Every kind of possible scenes runs through Sora’s frantic mind as she runs away. Most of them are nowhere near pretty. But also highly unlikely, she convinces herself. She woke up with her clothes intact though, so there goes her biggest concern. How she did end up in the arms of that certain but most definitely hot stranger, she wonders, for it couldn’t be the real Sora acting up last night.

The real Sora does not even spare a glance at them boys, hell she can’t even talk to a guy like a normal person for more than 5 minutes. How could the girl described above be willingly going to a stranger’s home?

Sometime in her life she concluded that her condition must be incurable.

Her friends would laugh at that, her family too –if not tired of her excuses already, for Sora is actually (despite how she acts around the male species) quite an outgoing person. Bubbly, with a touch of dorkiness that people find her cute for (it’s a shame she doesn’t show this side of hers more often). No wonder you’re forever alone, her sister once mocked.

Despite the luck she has in romance and the double personality mumbo jumbo going on, she has lived a fairly good life until now.

Sora takes after her father’s artistic genes, painting and designing ever since she was little. She too, studied very well with grades that are to be proud of in many subjects. She could do anything with her life, art only being her little escapade then –as she chose to study economy instead.

But one offer from her senior in high school who works in a fashion magazine changed everything.

Back was the artsy little Sora, who loved making colorful collages and presenting carnations for her mother on mother’s day. And so true to her determined nature, she said yes.

Sora soon finds the fashion industry a perfect fit to her taste.

There, she’s free to learn whatever her 13 year old (who used to read all of her sister’s fashion magazines) self could imagine. What she couldn’t see, what she couldn’t feel, what she couldn’t be on her own; she makes it happen by writing one article after another. Yet she feels like she’s writing fairytales, one she could call her own.

Speaking of fairytales, they won’t be complete without the appearance of a prince charming, no?

Unfortunately, our Sora is still very much scared of having to face guys in general (don’t even ask how she survived her interview with her fine specimen of a boss that goes by the name Park Yoochun) and yet her every day work requires running into 2-3 hot ones every other minute.

Her thoughts annoyingly wander back to the glorious sight she witnessed this morning –totally uncalled for, but she can’t help herself either. He was that beautiful, dammit, she’d risk herself getting embarrassed one more time if that means another chance of meeting him.

_

“I should’ve stopped her,” Zico mutters to himself for the thousandth time, “has she even returned home safely?” he wonders aloud, cursing the fact that he chose today of any other days to start giving some about his image.

No enough self-beating could relieve him of this growing guilt. Towards who exactly? I didn’t do anything wrong, he excuses. Yeah, but you walked around half before even explaining anything to her, you , he concludes.

Here and there Zico walks around his huge apartment unit, plopping onto his fluffy beige couch –only to get up after, chewing on his already pouty bottom lip as he assesses the damage.

Did he…hesitate?

Sure, he’s taken quite a liking in the mystery girl, but she looked bloody scared, man. If one were to judge her by her face earlier in the morning, one would say the girl would’ve passed out had Zico even dared say a word to her.

Or, did he simply choose to trust fate?

Man, you’re either drunk or mad crazy to be that cliché. He hears himself say in an endless conversation he’s having in his head.

Exactly, drunk in love.

Zico does not look like he’d snap out of it anytime soon, not before his phone decides to vibrate in his pocket, sending some senses back into his brain in one motion. He’s screwed, that’s a given.

_

Kibum, head of the creative department –also Sora’s direct senior is currently reviewing her final plan for the upcoming October issue.

October generally means Halloween, quirky, fashion forward issues and last but not least…the holy Seoul Fashion Week. There’s even a special team of the company’s selected reporters assigned to do a full cover of the SFW, but Sora already had the honor to experience such last year. This time around she’s responsible for the main spread, cooped up in the office as her other colleagues embark on what she calls the journey of a fashion enthusiast’s life.

Kibum scans the folder in his hand thoughtfully, nodding every once in a while. To be frank, Sora wouldn’t be able to come up with anything else at the moment should he consider rejecting this (what number, she can’t even remember) revision she made.

“Geurae,” he says, and Sora gulps, “I like what you did here. Pass, but not quite.” Sora instantly slumps, her bright curious eyes dulling in split seconds, waiting for the final verdict.

“Sora, honey, do you even read anything else besides our magazine?”

“Umm, I wish I had that kind of leisure, Sir…” with the amount of work you give me, she adds in her head and opting to shrug, looking anywhere but Kibum’s eyes (those feline eyes never fails to intimidate her).

“I approve of everything up to this point here, Sora. It shows that you’ve worked hard even I, the Kim Kibum start to think of you as a threat (Sora blushes a deep shade of red at this),” he says, “except for your choice of photographer. With the kind of concept I think you’re having in your head, a younger, bolder photographer prodigy would do.”

“I see. Anyone you have in mind, Sir?”

“Ahn Sora, I’m about to give you the biggest favor anyone in this too ordinary of a fashion magazine’s office shall ever witness. Go on and speak to the production crew afterwards, I’ll contact this guy myself. He’ll show up this afternoon, I promise.”

If Sora didn’t believe in luck before, well, she can most definitely call today one of her luckiest.

_

Sora was talking to one of the set directors for the upcoming shoot until she heard the sound of door opening, followed by the entrance of someone she never would’ve expected to meet again (not in a million years).

The guy sports some fancy sunglasses atop his head, a plain white tee, a currently popular tropical printed jacket and black ripped jeans, his brown boots tapping against the set’s floor as he walks.

(Was she perhaps too rushed when she mentioned today being her luckiest?)

“Annyeonghaseyo, photographer Woo Zico-imnida. Kim Kibum sent me here for the meeting.” His deep, distinct husky voice reverberates around the room, turning heads towards himself.

Photographer Woo –who?

Wait, no, this can’t be. Sora had definitely read about him somewhere, in between her hectic schedules and nonexistent social life. She found this inspiring issue just a few days ago, thus she searched the magazine for the photographer’s name –Woo Zico, that is. This guy, the hot guy from last night, he…was her muse?

Sora’s mind hurriedly scans the set. Between fight and flight, it’s only obvious that she’s more comfortable with the latter.

But where to?

She was sitting right in the middle with the director himself. Woo Zico would be blind not to see her, and see he did. His heart beats rowdily in his chest, seeing Sora in her work attire –a preppy set of blazer and tight pencil skirt, but she looks beautiful to him anyway.

Sora busies herself with her notes, standing up from her seat and making her way casually towards the door in record time. She almost ran away again, but this time, Zico grabbed her wrist firmly and whispered, “Stay, let’s talk later.”

One stern look from his eyes and she’s a goner.

_

Enduring the whole 30 minutes or so meeting was nothing to Sora compared to sitting in front of Woo Zico himself in a tteokboki stand near the office. She plays with her chopsticks, her napkin, even with the straw in her glass of ice tea –still, nothing could distract her from the luscious lips in front of her.

Goddammit he now got tteokboki sauce dripping from them too. Like it wasn’t hard enough for Sora already.

“Do you not like tteokboki?” Sora catches him say in the middle of chewing.

“No, I’m just,” Sora’s about to make up the lamest excuse in history before she decides to hell with it, and says instead, “honestly, I’m scared of you.”

Scared? Scared? What kind of adult says that? God, Sora, you’re impossible, she freaks out on the inside, regretting her choice of words deeply.

“Is it my tattoos?” Zico stupidly mutters the first thing in his mind, and well, that makes the two of them.

“What? No! Not your tattoos. They’re beautiful, I think. I’m just, well, as you can see, a bit nervous around guys.”

“I’m not usually like this either, but you know what? I too, feel very nervous about being with you right now.” Zico confesses, his ears going red as tomatoes, and Sora finds it cute for a moment.

“You? Nervous? In front of me? Huh, that’s plain ridiculous.” Sora scoffs, not believing him one bit.

“No, you don’t get it. You…you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, Sora-ssi.”

Well if that wasn’t the biggest bomb anyone has ever dropped in their first legit conversation, Sora doesn’t know what is. Not a single doubt flashes through Zico’s warm, welcoming orbs as he looks straight into her eyes.

Nobody’s laughing, Zico, that was so not funny!

Sora ran out of her witty remarks just then, choosing to smile dumbly as she finishes her food.

_

11:14 PM     R u asleep yet?

Sora checks her phone, receiving a message from an unknown number this late at night. Wow, so there's always a first for everything, huh?

11:15 PM     This is Zico. Save my number

How did he even get her number? Sora’s breath hitches, her hold on her phone tightens as she waits for another text.

One minute…

Two minutes…

Five minutes…

11:20 PM     Hmm. I guess u r. Sleep tight, sleeping beauty

If this were a dream, Sora doesn’t want to ever wake up.

A/N : Dude, so sorry for the late update. Here, some Sora-Zico interaction for y'all. I want some good night texts from Zico too :(

Edited bcs I find some parts repetitive, but it won't change anything in the plot!