The next day was a Saturday. School was off the day before, so all the townspeople were utilizing the weekend for catching up on massive amounts of lost sleep, myself included.

Jimin and I were on the phone as soon as I woke up, which was after noon. He asked me about tweny-five questions in the duration of an hour, each question spread out from the last and even more anxious than its predecessor. 

He was obviously nervous. How could I blame him? I had been, too, when it was my turn.

Umma and Appa made dinner together for the first time in a thousand years. They started cooking at five-thirty when Jimin wasn't invited until seven, which meant it was going to be a really fancy meal. By the time six forty-five rolled around, I was nervous, too.

I was just a little bit dressed up based off of my umma's overpowering commands; my black and white sweater matched decently with my nicest pair of jeans. Umma and Appa were both a little bit dressed up as well, and I cringed internally. Jimin would only be more terrified at the sight of their formal attire.

"Alright, everything is ready," Umma informed me as we set the table.

I was too nervous to respond or appreciate how delicious the food smelled.

"Is he nervous?" she asked with a knowing smile.

I nodded, laughing to show that was an understatement.

When a knock sounded on my front door, I sprung up from the dining room table and ran to the sound, shouting to alert my parents that I would get it. I opened the door to reveal my Jimin, standing with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his cheeks slightly pink from the chilled air. He broke into a smile when he saw me.

"Hi," I managed, standing aside so he could enter. "Come on in."

"Okay." He looked up at me as he stepped out of his shoes and took an exaggerated deep breath. "I'm ready."

"Don't worry, baby," I said softly, leaning forward and quickly kissing his soft cheek.

He was either too nervous or not nervous enough to respond; I could only hope it was the latter. Jimin removed his jacket to reveal a stunning white dress shirt with the sleeves folded up halfway. He wore dark jeans and a simple but irresistable hairstyle.

I stood holding his jacket with my jaw dropped, suddenly unable to digest the fact that this gorgeous specimen was my boyfriend about to meet my parents.

"What?" he chuckled, looking me up and down.

"First of all, we're kind of matching," I began, hanging the jacket on a nearby hook. "Second, why are you so handsome?"

He glowed at the compliment, scrunching up his nose at me. "You're gross."

I stuck out my tongue at him and led him towards the dining room.

The next few moments were painfully awkward and nerve-wracking, but Jimin did pretty well. Umma was peppy and adorable, obviously trying to diffuse Jimin's stress, while Appa was serious and straight-faced, shaking Jimin's hand and clearly evaluating the strength of his grip with a furrowed brow.

Appa and I didn't talk much for the remainder of the evening. Jimin seemed to gradually relax and open up. Without much effort, Umma managed to transform his timid self into a buoyant, loud, and opinionated teenager with a lot to say and a lot to smile about. Small talk was easy with my umma and Jimin was good at small talk, so the two got along flawlessly.

I constantly glanced over to check out Appa's reaction. He seemed very concentrated on his food, but I could tell from his attentive expression that he was listening very carefully to Jimin's words. 

I was no longer worried. There was no way my parents wouldn't like Jimin. He could charm an angry dragon, for crying out loud. Why had I even been worried in the first place?

After about a forty-five minute meal, I cleared everyone's dishes and asked Umma if Jimin and I could be excused.

"Of course," she said, still chuckling from the last idiotically adorable thing Jimin had said. 

Jimin got to his feet, bowed to them both, and turned to make his way towards the stairs. Once he was gone and I was on my way to follow, Appa's fingers lashed out to wrap around my wrist.

I turned back to face him. "Appa?"

He held my gaze evenly for a moment before dropping my wrist and nodding, a crooked smile spreading across his lips. "He's a good kid."

I couldn't conceal my grin. Dropping into a bow and hiding my smile behind one hand, I said, "Thank you. Thank you, Appa. Thank you, Umma."

She beamed and nodded encouragingly, so I took it as my turn to escape up the stairs into my boyfriend's waiting arms.

...

Umma didn't let Jimin sleep over, which was no surprise, but I was disappointed nonetheless. At least I would get to see him bright and early the next morning.

I was expectin