“But Kyungsoo?” You broke the silence that had settled over the car with a sudden realization, and you worked up the nerve for at least ten whole minutes before you even dared to speak.

“Hmm?” He turned to look at you with his eyebrows lifted and his lips pulled inside his mouth between his teeth and you had to quickly look away from him, opting to check your rear view menu instead of look at his face. Now that you'd actually gotten his attention you felt your words stick a bit in your throat.

“Umm..” you spoke lamely with a wince at your own nerves, “D-Do I look okay for such a fancy restaurant?”

You looked at your business slacks, new and crisp before the flight, they had a few wrinkles from sitting on the plane and then from your unplanned nap in the hotel before meeting the clients… clients who were actually the members of EXO, including the love of your life who just happened to be completely unaware of that fact as he was seated in the passenger seat of this car watching you with big curious eyes and those ing lips that were wet from his tongue and slightly parted, why did he have to be breathing through his mouth right now?

And why was he staring at you?

Oh right, you asked him to look at you.

….double . His eyes were on your clothes, lingering over your white, silk, flowy top with a scoop neck and the business casual jacket you wore.

“You look fine to me, I don't care what you wear to work--” he shrugged and you felt the blood rush to your face in an instant as you quickly looked away from him, watching the road intently as you drove. His words were so flippant and disinterested that you felt like the world's biggest idiot for even asking.

Of course he wouldn't care how you looked. This was work. You were his translator and you were nothing more than a hired resource to the man who had gone very silent in his seat again as you gripped the steering wheel so tight you were almost convinced it would break in half.

“I would lose the lanyard though…” he said as he scrolled through his phone absentmindedly, adding to his critique of your clothes, “--and the blazer is a bit..” he trailed off and you turned to look back at him in disbelief.

“A bit what?” You couldn't help it. You spent a lot of money on this blazer and you knew for a fact that it cinched in at the waist in a very nice way that made your figure pop.

He heard the undertones in your challenge and you saw a change in his features. A small tick of his eyebrow and a twitch in his lips as he simply shook his head and looked back down at his phone.

“Stuffy.” He finally said after scrolling for what felt like hours through something on his screen and you tried your best not to scoff at the man.

Stuffy? Why did that word irk you so much? And why did this feel so familiar to you? Weren't you just complaining last week that a coworker, that gross Juan from HR called you stuffy after you declined his invitation for drinks after work and you remembered how annoyed you felt. You weren't stuffy. You were fun! You were young and you were alive and ready to take on any challenge that you faced. What did he know? He knew nothing.

“Pfftt, whatever khakis.” You mumbled in English, knowing he wouldn't understand. Knowing how unprofessional it was to make a snide comment about a client with said client present and listening to you in the car, and to hide that comment behind another language you knew the client did not understand...you felt dirty as soon as it was out.

You heard the softest snort of laughter from the passenger seat. You focused only on the traffic in front of you, not ready to be drilled about what you really said to him just now.

Imagine your surprise when his snort turned into a small chuckle that rattled his chest and drew your attention enough that you had to look at him. What in the world was so funny?

“My true fans love me no matter what pants I wear.” His voice dropped as he responded to you and you felt the inside of the car spinning with your embarrassment.

“Y-You know English?” Your question was quiet and horrified and his lip popped out a little with a blank look in his eyes. He watched your face for the longest moment before you saw movement as he arched a single eyebrow, let it lift and fall and then inhaled to speak.

“I don't speak English.” He said, in perfect English with his accent so clean and American sounding your mouth fell open.

You had no response for him, too dumbfounded to even formulate any words now. He obviously understood plenty and even spoke so clearly, his pronunciation perfectly formed...even in the songs he sang, the english was always nearly perfect. You began to wonder why he even needed to bring you along today if he knew more English than he was letting on.

“But...they probably speak English there, why do you need a translator today?” You didn’t tend to drill your clients so much about the necessity of your services, but there was something suspicious about this and you had a hard time letting things go when you thought you might be onto something.

“If you would have rather gone with Sehun you should have said so back at the hotel.” He snapped. You heard a biting tone fill his words as he quickly rebuked you for questioning the reason for bringing you along today and you felt the effects of the scolding words.

He was your boss, as far as you were concerned you were nothing more than employee and you were being paid to do a job today. You should not have questioned him, nor did you have anyplace to make any snide comments in his direction to begin with. Your mouth was dry and you swallowed again and again, willing the burning in your face to subside.

He was silent and you noticed he looked out the window, his cell phone long forgotten in the cup holder in the door of the car and you glanced out of the corner or your eye at his profile. You saw his jaw working as he chewed on the inside of his lip and you wondered if you had upset him.

It was the furtherest thing you wanted to do.

“I’m sorry… I didn't mean that I didn't want to come with you today I just--” you began to apologize, now genuinely worried that you had made a mistake.

“I think you would look pretty without the jacket...but I’m worried you would get cold. So you should keep it on…” He interrupted you. Talking louder and over your earnest apology your eyes flew wide in surprise. He turned to look at you as he spoke, glancing around at the streets you drove down without really paying much attention where you were going.

“Even if you do look like a nerd with it on.” He added with a smirk on his pretty lips and you gasped in a surprised breath at the sudden teasing insult. Your brows furrowed and you looked down at the blazer you wore suddenly annoyed by the stupid thing.

Nerd?!

Wait a minute...pretty?

Pretty and worried?

Did he really just say that?

You drove on in silent annoyance and confusion as his words played again and again in your mind, filling you with a strange feeling. Was it possible to be flattered and annoyed at the exact same time? You were sure it was because you were feeling exactly that. You reached an intersection with a red light and you slowed the car to a stop as a burst of determination hit you and you quickly unfastened your seatbelt.

The noise and movement got his attention and you saw him turn to look at you in confusion and you heard a small grunt of question from his lips.

In one swift motion you removed your blazer and swiftly tossed it into the backseat, only to feel some resistance as he grabbed it and pulled it back, trying to prevent you from doing what you were doing at this point.

“No, it's too cold, and it's raining, leave the thing on,” he said with an urgent sounding tone and you yanked harder, pulling the garment out of his fingers and tossing it far into the backseat where he couldn't reach it.

When you turned to reach for your seatbelt you pivoted your torso in the driver's seat and felt the chill in the air on your , suddenly very aware that this blouse had a dip in the back that went low, past your shoulder blades down to the small of your back and showed a lot more skin that it let on from the front.

You were past the point of caring now. You had a point to prove. Kyungsoo’s fussing with trying to reach your jacket with his seat belt still fastened had stopped very suddenly.

“O-Oh--” you heard him say in a low voice. The sound of surprise. The sound of this disinterested, aloof man being caught off guard by something and when you turned to pull the belt across your chest you met his eyes.

Well, you met their sudden movement back up to meet yours, from where he had been looking at the expanse of your skin exposed by the silk top.

His eyes widened further and he looked forward suspiciously, watching the traffic light. You heard him clear his throat and he rubbed at his nose with the back of his hand lightly as his eyelids fluttered a few times.

“The light is green.” He said quietly and you stepped on the gas to continue driving through the early morning city streets of Paris.

“Now I know you will get cold.” He muttered under his breath before he inhaled a deep defeated breath.

“I’ll be fine,” you said. ’And pretty,’ you thought stubbornly with a well concealed swell inside your chest at the very idea that Do Kyungsoo would think something like that about you.

“I guess you’ll do whatever you want,” he said after a long while.

He was not wrong.

The navigation of the car informed you that you had reached your destination and you looked around at the impressive building as you parked the car along the curb. The place was called Evangelina and the longer you looked, the more it didn't seem to be a fancy restaurant at all. It looked more like a cafe. You were sure the named matched the place on his list and the address had brought you here.

Through the doors you saw that your assumptions based on the facade of the building were correct. This was a really fancy tea house. You followed closely behind him as he approached the counter and you noticed the place seemed only marginally busy. It was early enough that they would have just opened their doors.

Kyungsoo stood at the counter with his eyes on you as you approached him. As you moved in you felt the warmth of his chest as he leaned in too close and then he lightly rested his fingertips along your upper shoulder.

“I have a private table reserved with the name Do.” He said in a low voice against your ear and you felt the breath escape your lungs for a second when you felt his fingertips flex along the skin of your shoulder. The ghost of his breath, warm and intimate along the skin of your neck brought along goosebumps and you felt a definite tremble inside your chest.

He dropped his hand and straightened his posture, oblivious to the cataclysmic damage he had just caused in your chest and the man merely waited with a pleasant smile on his face.

He waited and he smiled and you died and tried to come back to life.

The woman smiled warmly and you finally recovered enough to do your damn job and when she indicated that he should follow her, he just took off. Leaving you behind with your breathing that was too fast and your heart pounding away against your ribs at a pace much too rapid for this fancy french tea house.

Luckily your feet cooperated and you took a few quick steps to keep up with his retreating back. Looking around as you were led deeper into the tea house you were struck by its beauty. Ornate walls decorated with intricate designs that led up to high ceilings complete with elaborate artwork on the ceiling, murals on the walls lined with delicate framework. The center of the main room had a large crystal chandelier hanging from the center of the room over several tables covered with clean crisp white linen. A few patrons sat with coffee or teas, some sharing breakfast breads and salads.

Most of the crowd seemed older. Foreigners and tourists as well as a few locals who didn't look around at the impressive architecture as much. Didn't seem as blown away by the beauty that surrounded them, having seen it too much by now to me impressed anymore.

But to you, its beauty was mind blowing and your feet slowed as you tried to take it all in.

One particular work of art on the far wall of the grand dining room drew your attention and you stared open mouth at the scene of the angels in heaven descending on the humans of the old village when you felt a warm hand with soft fingertips lightly graze along the palm of your hand. The sensation was paired with the sound of your name whispered in a low voice along the nape of your neck and you jumped at the shock.

You spun fast and his warm brown eyes were there, too close and too much and how in the world was he standing so close to you? You couldn't comprehend this kind of beauty close up, didn't he know that works of art needed to be looked at from afar?

Your heart was racing and you felt a stumble in your steps as you tried to gain some distance, inches, feet, meters, you'd even settle for a centimeter right now with the way he smelled. The stumble in your feet startled him and his eyes went wide as his arms reached around you, constricting and steadying, lifting and holding and holy was he firm.

Only you weren't falling before, you only wanted the space. This was the opposite of space and his hands were hot on the bare skin of your back.

Your palms laid out flat along his chest and you gave a small shove. It was small but it had force and he got the message in an instant as his arms relaxed and trailed their way down your back, fingertips grazing lightly along the goosebumps they were causing and you heard his voice mumble out an apology.

“Sorry, I thought you were falling.”

“Excuse me, I will be right back.” You weren't sure how you managed to say anything before you ran but with a quick glance at the semi-private room the maître d' was indicati