A week went by, and Ara had hardly seen Taeyeon, which was a blessing, as she probably would get her head bashed in should there be an encounter.  Besides that, Sehun and Seulgi made sure to keep Ara at an arm’s distance, though they were cordial and friendly enough to answer her questions and make small talk.  Yoongi was his same sassy self, making an effort to lighten Ara’s mood every chance he got (though she had to admit his jokes were getting worse by the minute).  Her wounds eventually healed, thanks to Yoongi’s persistence.

Then there was Taehyung.  Ara just couldn’t bring herself to face him again.  Even though she was raised in the Southern army, where “prisoners of war” was a common term, it all seemed foreign to her.  At the same time, she wanted another chance to prove herself, and maybe smear his name with mud if she could.  With the help of Hoseok, things seemed to be looking brighter.

He helped her mainly with sparring, getting her reflexes as quick and as smooth as ever.  He even threw in a couple of dirty secrets about the lieutenant colonel, mostly having to do with his bright red underwear.  

Ara sat sipping her tea Hoseok had been gracious enough to get her.  As he was talking about that week’s schedule, she could see both Taehyung and Taeyeon talking as they mixed cream in their coffee.  Ara’s expression naturally darkened, especially as they laughed.

Hoseok noticed her expression and turned to see the situation.  He turned back around and shook his head.  “If I weren’t so unaware, I would say you’re jealous.”

“Jealous?” Ara scoffed.  “In your dreams.  Serial killers flirting with each other is the last thing I want to be jealous of.”

“But you crave it,” Hoseok said.  “Forget Taehyung and Taeyeon.  You crave male attention.”

She raised an eyebrow.  “And your point is?”

“Maybe that can be a turning point?” he said, grinning.  “And besides, you’re not denying it.”

She leaned forward in her seat, placing her cup on the table.  “I’m listening.”

“There’s a huge orchestra concert tonight following a gala,” he explained.  “All the bigwigs will be there.  Taehyung, the Board of Officers, and even your favorite, Kim Jongin, will be there sipping away at expensive wines and stuffing themselves with fine delicacies.”  He smirked.  “I’d love it if you’d go with me.”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me,” he said.  “Besides, you crave male attention.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Oh, please,” she groaned.  “Besides, I don’t even have a dress.  I suppose I’d be shot on site for wearing sweatpants.”

He shrugged.  “Honestly, I don’t care, but yes, it’s best for you not to do that, unless you want to die, of course.”  He thought for a moment before his eyes lit up.  “I’ve got it.”  He grabbed her arm.  

“Come with me.”

--

Hoseok drove the two of them into the deep city of Pyongyang on his motorcycle.  Ara was enjoying the freedom and the feeling of the wind in her hair before he stopped in front of a shop.  As she dismounted the bike, she gaped in awe at the age of the place.  It looked as though it were taken straight out of a museum.  The brick walls were cracking, the large display windows were dusty, and the all too cliche doorbell made it feel like she travelled back in time.

They entered the small shop to be greeted by a pretty girl with long brown hair, braided neatly and pinned up into a bun.  Like Hoseok, she had a smile like sunshine.

“Hello, Colonel,” she said, bowing.  She caught sight of Ara.  “Who’s this pretty lady?”

“This is Ara.  She’s a…friend,” Hoseok said nonchalantly.  “She needs a dress for the gala downtown tonight.”

The girl smiled.  “You came to the right place.”  She nodded at Ara.  “Please follow me.”

Ara reluctantly followed the girl down a long hall, leaving Hoseok browsing for a bow tie in the lobby.  They finally reached a room filled with different formal gowns and hanboks.  

“Hm, let’s see, the blue goes well with your amber eyes,” the girl muttered, digging her hands into the clothes racks.  “Almost like sea mist against