✓//Ordinary Things ⌁ k. jiyong

Chapter Twenty

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘
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The early evening air wrapped around them like a favorite coat-crisp, a little cool, just enough to make her tuck her arm into his. Jiyong didn't say anything at first. He just looked down at where their elbows had found each other and smiled.

"I didn't even ask where we're going," Haeun said, glancing up at him as they turned the corner from her studio.

He was dressed down, his cap low, his mask tucked under his chin now that the street had cleared. Still him, though. Still unmistakably Kwon Jiyong-except not G-Dragon. Just her Jiyong tonight.

"It's not far," he said. "I figured we'd walk. You like walks."

"I do," she nodded. "But this feels suspicious. Like you've got a hidden motive."

He raised an eyebrow, amused. "Suspicious? I brought dessert and asked you out. What more do you want from me?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said, drawing it out. "A PowerPoint presentation? Mood board? Maybe a professionally written dating proposal."

"I do have a stylist. I could ask them to throw something together," he replied coolly, then added, "With references."

She laughed, leaning into his side for a second. "A references list. Like from my brother?"

"Exactly. Though he's clearly biased."

"Oh, clearly," she said. "He thinks I'm still the little kid who used to cry when he stole my snack cakes."

"You did cry," Jiyong noted.

"You weren't even there!"

"I heard the stories. They were legendary. Youngbae said you declared a hunger strike for twenty minutes."

"Twenty-two," she corrected proudly. "And I stand by it."

Jiyong chuckled, looking at her with something soft behind his eyes. "I should've known then."

"Known what?"

"That you were dramatic enough to become a podcaster."

She feigned offense, hand to her heart. "Excuse me, my podcast is a national treasure."

"It is," he agreed, easily. "And so are your reactions."

Haeun groaned, trying to hide the growing warmth in her cheeks. "You're lucky you're charming."

"I'm very lucky," he said under his breath-too quiet for her to catch unless she was really listening.

They turned onto a quieter street, lined with trees beginning to shift into their late summer rust. Golden light filtered through the branches, and Jiyong slowed his steps. He glanced sideways.

"You used to talk about this kind of thing," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"This. Walks. Quiet evenings. Being with someone without needing to... prove anything."

She blinked. "You remember that?"

He nodded. "I remember everything you say."

That made her pause.

He noticed, of course he did, and when she didn't respond right away, he nudged her hand with his. Not a grab. Not even a full touch. Just enough.

"So," she said, voice light again, needing a small escape. "Are we going somewhere fancy?"