Inspired by Cornelia Street

Normally, Jong Kook doesn’t believe coincidences or things happening without a reason. He believes in timing and every little thing, big or small, being in its right place, at the right time. So it’s hard to believe that being here in this city, of all places, at the exact time as Ji Hyo is nothing but a coincidence. Except, the truth is that it is a mere coincidence, and not something planned. Before he had seen her on the plane ride over, he hadn’t even known she was travelling outside of Korea. He barely had the time to ask as he had been preoccupied by the little mishap onboard. He hadn’t seen her when they landed either, because by the time he and his mother disembarked from the plane, she had already been whisked away by her manager and her stylists.

So happening upon her again, here around Greenwich Village, when he hadn’t even thought he’d see her before they’re both in Korea, is a little jarring. He wants to chalk it up to coincidence or the winds of fate playing games with him, but he can’t find it in himself to buy into it. It’s hard to believe that all of this is happening without a reason.

He watches her from a distance as she tries to communicate with a strange man, a true-blooded Yankee, who is looking at her with impatience while she tries to ask for directions in her broken English. He wonders where her usual entourage is, but knowing her, he has an inkling that she’s left them in favor of some time alone. Her brows are knitted together with a hint of frustration flaring off her face. She looks about ready to cry, too, and he thinks he can’t stare here any longer and watch, so he takes hasty steps towards her, determined to try and help her from further embarrassment, or something worse like that New Yorker cursing her to her face.

“Ji Hyo-yah,” he calls out when he’s only a few paces away from where she’s standing. She whips her head to his general direction and the sheer relief on her face when she sees him is almost comical, if he isn’t so genuinely worried for her.

“Jong Kook Oppa,” she sighs, her eyes sparkling and her shoulders sagging as she finally sees a friendly face. She smiles at him. “Oh thank God!”

Jong Kook gives her a small smile in return before he looks at the man in front of her. “I’m sorry, I think she just got a little lost, but I got her from here,” he tells the other man in perfect English, to which he receives an impatient nod.

“You better take better care of your girlfriend, man,” the American says unpleasantly before he walks away hurriedly, leaving Ji Hyo and Jong Kook alone.

Jong Kook feels a little embarrassed by his words, but doesn’t bother to translate his words to Ji Hyo, not really knowing how she’d react to it. Instead, he turns to Ji Hyo, his face taking on a look of concern. He has half the mind to shake her, wondering why she’s all alone in a foreign place where she cannot communicate properly. It doesn’t help that it’s already very late at night, and while this city never sleeps, the dangers here don’t sleep either.

“Ji Hyo-yah, why are you wandering around so late on your own?” he asks her, his voice rising as thoughts of what could have happened to her invades his mind. “Where are your manager and stylists?”

She frowns up at him, visibly annoyed at the tone he’s using on her. He cannot help it. The worry he feels is greater than her displeasure at the moment. She doesn’t seem to fully realize the dangers lurking at every corner here in New York, even if this is one of the more upscale areas.

“I left them at the hotel. I wasn’t going to wander far, I just wanted to eat and tour around on my own,” she says in defense, as she goes from frowning at him to a full glare. “What is so wrong with that?”

The vein on Jong Kook’s neck might actually explode as he hears her talk, acting very nonchalant and not caring one bit about her safety. “Christ, Ji Hyo, whatever possessed you to go around unaccompanied by people who can actually speak English is beyond me! You could have been mugged, injured, or stabbed. Do you not care about that?”

The moment she crosses her arms on her chest and looks away from him is the moment she’s realized that she knows she’s defeated but doesn’t want to admit it to him. She looks sullen as she looks back up at him, her eyebrows drawn and her lips pursed.

“I wouldn’t have to worry about it if you just taught me how to speak English like you’ve promised a million times!” she rebuts, and truly, she got him there, so he fumbles to come up with a good response.

Instead, he retorts, saying, “You’re just lazy. At some point you’re going to have to learn on your own.” He knows she’ll think he’s nagging again.

And he knows he’s right because she heaves his sigh and tells him he’s talking too much. “I just wanted to eat. They don’t really have the best food for room service.” She pouts at him and Jong Kook thinks it’s insanely adorable, but he refrains from telling her that. “So do you want to come with me or not?”

He shakes his head in exasperation (though he still finds her adorable and he still won’t tell her that), and sighs, too. “I do, and I will accompany you for sure, but—” he tries to say, but she cuts him off when she loops her arm around his and half drags him away from where they are standing, rooted on the spot.

“Good. Then you’re officially mine here in New York, okay?” she says charmingly, batting her eyelids for good measure — and she really does look cute when she’s not being forced to do aegyo— rendering Jong Kook silent for a second, momentarily speechless.

He allows her to pull him with her without another word. Secretly, he smiles at her words, trying to play at nonchalance, but his heart skips a beat. He thinks that he’s happy enough to be hers, anywhere in the world if she asks.

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