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When Jisoo had asked him out, Taehyung had a strong gut feeling that she was the one. Accepting her invitation a tad bit over-eagerly, they had started going out. Jisoo was like a breath of fresh air in his monotonous routine.
Very quickly, one date had turned into two—and from two, into more.
Date four had been an online couple's sushi class—she had barged into his loft, dragging along three bags of ingredients and a live flounder. She butchered the poor fish without blinking. The blood had gotten into the white flesh (making it inedible while raw)—and all over the countertop (making a headache of a mess)—so in the end they had made fish and chips instead.
Date nine was on the Han river, kayaking to the backdrop of a gorgeous sunset. What he had thought to be a perfect yet mellow romantic evening was certainly not that. Jisoo had hollered at the top of her lungs—"It's a race!"—and started paddling like a madwoman, gaining a sizeable head start. In the end he had won though. She—being the sore loser that she is—had ignored him until dessert that night when he had paid for extra toppings stacked onto their strawberry brick toast as a consolation prize.
Date thirteen: paintball with her squad and a few of his friends. He and his boys had decided not to go easy on her team, and still lost in a spectacular fashion when they had been sniped one by one from across the field; headshots all around. Only after—when q-tipping the paint out of his ear—does he learn that she and her friends are regulars at the paintball range.
Something changes on date seventeen—December 30th, his birthday.
Given the rambunctious nature of their previous outings, he had been expecting something a tad bit more wild for his birthday. It wasn't that he had cared that much about doing something extra special—a more quiet dinner was nice too—but Jisoo had insisted she pick him up.
Not only had she been late—calling him half panicked, "Sorry! There's traffic!"—she had been tired and dozed off at the restaurant, eyes slipping shut while picking at the pork bun on her plate.
When questioned:
"I went to a cafe. It was Shua's birthday. I helped organize an event."
Taehyung had taken a moment to think—Yeh Shuhua, he remembered her as one of Jisoo's friends, the Taiwanese one. "Shuhua?"
"No, not Shuhua—Shua! Shooo-ah! It was Joshua's birthday!" Jisoo had explained, as if that was any better. She hadn't been paying him much attention at that point, too busy calling the cart lady over for more dim sum.
"You went and organized a birthday party for some guy but not me?" He had hissed with his teeth clenched.
His grip tightened on his wooden chopsticks till they snapped in two.
She had spared him a glance then—at the splintered pieces in his hands—and turned back to the waitress to kindly say, "And another pair of chopsticks please."
