The Girl With The Iron Will

The End Of The Line

"This life has twists and turns. But it's the sweetest mystery, when you're with me."

EXO, For Life

***

It's so cold, I thought to myself as I walked out to the main gates of my house, buttoning up my coat as my feet crunched on the gravel.

As if they had anticipated our arrival, some of our relatives had shown up at the house uninvited, and after saying hello, I left my mother to entertain them.

It was not an ideal situation, but she seemed all too happy to see them, unlike me, and was distracted enough to not ask questions when I told her that I had a friend who was coming to take me out to dinner.

Besides, it wasn't as if she needed to know who Kris was.

I doubted she even remembered him from the rooftop.

I looked around at the empty road, feeling antsy.

Where was he anyway?

He said he'd be here by eight. It's already ten past.

I tucked my hair behind my ear, suddenly nervously anticipating his arrival.

I must have been mad to curl my hair for tonight; there was something freakishly normal about the way he asked me out, and I was more than sure that we were going to be mobbed, so I might as well put some kind of care into my appearance.

It's so weird that with Jae Woong, I wanted to look like I didn't put in effort for our dates, and here I am, standing outside my house, wearing my favorite blouse over my favorite leggings.

I even put powder on, for god's sake. Something's wrong with me.

I spotted headlights flashing from a distance, and I kept my cool as it flashed once, twice.

That's him, alright.

The large red car pulled to a stop in front of me, the passenger window down.

He peered out. "Paging for an obnoxious half-Korean girl named Jang Mi?"

I shook my head in amusement, opening the door. "Was just about to ask if you were the guy with the busted plastic nose called Wu Yifan?" I asked sweetly, slipping in.

"Hey, that's rude."

I put on my seatbelt. "Deal with it, Model Boy," I said, ignoring his pout as I looked around, "Nice car. Your mom's?"

"Yep. She said it wouldn't be too obvious if I drove a family car," he told me, "All the more I could blend in."

"True that. You're also looking like a suburban dad."

He grinned. "It's my uncle's," he said, looking pleased with his choice of an argyle sweater, glasses and the beanie over his head, "And I'm using the same coat from the train. I doubt anyone would give a second glance."

I peered closer. "I highly doubt that- Wait, did you dye your hair?"

He nodded, taking off the beanie to reveal dark black hair. "Was the first thing my mother did when we got home."

"It looks discreet," I said approvingly, "What did she say about the bruise?"

"I told her you punched me."

"You did? And did you tell her why?"

He grimaced. "Yes."

"And?"

"She said I probably deserved it," he deadpanned.

I smiled smugly.

"She says hi, by the way," he added, "Said she'd ask you over but with the amount of people who had camped out in front of the house, it was going to be a little difficult."