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"Where are you going?"

Namjoon's eyes flitted up to meet his son's through the mirror's reflection. Then, he glanced at his dark jeans and his slim-fitted shirt, topped with a light denim jacket.

"I told you," he said slowly, "I have an event to attend to. Big guy stuff."

"Is that why you're looking so dressed up?" Daejung definitely did not look convinced and sometimes, Namjoon just wish he wasn't so bright.

"Yes," he replied, although it didn't sound convincing at all.

He watched his son eyeing him for a moment, face filled with suspicion, before a knock resounded from outside.

"Uncle Seok!" The young boy practically tumbled over his chair as he quickly scrambled for the door, revealing a slim man decked in black gym attire and a gorgeous smile that brightened upon seeing Daejung's face.

"My, you become taller every time I see you, Dae," his voice was a light timbre that rumbled against the child's head when he hugged him tight.

Hoseok had always been a part of Namjoon's life for as long as Daejung could remember, and boy was he glad for it, for his father was sometimes not the wisest or cleverest of humans. But Hoseok had always been there, helping out and babysitting Daejung whenever he could, spending the weekend with the young boy when his father had to pick up extra shifts to make ends meet. It was needless to say that Daejung admired him greatly.

"Thanks for coming," Namjoon turned to the new arrival, who didn't hesitate to make himself comfortable on their tiny couch.

"Don't you look dashing," Hoseok sent him an approved look, which exploded into laughter when the latter's face turned red, "bet your date is going to love it."

"Date?" Daejung piped up, "you're going on a date? Why didn't you tell me?!"

Namjoon threw his friend a glare, which he happily returned with a grin of his own, "thanks, Hoseok. What do you not understand by subtle?"

"Oh come on, Namjoon. The kid has the right to know who you decide to go see in your spare time," Hoseok ruffled Daejung's hair when the child leaned against his side, "plus, I think he'd like her," he winked.

That was enough to spark his son's curiosity even more, who jumped up with a gasp, "is it Miss Xiao?! Are you going on a date with Miss Xiao?!"

Namjoon's face blossomed with pink, "Hoseok!'

"What? He would've found out sooner or later."

"That's not the point! You--" Namjoon stopped in mid-sentence the moment his eyes landed on the clock hanging upon the wall, before he started scrambling for his wallet, ", I'm going to be late. I gotta go."

"Are you and Miss Xiao going to eat dinner?" Daejung followed him around as he tucked his wallet into his pants, quickly straightened his shirt and slipped on his jean jacket, grabbed onto his motorcycle boots, "are you and Miss Xiao going to kiss?! Can I tell my friends?!"

"Daejung, nobody is kissing," Namjoon wanted nothing more than to shoot down his friend with a waterfall of fruitful vocabulary that would do nothing good to his child's ears, but he restrained himself by settling for a scowl instead.

Quickly lacing up his boots, he bent down so that Daejung could give him a goodbye kiss. He ruffled his hair when he stood back up, "be good with Uncle Seok, okay Dae?"

"I am always good."

"Sure, sure."

"Have fun!" Hoseok bellowed as Namjoon slipped out the front door, his voice following him into the corridor, "but not too much fun!"

Hoseok was going to know what revenge tasted like, especially when served piping hot.

But right now, there was no time to waste as the single father made his way to the art exhibition that Meilyn had shyly mentioned they should visit before having their dinner as a kind of payment for having taken care of Daejung that day. Namjoon had a feeling that there was much more than just thankfulness involved and if he were to be honest with himself, Meilyn Xiao was the type of woman that, despite not having struck him at first glance, had a charm that unconsciously pulled him to her, a charm that he couldn't resist.

He wasn't sure whether it was the way she held herself, or the fact that there was a gentleness about her, particularly with kids. Of course it was part of her job description, but she handled situations involving children so well that he couldn't help comparing what his ex-wife had been like whenever Daejung would be found throwing tantrums.

"Dinner?" her voice had sounded unsure over the phone, "I'd--I'd like that very much, Mr. Kim."

"Please call me Namjoon," he had chuckled, already imagining her flushed cheeks, "and yes, just consider that as a thank-you for having looked after Daejung that day. I couldn't be grateful enough."

"It really was nothing," she murmured quietly.

"In any case, I insist," he paused, before adding, "have you ever had Gabe's food before?"

"Gabe's? No, I don't think I've heard of that restaurant."

"Do you like Vietnamese food?"

"I love viet food."

"great then," he hadn't realized he'd started grinning from ear to ear, "how about we meet there at seven this Friday? I'll send you the address."

Finding the art exhibition was easy enough, for it was placed right on the opposite of Gabe's restaurant, and as Namjoon ducked through the clear, transparent glass doors, he caught sight of her figure, turned away from him and her phone in hand. Her hair, which was usually up in a tight bun, was hanging loose around her shoulders, giving her a much more feminine air. She was dressed in a dark jeans-- just like he was-- and a beige turtleneck sweater with white sneakers. It was a stark contrast to the female teacher he was so used to seeing on an everyday basis, usually decked in black slacks and a boring white shirt, ballet flats to match.

Dressed in such a manner, it made her appear more youthful, and Namjoon wondered briefly how old she was. She couldn't be any younger than he was, considering that teachers had numerous years to undergo as trainees before officially bearing that prestigious title.

Her brown eyes lit up upon noticing his figure, and she waved slightly, almost shyly.

"Hey," he smiled and tried not to let nervousness take over, "sorry, did you wait long?"

She shook her head, "I came just about two minutes ago," then, glancing over at the exhibition, she looked back up at him with a shy smile of her own, "shall we?"

The first ten minutes were spent in quiet conversation as they strolled from piece to piece, admiring artistic techniques and humming in agreement on the works they thought suited the theme of the particular exhibition, which was titled "New World."

It was hard to discern whether Meilyn was genuinely interested in the pieces, for while most were quite intricate and intriguing to admire, some clearly did not make any sense to him. Namjoon liked to think of himself as someone who enjoyed the arts greatly, but that didn't mean that he wasn't confused about art most often than not.

So when they came upon a seemingly blank canvas, Namjoon was more confused than ever.

He risked a glance at Meilyn's face, whose eyebrows were furrowed in what he guessed was concentration.

"So what do you think of this one?" he asked.

She glanced at him. He glanced back.

And then she snorted.

Namjoon blinked, gaping at her in surprise and not quite sure whether she was laughing because of how dumb his question was or because of just him.

"I'm--Oh my gosh--I'm so sorry--" she bit her lip in an attempt to stem her laughter, nose crinkling up in that adorable way of hers that caused his heart to flutter in his chest.

"I mean, I totally get the--" she motioned towards the canvas, "the...blankness?"

Namjoon couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. She joined in and they kept giggling like little kids, before moving away when one of the passerby's shot them narrow glares.

"I didn't know whether you were being serious or not," Namjoon said as he steered her away, a hand on the small of her back. He risked a glance at the people around them and quickly looked away with a small chuckle, "one thing's for sure, I think we should probably get out of here before they kick us out."

"Honestly though! A blank canvas?"

He grinned, "to be fair, it had white paint on it."

"And here I thought I understood art."

"Oh trust me, most of us never do."

They grinned at each other and Namjoon felt the remaining tension leave his body. This felt exactly like how two friends would hang out. In this particular moment, he was nothing more than a man, spending time with a woman who was turning out to be so much more than what he'd initially thought to be.

The stream of chatter continued on throughout their dinner. They shared some fresh Vietnamese spring rolls, ordered their bowls of Pho half an hour later than they were supposed to because they were talking too much, and actually learnt about their lives. Namjoon got to peek into Meilyn's mind, into her past ambition of wanting to help out children, the struggles she went through during university life and how she had almost given up halfway through due to the fear of failure.

"I wish I could go back and tell my younger self that I shouldn't worry too much," Meilyn said through a mouthful of noodles, "I was so stressed about what would happen after school. I barely enjoyed my college days."

Namjoon hadn't planned on allowing her to step into his most intimate memories, wasn't keen for people to pity him or see him in a different light. But somehow, being around Meilyn brought out his confidence, made him feel at ease in his own skin.

So he told her; told her how he was halfway through his university degree as an English Literature Major when his world turned upside down. How he made his girlfriend, who was a Med student, pregnant at the tender age of nineteen, and how from then onwards, it had been like walking through hellfire. His responsibility as a father, as the breadwinner of a family he'd suddenly created, fell upon his shoulders at the same time he decided to quit University. He would take care of her so that she could thrive and fulfill her dreams, would sacrifice himself for her happiness because he was responsible for it all.

But his girlfriend's initial gratefulness at his sacrifice hadn't been enough. After Daejung was born, fights broke out more often and she'd be found storming out of the flat, failing her exams twice until she had no money left to pay for her tuition. That was when the drinking had begun, when she started bringing men in when Namjoon was out of the house taking extra shifts to make ends meet.

And he would have never known if it wasn't for Daejung, who spilled the beans one night as they were having dinner.

He didn't dare meet Meilyn's eyes when he was done. His throat felt scratchy, prickling with restrained tears as the memories washed through him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured in the silence that followed, "I shouldn't have said--"

"Don't apologize," Meilyn interrupted, "please. That's--It's not your fault."

He lifted his eyes to hers and noticed the softest glimmer of sympathy that echoed through her gaze. It was a look of understanding, a look that spoke volumes of what she couldn't voice out loud.

A rush of gratefulness filled his chest.

He averted his eyes then before his cheeks heated up in embarrassment, "It's really not the best story to tell, really, and Daejung--I can't help but feel sorry towards him."

"The children always have it rough, don't they?" Her voice was gentle, kind, "but for what it's worth, Daejung is an amazing young boy and I don't think he'd be that way if he didn't have such an amazing father."

"I--you don't have to--to say that," his hand scratched the back of his head, cheeks burning, "I wasn't looking to put you in such a--"

"You're not, Namjoon," she paused, "Daejung, he's so bright, very attentive to things, more mature than his peers. That's not something that should be overlooked, especially at his age."

He didn't know what to say, what to do in such a situation. He swore he could practically feel the heat vibrating through his entire body. Ducking, he mumbled a soft, "thank you."

"He talks a lot about you, you know."

His brows shot up, "really?"

"Yeah, he constantly tells me that you work too hard."

"What? He does?"

She hummed in response and a small smile danced across her lips, eyes now shining with amusement behind her rim of her cup, "it's always 'dad always tells me' and 'dad would do this'. I don't know if you know this, but we had a presentation about parents the other day, and he did this speech about you," she took a sip of her water, "you're his hero." 

The fire of happiness erupted through Namjoon, so bright and filled with life that he couldn't stop the grin that slowly broke across his face like the sun breaking through a stormy sky.

He insisted on paying for the dinner (it had been his idea after all) before accompanying her back to her flat. The night was cooler than most, a slight chill in the air that caused Meilyn to bunch her fists inside her sweater sleeves in an attempt to keep warm. She kept on glancing back and forth towards the young father's face, her thoughts drifting back to the way his voice broke when he'd explained his situation. She couldn't even fathom taking care of a child when she couldn't even take care of herself, and on top of it all, to have her significant other walk out on her? No way. She would've probably already be hanging on by a wire at this point.

But Namjoon, he was so strong. So dependable. The way he spoke about his problems didn't seem like issues at all. He had such a soothing alto, one that was as smooth as velvet and coated her muscles in a relaxing lullaby that made Meilyn want to close her eyes and sway to the melody of his soft tenor.

"You're allergic to salmon?" the man groaned and shoved his hands into his jean jacket pockets, "what a miserable life you must be living."

"Excuse me, I think I'm living a pretty good life," Meilyn retorted with a playful shove.

"Does this mean you can't eat sushi at all? That must be so sad. Did you try?"

"Oh no. Last time I tried eating sushi, my eyes were the size of golf balls and I was throwing up so bad that I couldn't get out of bed the next day."

"Jesus, that sounds downright murderous."

"Oh, I guess that's me," Meilyn noticed the familiar set of stone steps leading up to her quaint little flat. She turned to Namjoon and allowed herself to relish in the soft limelight cascading over his features, before asking, "would you like to drop in for coffee?"

A flicker of hesitation danced across his face. And then, it was gone as soon as it had come. He shook his head with a soft sigh, "it's late. I should probably go back because my friend is babysitting Daejung."

"Oh of course," she hurriedly said, wanting to slap herself for being so downright obvious and desperate. And plus, he was a hot single dad. Who wouldn't want him? This was a dinner that was the result of a favour, nothing more. It was definitely not a date and Meilyn would be stupid to think that he'd even think of starting anything with his son's grade teacher--"

"Meilyn?"

"Huh?" his words snapped her right back out of her thoughts, and she blinked at him with a sheepish smile, "sorry, I didn't catch that. What were you saying?"

"I was just--uhm--wondering whether you--whether you'd like to, you know," ducking his head and averting his eyes to the ground for a moment, he glanced back up, a dust of peony pink on his cheeks and a dimpled smile flashing her way, "it'd be nice...if we could do this again."

parted in surprise, "I--yes. It would. Be nice."

She hoped he didn't notice how red she had become. She could feel the heat simmering underneath her skin.

Meilyn looked down at the ground to focus on his black motorcycle boots instead. When she spoke again, her voice was the softest murmur, "that would be nice."

A beat of silence passed where no one said anything. No one moved, dared break the magical spell that was cast over the pair like a blanket of warm fuzzy feelings that trapped them in a little world of their own.

Meilyn's heart was beating like a hummingbird flapping against her chest and she hoped that Namjoon couldn't hear the inner dilemma screaming through her head.

A gentle touch, like the caress of a rain drop, tilted her chin upwards. Her eyes met his dark chocolate orbs, a silent gasp falling from her parted lips at the intensity she found there.

Then, slowly, oh so slowly, the man dipped his head down, leaning close to press a soft kiss upon her cheek.

"Thank you for tonight," his murmur washed over her face, the smell of mint and aftershave that had her reeling for more. Her hands ached to snatch him right back over and crash their lips into a sinful kiss.

But of course, she didn't do that.

Instead, she gazed at him, still not quite over his small kiss (it was only a peck on the cheek, jesus christ Meilyn!) as he turned and started walking down the road, away from her and whistling a soft tune under his breath. He lifted a hand in a silent gesture of goodbye and she waved back even though she knew he couldn't see her.

Meilyn sighed softly, a hand impulsively finding its way to her heart. She felt the organ throb underneath her fingertips.

She didn't have to be an expert to know what this kind of reaction meant.

Needless to say that one thing was for sure.

Meilyn Xiao was smitten with Kim Namjoon. 

 

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A/N: Hi everyone and thanks for dropping by! This is supposed to be the final part of 'The Set-Up', but if there are enough people who want a third part, I might write a bonus. So let me know what you think in the comments down below! it would mean a lot :) <3 as always, thank you so much for reading. I love you all and stay safe xx

- Mae Gi