Chapter 3

Jungkook

I was people watching, filling in imaginary lives to keep my mind off my own life when she looked at me.

I’d been watching her with her boyfriend for the last few minutes, puzzling them out. They both exuded confidence and looked effortlessly cool.

The guy was all dark- dark eyes, dark skin, dark tattoos. All his ink that I could see was depressing or violent- skulls and guns and brass knuckles. He looked quite intimidating. In this country, people with tattoos don’t usually flaunt them. It’s best to keep it hidden if you don’t want to be judged, so this guy must be quite carefree.

She on the other hand was bright- from her vividly red hair to her painted red lips. Korean girls tend to do their makeup very natural, so this girl must be quite bold to choose quite a colour. It makes her pale skin stand out a lot. She had a few small birds flying up her neck, and what looked like the top of a tree poking out from the heart-shaped neck of her 1950s-style dress. Yet again, she stood out a lot compared to the surrounding girls.

As often as he touched and kissed her, I saw no connection between them. She didn’t even glance over at him once as she talked on the phone. And when she wasn’t paying attention to him, he didn’t even bother looking at her. Like they were part of two different solar systems, neither revolving with or around the other, and both were just with each other for the passing moment.

He hadn’t even bothered to pick up the cup of coffee when she’d dropped it. He just moved her out of the way, and a barista came around and took care of it.

Now, he was gone and she was looking at me like I had something she wanted. It made my mouth go dry and stirred something in my chest. Stirred up other things, too.

She walked up to my table, her hips swinging her wide skirt, and I got my first really good look at her face. She was beautiful- full lips, high cheekbones, and a high straight nose. A white flower was tucked into her riotous red curls. She looked like the edgy asian version of a 1950s pinup girl. Completely different from any Korean girls I’ve seen. She was the total opposite of any girl I had ever dated or thought about dating.

She was the complete opposite of So Eun.

Maybe that’s the reason why I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.

I could see now that the tattoo on her chest was definitely a tree. Bare branches stretched up toward her collarbone, and when she leaned over and rested her hands on my table I got a good look at the trunk of the tree disappearing down between the valley of her s.

I swallowed, and it took me longer than it should have to avert my gaze to her face. She said, “I’m going to ask you something, and it’s going to seem crazy.”

It would match with the rest of my thoughts then.

“Okay?,” I said.

She slid into the seat beside me, and I could smell her…something feminine and sweet and completely at all odds with her inked skin. I was still thinking about that damn tree, imagining what the rest of the tattoo looked like, wondering how soft her skin was…

“My parents showed up in town uninvited, and they want to meet my boyfriend.”

She slid a little closer and tapped red-painted nails against the table.

“And how can I help?”

“Well, I’m supposed to introduce them to a nice, sweet boyfriend who I met at the library, which is not actually the