Chapter Two

The Shock

OH MY GOD. 

Sungmi's jaw hung on the floor right at her feet. She was having all types of feels inside that she couldn't describe while ogling at his face. Was this possible? Was this sight really possible? Was she hallucinating? 

The man in front of her was a Greek god in human form. His dark hair cascaded across his forehead in waves, slightly covering the brown, piercing eyes that twinkled of mischievous deeds. He was wearing a tight black tee that outlined his chest to perfection, and his bronze skin complemented his handsome features. 

NO WAY. THIS CAN'T BE THE GUEST. HE IS TOO MUCH.

Sungmi attempted to gather her thoughts and close her jaw. Shifting uneasily on her feet, she croaked, "A-are you...the guest?" 

Mr.Greek God raised his y eyebrow at her and nodded his head behind him. It was then that Sungmi noticed all his bags and a designer suitcase in his hand. 

I'm so embarrassing. Sungmi scratched the back of her neck and coughed uneasily. "Oh, um, I see...uh, what's your name?" She mentally slapped herself for stuttering like a fool. Maybe it was because of her lack of experience in being close to drop-dead gorgeous guys. Or maybe it was her hunger combined with overraging hormones that made her almost want to fall at his feet and drool. 

Oh my god Sungmi, you fool. Get yourself together. She slowly looked up at him again. 

"What's up with your face? It's red," Mr. Greek God asked, raising that same give-you-feels-all-over eyebrow again. His voice was deep and buttery and sounded sweeter than honey. A whole minute passed as she relished this fact. 

Wait, did he just talk to her informally? "Why--"

"My god, am I going to live with some mumbling weirdo that can't talk?" he muttered to himself, unaware that Sungmi could hear perfectly what he just said. 

"Hold on--"

"Are you going to let me in or what?" he interrupted. 

Her jaw dropped again in shock. Did she just hear him right?

Before she could even breathe, much less utter a single word, the stranger had already stepped forward with his luggage and opened the door, welcoming himself into Sungmi's home without any consent. 

She was too flabberghasted to move a muscle. She watched as this very, very rude guest looked around her living room, scrutinizing the layout and furniture with critical eyes. He didn't say a word, but she could hear his condescending thoughts like it was spoken out loud. 

A moment of silence passed until he finally mumbled, "It's...different."

Sungmi suddenly broke out of her reverie. Anger coursed through her veins as she clenched her chubby hands. "Hey! You shouldn't barge into somebody's house like that!" she exclaimed, her voice slightly squeaky. 

She stared him down with piercing eyes as he turned around and cocked his head at her, raising the eyebrow again. "Yah, how old are you to be talking to me in banmal? And why is your voice so high?" 

She was confused. "What do you mean? And you used banmal first!"

"I'm older," he said, ignoring her former question.

How is he so sure of that anyways? She wondered.

He picked up his bags again and walked down the hall as if he knew where he was heading. 

"Yah! Where are you going?" Sungmi hollered. Her previous awe at this man had been overshadowed by her peeved emotions at his aberrant behavior. Maybe that's why they say you can't judge a book by its cover. 

"To my room of course," he replied no