't have any place in mind," I murmur back.

"Then..." Daehyun his lips, looking upwards. He his lips a lot; it must be a habit. "I know this diner near where we live. It's quite remote."

"Let's go there," I sniffle, hanging my head in cowardice. I don't think I can ever make it up to him. I hate running, so if I were in his place, who knows what kind of terrible things I would have done to myself?

We amble in silence, our steps well-timed like a rhythm to a bare song. I don't dare to say anything in case I annoy him further. Why was I so inconsiderate not to ask him when he was free? The national basketball finals are coming up soon and it's obvious how deliriously they need to train, judging from how often Hongbin has to leave halfway during our English lessons.

A low rumble disrupts the stillness occupying the margin between us. I discreetly glance at Daehyun who lowers his head, embarrassed. I would have found this cute on some other fine, sunny day, but right now, I'm more intimidated than anything else.

My mind clicks. I my bag, rummaging through it and pulling out the chocolate bar Jihoon "bribed" me with. I hold it out towards Daehyun and he blinks at me in confusion.

"You're hungry, right?" I squeak by accident and the thought of burying my head into the ground like an ostrich consumes my entire being. "Take it."

"It's yours," Daehyun counters, evidently about to reject my offer.

I prod it towards him with a face as earnest as I possibly can rally. "My friend gave it to me as a gift. Take it, please." 

He spends a while contemplating and eventually relents, receiving the bar with a hesitant hand and a quiet thanks. He swallows down half the chunk with just one bite.

We quietly stroll to the station, the noise of Daehyun's brutal chewing and the whir of wheels on the road echoing in my ears. Both of us barely manage to jostle into the train, the carriage crammed with the after work crowd. I'm sandwiched between this middle-aged man and Daehyun, backpack in my arms to facilitate my art of squeezing and conserving space. The place reeks of a concoction of body odour, cologne and perfume.

The train rattles against the track, drone of various conversations and the periodic train announcements filling our silence. At least I can pretend I can't talk to Daehyun since my back is facing him, or more specifically, squashed against his chest. Now I can reflect in isolation on my actions and evaluate, for the umpteenth time, how much of an I am.

I squirm a little, the movement enough to jolt awake the sleeping lady beside me. Daehyun and I nudge ourselves through the sardine can of a train, heading to the diner Daehyun mentioned. It's a small restaurant on the corner of the street, obscured by the various big names and the neighbouring alleyway.

We enter accompanied by the ring of wind chimes, sitting down at a table. I reach for my bag to take out my laptop but Daehyun halts me.

"Let's do it after dinner," he mumbles. He hands me the menu, scrutinising his.

For a small diner, this place has a lot of choices. I muse over the dishes for a while and settle on bibimbap. After the waiter takes our orders, we recede back into quietness, me examining the patterns of the tablecloth.

"Do you come here often?" I ask hesitantly, eyes roaming up to meet Daehyun's.

"No," Daehyun rasps, pausing for some time.

"...I've always wanted to come here with someone."

I purse my lips, unable to formulate a reply. He brought me, a stranger, to somewhere sentimental to him? I bet he already had someone in mind to take here, like a lover. Great. Did I just screw something else up for him?

"That's sweet," I say. I survey the place, examining the floral wallpaper and wooden tables. "It has a homey feel to it."

"Yeah."

Seeing Daehyun so up close makes me uncomfortable. Good physique, handsome face, mystifying aura... It's the same kind of prickly sensation I used to get when I first met Himchan. They have that sort of unattainable feel, like no one can compare to their impeccability. 

"I didn't think anyone would feel the same," Daehyun quietly says.

Our drinks come, saving me the trouble of coming up with a response. I sip at my iced green tea, looking anywhere else but Daehyun.

"...Did you have plans?" Daehyun asks, palm reaching for the back of his neck.

I shake my head, sensing an apology on the tip of his tongue. If someone were to retrace our conversation history, I think ninety percent of it would be made up of 'sorry's, which should rightfully all be from me.

"It's not a problem; I always get dinner myself, anyway."

Daehyun stares back with unreadable eyes. Everything about him seems closed off, or is he like this only to me? 

"What about your family?"

I shrug in return and play with my straw. "My parents come home late."

Just then, our dinner arrives. I hadn't realised how hungry I was till I breathed in the scent of bibimbap. I instantaneously dig in, sighing in content. The flavour hits just the right spot.

"How is it?"

I perk up instantly, mouth stuffed. "It's so good," I blubber between mouthfuls, flushing a little at my enthusiasm.

What happens next completely throws me off guard.

Daehyun laughs. It's a soft chuckle but nonetheless, Daehyun actually smiles for the first time since I've met him. It makes my skin tingle to see his cheeks wrinkle and his eyes turn into crescents. He has a charming smile.

"I'm glad," he responds nearly inaudibly, digging into his own meal.

I discreetly