Hey hi hello! This is not part of the story. Yes, it is a continuation, a little bit extra, but it's only for those who wanted a little more background. I am very happy with the way the story ended, and if you are, too, no need to read any further. There are no surprises here, no changes, the conclusion remains the same. You will not miss anything by skipping this, but if you're pleased with the way the story ended, you may not want to wreck that by reading this. It's just been bouncing around in my head for a while, and I needed a break from the other (more, uh, mature) fic I'm working on under another name, so here you have an unrequested epilogue as a procrastination tactic.

Anyway, I hope you're all doing well! I miss you, I miss your comments, and I weirdly miss this story. I hope you're all well.

 The four of them - Charity, Jong Kook, Kwang Soo, and Hannah - actually manage to have a successful, if somewhat strange dinner together. Charity quickly pulls together a few of Hannah’s favorite foods from her seemingly endless supply of pre-cooked meal prep, almost as if she does all that prep weekly, as a matter of course, just in case. Jong Kook smiles as he watches her bustle around the kitchen, knowing then that’s exactly what she does.

Jong Kook, Hannah, and Kwang Soo sit at the kitchen island with their food while Charity leans her hips against the counter in her usual spot, watching them all. Her eyes fall most often on Hannah, her expression alternating between happiness and concern, her eyes glowing and narrowing in turn as she watches Hannah interact with Kwang Soo. The two are hitting it off enormously. Hannah is almost completely her stool, her back mostly to Jong Kook as she focuses on Kwang Soo, and the two chat animatedly with seemingly no issues with the language barrier.

Jong Kook doesn’t mind being left out. He’s focused on Charity. Every time she looks over at him, he can’t help but give her an enormous grin. He receives a confused look and then scowl in return. After the third or fourth episode of eye contact, Charity focuses exclusively on her plate, stabbing at her dinner viciously until it’s gone.

Once dinner is over, Hannah hops up from her stool.

“I’ll clean up, Mom,” she says, making her way over to Charity’s side of the counter with their collected plates. “You look tired.” She places the plates in the sink and slips her arms around her mother’s waist, bending to rest her head on her shoulder. Jong Kook shakes his head as he watches, remembering Hannah saying, “Don’t you think we look alike?” No. No, they do not look alike. Except for the eyes. Those… are the same.

“All right,” Charity agrees without argument, surprising Jong Kook. “I am tired. I’m going to head upstairs. Kwang Soo, good night,” she says, nodding to him. “Hannah Banana, come say bye before you leave, ok?” She turns and heads for the stairs, pausing at the base. She half turns back. “Kim Jong Kook-ssi,” she says stiffly, giving him a meaningful look and cutting her eyes to Hannah. She heads up and into her room, the door closing with a click behind her.

As soon as she’s gone, Hannah drops the silverware in the sink with a clatter and slaps both her hands down on the counter across from Jong Kook.

“Ok, Jong Kook oppa,” she says, suddenly serious. Kwang Soo watches with interest. “What’s the plan?”

“What do you mean?,” he hedges.

Hannah rolls her eyes. “You’re going up there after her, right?”

“What? What?” Kwang Soo breaks in, not able to keep up with Hannah’s rapid fire speech. Jong Kook quickly translates and Kwang Soo nods furiously in agreement.

“I don’t know,” Jong Kook says. “She’s pretty annoyed at me right now, so probably not.”

Hannah and Kwang Soo both roll their eyes.

“Jong Kook oppa, are you scared of my mother?”

Jong Kook snorts. “Have you met your mother?,” he asks in response.

Hannah laughs lightly and Kwang Soo positively glows at the sound.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you goofy grinning at her all the way through dinner,” Hannah says, grinning herself. “You are so smitten. You like my mom! That’s so - ew! - but great!”

“Your mother has assured me in no uncertain terms that she does not like me,” Jong Kook replies, translating again for Kwang Soo.

“But hyung,” Kwang Soo says urgently. “She must.”

“Huh?”

“If she’s… “ Kwang Soo cuts his eyes at Hannah. “If she’s… you know… then she must, right?”

Realization slowly dawns on Jong Kook and his big goofy grin returns.

“I think your mother might have lied to me the other night, Hannah, when she said she doesn’t like me.”

Hannah waves her hand dismissively. “Of course she did. Of course she likes you. Why wouldn’t she like you? Did you see the way she was glaring at you? She definitely likes you.”

Jong Kook wrinkles his brow at this. “She’s angry at me, so she likes me?,” he says slowly. “That’s your argument?”

“Mm hm.” Hannah nods. “You’ll get used to it. Anyway. Kwang Soo and I will finish up the dishes. You get up there. She’s mad now because of whatever she assumed when she caught us together earlier today.”

Kwang Soo’s head swivels toward Jong Kook, his eyes accusing.

“But,” Hannah continues, “she’s not really scary for real. Well, I mean, unless you’re messing with her kids. Which I guess she thinks you kind of were. But you can handle it.” She comes around the counter and shoves Jong Kook off his stool and toward the stairs. “You can do this!” She gives him a nudge and he takes a few hesitant steps up, already pep talking himself.

“Fighting!,” Kwang Soo calls from over by the counter. Jong Kook waves a distracted hand over his shoulder as he approaches Charity’s door and knocks softly.

“Come on in, Hannah Banana,” he hears her call from inside, and he pushes the door open. Spotting her sprawled across her bed with an arm thrown over her eyes, he closes the door softly behind him.

He stands silently and looks at her for a long moment, confidence building within him. She definitely lied to him. She lied right to his face. If she’s the one - and she is the one, he now knows - then it’s been a done deal for awhile. Since the first night they slept together. Not because they slept together, though his ego hopes that helped seal the deal a bit, but due to the conversation they had beforehand. He’d told her what he’d done. She didn’t know he was talking about her, even he didn’t know that at the time. But he’d told her, and he’d told her before she found out for herself. No wonder his intense pull toward her had only grown since that day. The cocky grin is back and spreading. And of course she feels the same way. Of course she does. She’s just a liar.

“Did Kim Jong Kook-ssi leave?,” she finally asks, not moving. “Did he talk to you about anything before he left?”

“No,” he answer simply.

She sits bolt upright.

“What are you doing in here? Get out of my room!”

“No,” he answers again, taking his time to look around. It’s a large space, with a huge bed right in the center. The bedding is pink, and a bit fluffy, matching some kind of draping she’s got going on over the headboard behind her. There’s about sixty throw pillows scattered around her. Directly across from the bed is what Jong Kook assumes is the closet, with a full length mirror on the closed door, and to the left of the closet door is a vanity table absolutely covered with makeup, brushes, perfumes, and other items he can’t immediately identify. Enormous windows stretch floor to ceiling along the wall to his right, and to his left, another small sleeping area is set up. A much smaller bed, a ridiculously ornately carved turquoise affair, is flanked on each end with bedside tables, each with a tiny lamp topped with a glaring purple shade. Stacks of children’s books fill the open shelving of each nightstand, and the bed is piled so high with stuffed animals, he can barely make out the garish purple bedding beneath. A short distance from the foot of the bed, a cracked door shows a sliver of bathroom. The one with the constantly broken sink, he assumes.

On the walls, the obvious evidence he would have seen if he ever just ignored her “stay out of my room” order that very first night was staring him in the face. A large canvas print he’s seen before - green eyes and light brown hair streaked with blonde peeking over a wildflower bouquet. Smaller canvases flank it - one of a much younger Charity and a much younger Hannah in close up profile, nose to nose and smiling at each other, matching green eyes all the more obviously identical for their proximity. Matching hair, as well. Jong Kook laughs under his breath - they do look the same, if you take a minute to really look.

Another picture shows Zoe, Charity, and Hannah standing together. Zoe in the front, her head tipped back as she laughs up at her mother, standing behind her and looking down. Behind Charity is Hannah with her arms around her mother’s waist, also looking down over Charity’s shoulder at Zoe. Everyone is happy. Jong Kook feels happy just looking at it.

“Hello? Kim Jong Kook-ssi? Get out!”

“Nah,” he says, and he can see his tone infuriates her. She scoots to the edge of the bed, her legs dangling over. He moves to the bed and pushes past her, spreading out his arms and legs as he lies down on his stomach across the entire surface. He snags some kind of shaggy pink pillow and stuffs it under his chin. “Oh, comfy.”

“Kim Jong Kook-ssi!” She’s good and mad now, and hops out of the bed, her fists clenched at her sides. “Get out of my bed!”

“Why?,” he asks innocently. “You were in my bed. Isn’t it only fair?”

“That bed is also my bed and you need to get out of that one, too.”

“I’ll think about it,” he says nonchalantly, rolling onto his back and folding his arms behind his head. “But if you’re kicking me out forever and you’re never going to speak to me again, isn’t this my last chance to ask all the questions I have?”

“I… you… what? What kinds of questions could you possibly have? You need to just go. I’m getting ready for bed.” She spins on her heel and storms into the bathroom. At the doorway, she calls over her shoulder, “Please be gone when I come out.”

Before she can slam the door, he’s in the frame in a flash, holding it open. He leans against it to prevent her from closing it on his hand. She positively glowers at him, then turns to the sink.

“Purple tub with the silver lid, right?,” he says, sliding up beside her and leaning against the counter now. He holds it out and she snatches it from his hand.

She sighs as she unscrews the lid. “What are you doing here, Kim Jong Kook-ssi?”

“Really, Charity, can’t you just call me Jong Kook or oppa?”

Her face screws up in distaste and he laughs, feeling genuinely light inside his chest for the first time in a while. He already knows he has this in the bag. He feels weightless, unsto