𝔐𝔶 𝔈𝔫𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔗𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯... │𝕬 𝕹𝖆𝖒𝖏𝖔𝖔𝖓 𝖋𝖆𝖓𝖋𝖎𝖈│

Regret: Chapter 33ツ

Mr. Kim POV:

I turn around and close the door behind me with her still inside, to give her some space... and get some space.

Am I okay? I'm crazy for what I just did.

She's young, she's not going to think too much about what that just meant, but me? A grown man? I can't believe I let my feelings and dick get the best of me. Not only that, but she has to see my face for a week while she stays here, and at school as well. I make my way down to the kitchen area, filled to the brim with thoughts.

I sit down at the dining table as the maids bring in each dish one by one. I was shocked by the amount of food, even after I had asked the kitchen to make extra for Y/n.

My plate is empty, my fork is not in my hand and I'm eyeing the clock for something to do. 

"Where's Ms. Y/n?" Miss. Q asked, convinced there were some bitter feelings after what went down between Y/n and I. 

"She'll come... she's just fixing her hair... and such" I answer, knowing Miss.Q knew what had happened, but decided to keep her mouth shut. That's what I liked best about this old woman... she incredibily socially aware.

In just a few minutes, Y/n comes down to dining area with one housekeeper leading her and sat on the opposite of me on this massive table, avoiding interaction or eye contact.

"This is a lot of food..." she breathes out in disbelief, leading me to look at her. We make eye contact, and she breaks it first...

"Yes, it's for you.. our guest. I wasn't sure on your preferences so we have everything in every category". I was right, we had Korean jajangmyeon to Indian chicken kadai to Italian carbonara. I prefered Korean cuisine, so that was made 9/10 times since my roots come from there, but I suppose that has to change for a few days.

"What if we don't finish everything?" Y/n asks concerningly. To see her get curious, her eyes widen a little and her lips part in curiousity, I knew it's better to stay away from her. Today it was a sensual kiss... what if I let loose tomorrow?

"The food goes to the house keepers, but never wasted" I say "Now... shall we begin?" I questioned and she nodded, distant from me.

We ate in silence, besides the occasional 'this is delcious' from Y/n as she eats a variety of dishes. I wasn't hungry today, but watching her eat filled me up, and I was more then grateful she was enjoying herself and feeling at home.

"Y/n I wanted to ask, what do you parents do for a living?" I break the silence in between my bites of kimbap. She froze for a second and tried to act typical. That didn't go unnoticed by me, especially because my real job requires me to notice any change in body behaviour for the sake of my safety.

"Well... my mum she um... helps my dad in his real estate... business..." she tries making up, unfortunately for her I wasn't getting fooled. I, however, pretended to for her sake.

"What about you?" She shot back this time, making proper eye contact. She either hates me for initiating the kiss or she wants to know why I'm an 'english teacher'.

"Long story short, keeping an identity of an English teacher helps me live a little longer around here. After all, it's a good cover up and such..." I reply, avoiding what I actually do for a living.

"I see... but what do you.. do then?" She digs deeper. She's smart, she knows I was trying to avoid the question but isn't letting me.

"I do... dealings of properties with different parties like real estate and all..." I say, part telling the truth but leaving out the guns, blood and danger. My history isn't any of her concern.

She become quiet, I can sense she knows I'm lying. After all, why would I need a cover if I'm in a normal person business? We finished up the food, with a lot left, so I tell my house keepers to take care of that. 

Y/n and I walk silently up the stairs... She walks to her room and I walk to mine.

"Y/n?..." I call out before she goes to her room. She hums back in response not wanting to really speak to me. 

"Want to talk about what happened... earlier?" I ask, finally bringing up our sexual encounter.

She doesn't say anything and once again doesn't look at me. She shakes her head and goes inside her room. 

Fuck.

I can't even bring this up at school tomorrow.

Going inside my room, The piles of unmarked essays by the chair stare at me and I groan. I go to sit down next to them pick up my red pen, ready to mark these harshly. I see Y/n's name poking out of the pile and I pick it up.

Hers revolved around love and I read through it intrigued on her view on it, while maintaining a professional tone. I stop midway, as one sentence stands out to me.

'We can control our minds, but we can't seem to control attraction... perhaps our subconcisous is looking for what we truly want, not something that we should want.'

I place the essay down and look up at the ceiling, replaying the moments we had together as I pinned her down and made it known that I'm not a loving man, but a self destructing one.

I sigh and pick up another essay...

.... I shouldn't read hers in this state...

END OF CHAPTER 33°

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