“Chaeyoung,” his voice is throaty, harsh like gravel as he rises onto his feet making the careful transmit from the steps to the door, as though he wanted the exemplify his determination, “… please, let us talk properly.”

He’s submerged in an expression of complete determination and she observes him, unashamedly from head to toe. Park Chaeyoung was clad in a loose, sheer dress and slight heels. He on the other hand was covered in an oversized black hoodie and track suit pants. She pauses with a confidence, tilting her head slightly to the side as she mulled the situation for a couple of moments as though there were something in the air that she simply needed to taste before proceeding. 

“How long have you been waiting?” She finally speaks, though there was nothing welcoming about her voice, “… I really don’t want to see you.”

“I know,” he blurts out, causing for her eyes to peer through thick lashes in surprise, “… and you’re fully justified for feeling like that.” 

She wouldn’t admit it, but hearing those words felt bitter sweet. The young woman couldn’t remember a time where her emotions were ever understood by him. 

“Did you just come from church?” He decides that it’s okay to speak, looking at her from head to toe, “… haven’t seen you wearing one of those dresses in a long time and you always wore heels to church.” 

“You never liked them,” she almost hisses in defence, realising the overlying bitterness in her voice, “… it’s the past, I know.”

“Only because I was scared you’d fall in them,” the volume in his answer is dim, as though he wasn’t quite sure whether he were allowed to speak. 

“You’re lying,” she comments. 

“I’m not.”

Park Chanyeol manages a small smile, despite the obvious aura of acidity that was buzzed in her aura and for a second, she considers dropping the defensive air around her, to lift the heaviness in her shoulders and to stop lashing out on him. 

And she hates how quickly she’s falling back into old habits. 

“Come inside, I don’t want your fans finding you on my front door step, the last thing I want are rumours especially with the firm doing so well,” she finally gives in, walking past him as she opens the front door, “… just for coffee. Nothing more. I’m kicking you out right after. Got it?”

“Thank you,” he lets out a sigh of relief, feet hurrying to follow her inside as he carefully takes off his shoes, eyes scanning the general vicinity, “… your home is b