Hanbin's fists balled up and let loose as his mindless parents babbled away, bombarding the poor little brown girl with questions from her hometown to her hips size as she apparently had 'such good child bearing hips' according to Hanbin's mother.
'Which were better to hold on to', Hanbin's father whispered in the language which she later learned (due to Mrs Kim talking about their daughter's old grammar school in South Korea) was Korean to the boy, who blushed furiously at any intimate thoughts that were placed in his brain by his sex driven father.
Honestly, it was such a mystery how his parents only had two children and not two hundred.
Tinashe seemed okay with all the questions though, answering as if she had actually been seeing Hanbin for three months and not three days.
She held his hand on top of the white table cloth and she noticed his eyes shift to the vegetables on his plate each time she ran her fingers over his knuckles for reassurance.
"He thought he was too old for me so he was scared to ask me out to dinner. Remember that, Hanbin?" she beamed and suddenly all eyes were on him and only him.
"It wasn't like that," be chuckled, which startled Tinashe as it was completely out of his character because it wasn't cynical or sarcastic. "You came onto me. Pretending you lost your way to the other street."
Tinashe looked to him with a warning glare and he smirked back, challengingly. "Oh yes, I forgot about that... Darling," she said with a faux smile and gritted teeth.
Mr Kim chuckled loudly. "They get along so well. Don't they, honey?" he said to his wife.
She nodded her head full of pin-straight hair and looked to a lady who walked in with a phone in hand for Hanbin's mother.
The timid girl who stood wordlessly, looked her mid-twenties but obviously, Tinashe could be wrong as Asian tended not to raisin. Her black hair was shoulder length, at least to Tinashe as the girl had it in a slicked back bun with a frilly headband on.
And a maid outfit.
They were literally told to wear maid outfits here. Was it for the father's pleasure or?
Mrs Kim stood up and took the phone, bringing it to her ear. "Tinashe, honey?" she asked sweetly, her feet walking towards the double doors to the kitchen but her eyes facing the girl who kept a smile despite the questions she suddenly had for the parents. "Would you like me to show you the kitchen?"
Tinashe put down her napkin and nodded, pushing her chair back to leave and accompany the nice woman.
Out of nowhere, Hanbin's fingers snaked around her wrist with ease and pulled her down without glancing once at the confused girl.
"You'll be fine on your own, mom," Hanbin deadpanned, tossing his napkin in his plate which held a good portion of his food laying cold.
Mrs Kim flashed Tinashe her teeth and tilted her head as if to silently apologize for her son as she left the scene, attending to the voice that began again on the other end of the phone.
Once she had gone through and let the doors close behind her, Tinashe leaned towards Hanbin. "What was that?" she whispered.
Hanbin lifted their recently interlocked fingers onto the table with a thud and looked to his father, avoiding eye contact with her.
Hanbin's father chuckled deeply and spoke their native tongue to his son with happiness in his tone.
As Hanbin and his father's words exchanged at a greater pace, they also grew in volume, on Hanbin's end, and Hanbin gripped Tinashe's palm tighter and tighter until he huffed and stood abruptly.
YOU ARE READING
↳ a KIM HANBIN fanfic. "i don't know who the hell you are but if you don't shimmy yourself back out my window, i'm calling the cops." "damn, why so salty?" a tale in which Kim Hanbin reluctantly takes care of a runaway princess. --on hiatus ©-jiny...