In a long sleeve, -pink dress, you waited outside the restaurant for yet another fake date.  Your hair was gathered into a messy side fishtail braid.  You didn’t even bother going into the restaurant, knowing full well that you have arrived first yet again.  Bored, your lips smacked together into a thin line as you pointlessly kicked at the invisible dust on the concrete pavement. 

A red Mercedes stopped in front of you.  The driver hastily came out of the car, his arms in the air, and apologies spurting out of his lips.  You looked at him with a tired expression.

“Hey…” he greeted.

Uncrossing your arms, you responded with a lazy wave. 

“Why are you waiting here?  Let’s go in,” he motioned for you to enter the restaurant. 

“What’s the point?” you asked, stubbornly standing still.

“What do you mean, ‘What’s the point?’?  The point is that we should conquer world hunger by first curing our own stomachs.  Come on,” he said, dragging you into the restaurant. 

You flung his grip off.

“You can cure your stomach with Sohee.  Let’s just meet back here in a few hours,” you quipped, turning around to leave.

Jongin rolled his eyes and grabbed you by the arm.

“I can meet her on my own time.  Now, let’s eat,” he reasoned, pushing you into the restaurant.

You threw your head back and surrendered. 

As soon as you were at the table, you folded your arms and planted your heavy head onto the table.  Kim Jongin looked at you bemused.  He knocked on the glass surface next to your buried face.         

“What’s wrong with you today?” he asked.

“Nothing, just tired,” you mumbled, not looking up. 

The waitress strolled over to take your orders but you remained faceplanted onto the table.  It didn’t matter anyway…you know because she never gave you an ounce of attention.  Jongin would order for you so why use up precious energy? 

For the next few minutes, you didn’t move a single finger.  You’re so still that you almost drifted off to sweet slumber.  Suddenly, a sweet aroma travelled up your nostrils.  Furrowing your eyebrows, you finally caved in and looked up.  You gasped, your eyes twinkling at the sight of a sweet potato pie.  Kim Jongin smirked at your reaction. 

Picking up a fork, you cheerfully said, “Omgosh!  I haven’t had these ever since…” your voice slowly diminished, “ever since…”

Jongin looked up from his desert to ask, “Ever since what?” 

Frowning, you shook your head and replied, “Nothing.”

He eyed you suspiciously but didn’t question you anymore. 

The soft texture of the pie melted into your mouth like cotton candy.  The crisp crust complimented the softer core, creating a perfect balance.  Before you knew it, you had gobbled up the entire slice in under a minute.  With a frown, you dropped your fork onto the table. 

“Want another slice?” your date asked but you shook your head.

Suddenly, he leaned forward against the table.  You reflexively backed away but he held you by the chin.  Your body froze in place.  What in the world are you doing?  He his thumb across your lip, wiping away a residue of whip cream.  You gulped, hanging your head to hide your growing blush. 

“Do you want to go watch a movie or something?” Jongin asked, interrupting the loud thumping of your heart. 

Keeping your composure, you responded, “Nah.  Sounds like something you should do with yo