Dessert. In all honesty, they had actually managed to make it through the starters and the main course without as much as touching upon last week. Quite an astonishing feat, Taecyeon thought. It didn't mean, however, that the conversation was stale.

On the contrary, it was smooth and fun. As if they were on a proper date. He was confident and lighthearted, telling her stories regarding whatever subject she asked, regardless if it was professional or private. Mostly, it concerned work, naturally. 

Still, there remained a tension between them. Taecyeon knew that his previous indifference to her attempt to talk it out had hurt her and made her shut off, completely ignoring it altogether.

Nevertheless, it didn't mean that he would leave it undiscussed. They had an issue and he planned to have it sorted out before either of them left the building. The strength of force he would have to use depended on her willingness to cooperate. Because Taecyeon could be a stubborn er whenever he wanted. 

"How do you like the chocolate truffles, Miss Im?" he asked in caring politeness. To answer his question, she nodded with a spoonful in , which prevented her from speaking. He chuckled. Rather adorable. 

Given her excitement regarding everything from salty to sour or spicy, Taecyeon had figured out that the woman was a er for food. Especially when it regarded anything sweet. He would never forget her delight when it came to a cone of ice cream. 

"It's fantastic, Taecyeon," she mumbled after swallowing down it all with a big sip of her champagne. "What about yours? Is it to your taste?" 

A satisfied smile and nod was his reply. "Most surely," Taecyeon said before he put in another bite of his fruitcake. The sweet taste of berries and peaches covered his tongue, which caused goosebumps to cover his arms with each and every piece he ate. 

When both had finished their plates, a waiter cleaned their table when the receptionist suddenly made his appearance. For whatever reason Taecyeon initially didn't understand, the man approached him rather than Miss Im. Strange, as she was the familiar and powerful figure out of the two present at their table. 

"My good sir, a man in the entrance claims to know you and wishes to make his appearance," the receptionist explained in a lower voice. "If you want, sir, we can send him away. The decision is yours." 

Firstly, Taecyeon frowned and looked towards the miss. She simply shrugged, which signaled that he was the one who called the shots. Eventually, he agreed to let the stranger enter and speak to him. But, when the receptionist had vanished, Taecyeon received an unpleasant feeling in his stomach. What was going on? 

"Have you sent for anybody?" Miss Im asked before having a sip of her coffee. 

Taecyeon scoffed. "Definitely not. Who should I call? I'm without connections and financial aid, miss."

She smiled, following another sip. 

Not long after, the man finally received his answer. And with it came a massive amount of humiliation that nearly drowned him. 

"Chansung…?" he whispered uttermost disbelief.

Because it truly was the kiddo who, in all his confidence and dressed to the teeth, strode towards him with along the lines of tables. Due to some ed up reason, his roommate wore a suit with a crisp shirt and black fly. His long hair was pulled back into a neat bun while he played with the buttons of his blazer to seem important. 

An overwhelming want to throw up struck Taecyeon and he had to look away with a hand in front of his mouth. It trembled as it covered his face. His eyes were huge and he stared into the table, sincerely wishing that it was all the most horrible nightmare he had ever dreamed. 

It wasn't.

"Good evening, lady and gentleman," Chansung greeted when he reached their table. 

The sound of his voice brought Taecyeon back to reality. , it was true. His boy stood next to him. As if he couldn't take it in, Taecyeon slowly gazed from the edge of the table along the kiddo's chest and up to his face, which beamed confidently towards the miss. Taecyeon was beyond speechless. Literally. He completely lacked the ability to form any words or sounds that were appropriate to the situation. Because, for some reason, Chansung had managed to make his way into the restaurant and to their table. 

"Miss, if I may introduce myself," the kid continued while he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. "I am Chansung, close friend and roommate to my boy, Taecyeon."

"Not anymore," the man hissed in anger. His (former) friend ignored it whereas his reply earned him a confused gaze from the miss. Never before had Taecyeon felt such a desire to murder. 

Nonchalantly a