4/16/2015

Part 3:

It took Jiyong nearly an hour to get to the club where Dara and the girls were at. He tried catching a cab but none was readily available so he ended up on a bus. Being a Friday night the club was filled to capacity and he wasn’t able to get in. He called Dara but she didn’t pick up. He’d been inside this club several times and knew how loud the music was and nearly impossible it would be to hear your phone or even feel it vibrate. He resorted to texting to let her know he was there waiting for her outside. She finally texted him back after twenty minutes that she was on her way out.

There was a long line of people still waiting to get into the club so Jiyong waited off to the side. When he saw Dara come out he straightened and walked towards her. He was relieved to see that she was wearing leather pants and a top with sleeves instead of a miniskirt and skimpy top that Bom liked to wear when going out. Her eyes were deep in thought as she approached, pink lips neither smiling nor frowning. Jiyong took hold of her hand without saying anything and led her away from the club.

“Where are we going?” Dara asked. She was wearing heels and didn’t relish the idea of walking far. She didn’t have a jacket either and the night was a little chilly as the wind whipped her hair about. Jiyong kept walking without saying anything, his hand firmly holding hers.

“Jiyong!” Dara pulled her hand and dug her heels in, forcing him to stop. “If you’re angry then say something, don’t just keep pulling me. My feet hurt, I’m cold, and I don’t like being treated like an errant child!”

Jiyong paused at her outburst, his eyes raking over her. He noticed for the first time the thinness of her shirt and the strappy heels she wore. Spotting a store nearby, he told Dara to wait as he ran off. Fifteen minutes later he returned with a package and he bent down at Dara’s feet and undid her heels. He placed down on the ground from his package a pair of fuzzy black houseslippers.

“What the --? I can’t wear those!” Dara declared.

“It’s better than these heels and they’ll keep your feet warm!” Jiyong answered, looking up at her from where he crouched.

Mumbling, Dara allowed him to remove her heels and she slipped on the house slippers. Well he was right, they were comfortable and warm, but she was outside for goodness sake!

Next Jiyong took from his bag a long sleeved denim shirt. “Slip this on,” he said.

Dara grimaced, thinking what a sight she must be with the oversized shirt and the house slippers on.  Jiyong, however, paid her protests no mind as he buttoned the shirt up. Lastly he pulled from the bag a cap which he placed on her head with the visor facing backwards.  He stepped back to review his work from the cap, to the shirt that practically drowned Dara, and the black fuzzy slippers.

“Much better,” he said, and then he noticed the fuming look on her face. “What?” he asked.

“Look at me!” she protested, holding her arms out to the side. The shirt sleeves hung below her hands.

A small smirk formed on his lips. “Are your feet comfortable?” he asked.

Dara glared at him.

He took a step closer and reached to roll one sleeve up to her wrist and then the other. “Are you warmer?” he asked, his voice low.

Dara reluctantly nodded once.

Jiyong smoothed his hand over the ends of her hair. “Your hair’s not flying all over now too.”

Staring into her unhappy face he leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on the lips. “You’re beautiful, babe.”

Dara rolled her eyes. At least he wasn’t angry at her anymore. “Feed me,” she muttered. “I’m hungry.”

Jiyong grinned as he bent to pick up her discarded heels. He placed it in the bag and held it in one hand while he held Dara’s hand in the other.

The two ended up at a street café where he ordered two bottles of soju and Dara’s favorite ramen, spicy noodles and side dishes. They spoke little while Dara ate and Jiyong drank. He poured her a little of the soju but didn’t allow her to drink much.

As she ate Jiyong watched her and thought about how much he loved this girl. They’d been together now since they were fifteen – almost eight years. Both of them had grown a lot since then. They had even broken up twice. The first time was when they were juniors. He had returned from his trip overseas to London and had decided to get rid of his glasses and use contacts. He also started combing his hair the way Dara had styled it when he had modeled for her art project. It amazed him to see how people’s reactions to him changed.

Suddenly he found himself surrounded by girls. Girls who had never given him the time of day the year prior were now suddenly flirting with him and shoving their phone numbers in his face. But there was only one girl he wanted and that was Dara. Unfortunately for him he made the mistake of teasing her one day when she was particularly irritated by all his fangirls. He had teasingly made a comment about her being jealous – and that did it. She told him he could go date his fangirls then before she walked out on him and didn’t speak to him for almost a month. Jiyong thought he would go crazy during that time. He learned to never again accuse her of being jealous even if they both did know she was.

Dara held out her cup to Jiyong for another pour of the soju. He narrowed his eyes at her, silently conveying he thought she had had enough to drink. Dara shook her head, eyes glowering. Jiyong had to admit she kind of turned him on a little more when she looked like that at him. Wordlessly he lifted the bottle and poured her some more.

“That’s the last one,” he stated, his gaze boring into hers. Dara smiled sweetly at him as she tossed the drink back in one go and let out a loud satisfied sigh.

“So, are we going to talk about this?” she asked.

Jiyong picked up the chopsticks Dara had placed down and he picked up a piece of dried squid and popped it in his mouth. He continued to eat without saying anything. Dara kicked his foot lightly. Jiyong looked up to meet her eyes briefly and the two exchanged silent looks.

Over the years they’d gotten good at communicating with their eyes. He could tell if she was happy, sad, angry, grumpy, and even if she was . Right now she definitely didn’t look .

Dara raised one brow at the flash of amusement in his brown eyes and she wondered what dirty thought he was having. She kicked his foot a second time – this time harder.

“Ouch!” He glared at her and set the chopsticks down. “So mean,” he muttered.

“Talk,” she demanded.

Jiyong pulled the chair by him out and motioned for her to come sit next to him. Dara rolled her eyes but obeyed. As soon as she sat down he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Dara laid her head on his shoulder.

“You’re not being fair,” she said sullenly. “I didn’t do anything to deserve you being mad at me.”

“I know,” he agreed. His hand tapped her shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sorry.”

She sighed and nodded her head. She sought out his other hand and held it in hers. “You know those things don’t mean anything to me. What good are expensive gifts if you don’t love the person giving them to you?”

“You don’t know him very much now but if you gave him a chance you might like him,” Jiyong stated, revealing some of his fears.

Dara turned her head to look at him. “Are you saying it’s okay for me to get to know him?”

“Hell no!” he scowled, his voice rising.

Dara chuckled. She knew his answer would be that all along. “Then just accept that his gifts mean nothing to me. You’re the guy I love and want to be with. Trust in that. Okay?”

Jiyong reluctantly agreed. He knew it all along. It was just one of those things that got to him when he saw these good looking rich guys coming on to his girl. He’d never be as rich as them or afford the types of things they gave Dara. But he had to admit that it did make him feel good to know that even without all that money his girl still preferred him over any of those pretty flower boys.