You're The One I Want | Winrina

Just Little Touches

She didn't have time to dwell on it though, because as they got closer to the house, the front door burst open.

Jimin barely had enough time to shoot Minjeong a look before her mother was pulling her into a hug and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Jimin, darling, we thought you'd never get here, we were waiting for ages-" Her mother said without taking a breath, ushering the two of them into the house.

"Mum," Jimin said, stopping Tiffany in her tracks. She put her arm back around Minjeong's waist, bringing her forward. "This is Kim Minjeong."

Minjeong stepped towards Jimin's mother, stranding straight with a smile on her face, all trace of nerves gone. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Yu, I've heard so much about you," she said, reaching out a hand for Jimin's mother to shake.

"I wish I could say the same about you," Tiffany said, offering Minjeong a warm smile. "You've been quite an elusive topic in this house - Jimin hasn't told us much at all. Oh, and please call me Tiffany, dear."

She lead the pair of them into the living room, and Jimin couldn't help but notice how Minjeong kept sneaking glances around the place, staring up at the high ceilings and mahogany furniture. She sat primly on the sofa, quite still. While Tiffany was occupied in another room, trying to find Jimin's father, Minjeong leaned in towards her.

"The floors are made of marble!" she muttered into her ear.

"Yeah, and they have Persian rugs," Jimin said, dryly. "Try not to think about it."

Jimin adjusted herself into a more comfortable sitting position, her fingers accidentally brushing Minjeong's, her skin sparking at the touch. Minjeong's eyes widened a little, and the pair shot each other a look before their eyes darted away, Jimin snatching her hand away to scratch the back of her head.

"Siwon!" they heard Tiffany call from the other room. "Come and meet Minjeong!"

Jimin's father entered the room with a sense of grandeur, and as always, Jimin felt a little like there should have been some kind of fanfare as she came through the door. The way he moved commanded attention and he filled up space in a way that Jimin never could; even if it had been crowded, Siwon would have been impossible to ignore.

Minjeong rose to her feet, and with the same polite smile she'd been using morning – the same smile, Minjeong noticed, that she used for customers – offered her hand out for him to shake.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," she said, as his hand gripped hers and shook it with enough force to remove her arm from its socket.

"Call me Siwon, please," he said. "Wonderful to meet you, lass. You're certainly a beautiful young lady, my Jimin's a very lucky gal."

"Ah, thank you," Minjeong spluttered and ducked her head, her cheeks turning a little red.

Siwon joined Tiffany on her seat, and Minjeong sank back down beside Jimin, and this time her hands finding hers was no accident.

She felt her skin pricking again as their fingers met.

"So, what do you do, Minjeong?" Tiffany asked.

"I work in a bar," Minjeong said, her customer service smile back on her face. "It's not what I want to do forever, but it's enough to get by on for now."

Jimin frowned, as her thoughts turning to Minjeong's cold, draughty apartment, the heating never on, the endless amount of bills stuffed into every corner. "Minjeong wants to be a journalist, eventually," she said. "She's going to take another course or an internship as soon as the money picks up."