The menu has no prices on it.
You had a feeling that Donghyuck brought you to a rather extravagant restaurant when you realized how unsettlingly far and how obscurely hidden the location of the restaurant was. The interior design of the place was also way beyond your expectation; it was much more extravagant than your average corner ramen store, which you knew you would ultimately prefer.
This seemed like the kind of fancy dining place not known in the mundane world, the kind of restaurants only spoke of within a particularly wealthy group of people. And your observations were correct when you saw that there were no prices printed on their two-sided menu, with their food written in normal Korean and an obnoxiously cursive font of English.
Donghyuck wasn't able to notice how tense you were the entire time because you had no idea how much the food you ordered cost, and when you asked about it he simply laughed it off and told you not to worry about it. You didn't expect him to notice it solely from your appearances either; you pride yourself in being able to put up quite the act.
It would take a mind reader to see if you were feeling anxious.
But oh, you were anxious, alright. While you were not one to avoid expensive restaurants, you do believe in treating yourself to something extravagant once in a while, you would love to be able to follow your financial schedule. The only times you would spend more than necessary on food, with your budget being a meal and drink combination that goes under twenty dollars, are special occasions, such as holidays and after an accomplishment.
The latter has always been debatable.
Today was not the occasion, especially since you have just spent some extra money on your trip around the local bookstore near your work place. You huffed out a short sigh, a pout hanging on your lips as you faced the menu; you weren't supposed to be there that night but your co-worker had dragged you over to the coffee shop set inside the bookstore for a change of scenery and taste.
The decrease in the amount in your bank account was making you rather anxious, you could not wait for your next paycheck so the amount could be well over your safety threshold again. It was like a phone battery percentage; it could only go so low until you would start feeling like you need to charge it.
And standing blocks above the minimum percentage would be the safety threshold where, while it isn't the one-hundred, it is a percentage you could be okay with.
"Just tell me how much my order is, Donghyuck," you said once again, looking directly at him after seeing the table next to you get their bill after finishing their food.
He looked up at you. The deadpan in his eyes were glaringly obvious but he meant no harm with them. If anything, it was meant to be more tiresome and annoyed than looking out to cause you discomfort. He twirled the fork in his hand, curling up the pasta around the utensil before he brought it up to his mouth, stuffing the ball of pasta into his mouth while maintaining eye contact with you.
You stared right back at him, unfazed as you watched him chew his food, still waiting for his reply. It made him sigh inwardly; your reaction was expected but disappointing. He was hoping you would finally be swayed by the blatant stare of his naturally seductive eyes (according to him and others, but mostly himself and the mirror in his bathroom). Seemed like he would have to wait for another time.
He will get there. He will get you to blush and look away one day, even if that was the last thing he does.
"You see," he said with his voice muffled. Then he shut his mouth, waiting after he swallowed his food to talk. Licking the side of his lips, he put the fork down on the plate and focused all his attention on you. "What I don't understand is why you keep on asking me that? I already said I am paying for your lunch, so why does it matter to you how much it is."
You pursed your lips together. He did say that he would buy lunch for you, and you were fine with that. That was if the meal wasn't overpriced, especially not well over the measly five dollars you paid for him the other day.
You couldn't be too sure about the price range of this restaurant yet, but you were sure you would feel icky all over if Donghyuck has to pay an absurd amount for your food under no special circumstances.
You would feel indebted to him somehow, and you'd rather feel loose and free of that unbalanced feeling.
"I just want to make sure you are not paying too much for my meal, that is all," you said. "When I paid for your food last time, it was under ten dollars. I would like to keep it fair so you shouldn't be buying me something that costs more than that."
Donghyuck pursed his lips, placing his mouth behind his propped up hands, his eyes a thoughtful glare. he was pleasantly surprised at your generosity, that you wanted to be precise with monetary problems. but he was also damn exhausted with the fact that you were so meticulous about even the smallest friendliest of things.
People would usually flock to him if he offered them a free meal. Hell, he was often pushed to buy cover the bill at gatherings and parties with his distant friends simply because of his wealthy background as well. He has always hated that he was seen as a money dispenser. He would love to just pay for himself and leave the table for once without being pressured to be the bigger person.
Yet, somehow, for once when he actually wanted to buy somebody a meal, the receiving end didn't want to accept it.
"I don't know how many more times I am supposed to tell you this, (Name)," he muttered under his breath, fumbling with his hands as rubbed them together. He looked away briefly, just to catch a breather, then he turned back to you. He smiled in annoyance, his eyes squinted in dismay. "But I really cannot care less how much this lunch will come out to be."
"I know you don't, but I do, Donghyuck," you retorted, widening your eyes genuinely at him. "I care. Monetary issues are not a joke to me, and I would hate to be indebted to someone I'm not close to yet, even if it's just a measly five dollars."
He wasn't sure what his head focused more on. Was it the fact that you considered him as somebody who you are not close to (which was such a big disappointment to him), or the fact that your sentence hinted at the fact that your relationship as familiar strangers could meet its glory end (which he was very happy about)?
His emotions were pulling him into two different directions, it was conflicting. He would have let himself dwell more on it if he wasn't so hell-bent on being a quick-witted person. Whatever it was, he could think about it alone at night, with the company of his lonely bed. But in front of you, he has got to keep up his spontaneity.
"Someone you are not close to–(Name)! How dare you! I thought we were friends," he said in disapproval, shaking his head as he played with the condiment holder. "I even guessed your phone number, we are basically soulmates!"
"First of all, soulmates are not built that way," you said, taking a sip of your water before setting the glass down. You ignored Donghyuck's intrigued look, his eyes spiraling with questions he wouldn't keep to himself for long, then you added, "Second of all, I clearly remember Jeno gave it to you."
"One day, I'm calling it, one day. I will say something you won't remember," he challenged, disregarding the topic of soulmates to the side as he pointed his finger at you. He faked a look of frustration. "And I am going to be all over you about it."
"I don't purposefully remember the things you say, Donghyuck. Frankly, I only do that when it's something important," you said truthfully, ignoring the way his lips quirked in surprise. "You just haven't said a single normal thing since I've met you. Even if I don't want to remember you, I do."
He waited for you to speak more then, his eyes focused on your face like he has never looked at anybody else before. You were playing around with your food if he would consider pocking at it as a form of playing around. Your lips were pursed as if you had more to say, words that would only add more ambiguity to the way he assumed you thought about him.
That was the thing about you, right! He could never tell what you were thinking, or at least he couldn't tell if you like him or not, which was so frustrating.
Donghyuck often prided himself in being able to read other's expressions, to listen to voices, and to analyze words. After all, he did grow up around wealthy, business people whose skill was to kiss people's ass when they have to.
He could usually tell if people wanted his presence, or if they were only pretending to adore him, or even if people were trying to hide their hatred in invisible passive-aggressiveness. The point was that he could always tell, through observing, how somebody is feeling. If he was ever to get a Master's degree, even with his abominable grades at the moment, it would be in the field of spotting insincerity.
But you—oh, you. You were a whole different level of enigmatic. Like a fallen asteroid, you crashed onto him with unreliable honesty; your words were joyful, but your face screamed with stoic tension. Your eyes were annoyed, yet you were speaking of casual endearment.
You were so honest yet so deceiving. You tell the truth when you are prompted to do so, and seemingly only when you are asked to do so. But what Donghyuck wanted to know, he could never straightforwardly ask you, nor could he find a discreet way to bring it out of you without sounding like a nuisance.
He wanted to know if he annoyed you, if he was a nuisance, if you would rather live an eternity of misery than sit here with him.
He wanted to know if you liked him, as a friend, or even just as an acquaintance.
"Well, I am very memorable," he huffed out confidently, gesturing toward his face. "Have you seen me? Have you looked at this face? I am gorgeous, and thus, unforgettable."
You stared at him after his voice dropped. You were no longer simply looking at his face; there was a different gleam in your eyes, it switched the second he mentioned his high faith in his appearance. Your eyes went across his features as if to examine him now, quietly scoring his appearance in your head and assessing him with the attention he was beginning to feel shy about receiving.
You have never given more than a second thought to his looks. It was a shame, truly, because a face like him was hard to come by in real life. Donghyuck has such an expressive face, one he knew how to utilize to maximum ability—his plump lips, his even brows, his round cheeks, and most staggeringly, his eyes.
There was simply something about them. Brooding, almost, in a way his gaze could pierce through you with such delicate intimidation. But they were not unwelcoming. Within the gentle hazelnut-brown color were bright mischief and hidden fondness that one could not easily perceive unless permitted to do so.
Donghyuck's hazy eyes are an enchanting paradox all on their own.
But that was not all there is to him that you found yourself feeling comfortable with.
In a startlingly abrupt manner, you broke into a short laugh. It was such a faint giggle, but Donghyuck didn't think he would ever forget it. He tilted his head to the side, watching your reaction after the long silence, and he waited for you to speak.
"Yes, you are good-looking, I admit," you said, and it took you a moment to quiet down. "But I much prefer your peculiarity over your looks. It makes me laugh, I am very fond of it."
There was a light hammering in his chest, deep beneath inside his heart where the beating has gotten so loud because you were just so adorable to him! It was controlling him, his mind and his voice and his eyes—everything that blossomed within him the next few moments, the beating of his heart and the flowing of his thoughts, they all simply belonged to you.
For a second, he gave everything he has for you, and he was incomprehensibly yours.
"So you do like me!" He blurted out, arching a brow suggestively at you.
You blinked at him, unfazed by his sudden flirtatious action. You nodded. "Yes, I have always liked you, as a friend."
"So we are friends!" He exclaimed, his eyes widening this time.
You frowned at him, feeling humiliated that his loud voice and dramatic gestures were starting to cause a scene in the restaurant.
Glaring at him in an attempt to calm him down, you replied to him, "Well, I wouldn't say we are friends, per se? But we are definitely not at an acquaintance level either."
He hummed, his eyes widening at you daringly. You have put him in deep thoughts once again, unlike how most people never could. And what was it this time? The qualifications he needed to jump from being just an acquaintance to being a friend of yours.
"Care to enlighten me?" He asked then, gesturing toward you as your cue to speak.
You looked at him, confused. "On what topic, exactly?"
"What else could it be, (Name)?" He scolded, nodding his head as he spoke with pouty, tantrum lips. "Explain to me the line between an acquaintance and a friend, the line between life and death, the line between best friends and lovers!"
You frowned then, looking down at the table in deep thoughts. Donghyuck laughed quietly to himself, unknowingly propping his chin on his palm as he watched the gears turn in your head.
And he wondered what you could be thinking about. Was it the answers to his questions? Was it if you wanted to answer them in order? Or if he was serious about all three questions?
Ha! It would be hilarious if you took the time out to reply to all three of his questions, two of which improvised on the spot and he wasn't interested in whatsoever.
"Alright. First, between acquaintances and friends–"
You paused for a quick moment, noticing his subconsciously more-than-friendly stare, then you willed yourself to continue. There was nothing more to it, it was just the way his eyes were naturally made to look and feel like; like he was intrigued, enamored, in love.
"Uhm, friends and acquaintances," you restarted carefully after clear your throat. "Friends are people I talk to outside of class. I am generally more comfortable around then and am willing to do intimate things with. Acquaintances are people I keep ties with for professional purposes only. I do not interact with them outside of the classroom unless it is for work purposes."
Donghyuck hummed in acknowledgment, taking in your words with newfound attention. Then, after a bit of contemplation, he tilted his head and asked, "Right... shouldn't I be considered a friend, then? We are outside of class right now, and I assure you we talked nothing of the project we were supposed to work on."
Pleasantly surprised at his observation, your features relaxed gently as your brows gave him an arch of approval. You nodded, agreeing with him, then you jumped to explaining his peculiar case.
"Right, that is true. However, I am yet to feel willing to initiate intimacy with you yet, so that kicks you off the friend list," you said. "But you are more than just being an acquaintance, yes."
Initiate intimacy—ha, alright. When you say it like that, his head was bound to run south, and he'd start thinking about inappropriate things. But, thankfully, this was an urgent matter to him. He just had to understand why he still wasn't friends with you? What about the five dollar meal he got you, huh?
Did that mean nothing to you! After all this time! Where was his justice!
"Define intimate things," he asked then, leaning back against the chair.
You replied quickly, not blinking an eye. "Skinship, for one. I am also cautious of giving out personal information, such as my interests and my family background."
He nodded then, his eyes mockingly wide as he glared at his plate of food. His hand pushed against his chin, dragging until only his fingertips touched his skin, and his thoughts were racing.
Your answer was interesting and very valid. Also, just the smallest bit predictable but he wouldn't get into that. Anyway, what he got out of your answer should be your definition of intimacy, which he understood now, but the more important piece of knowledge he got resided somewhat else.
Right, let's see. To you, intimacy meant skinship, and intimacy could be initiated by a friend. And if he wasn't a friend, then who else would be? Yes, Lee Jeno.
Basically, what Donghyuck got out of your answer was that (a) Jeno is your friend, which would lead to (b) Jeno initiating skinship with you and you being okay with it, which would ultimately lead to two questions, which were (c) uh, what kind of skinship is he doing with you? and (d) what the hell is this gooey feeling in his chest?
Hilarious, he almost got himself fooled. Of course he knew what the chest tightening meant—jealousy, or perhaps the lighthearted version of it, envy. That he understood, easily.
He walked the face of Earth thinking he was the best thing to ever exist, feeling jealous of other people was bound to happen when the egotism backfires on him.
What he couldn't understand was why? Why would he be jealous? Is he in love with you? No. Does he like you? Absolutely, but he always thought it was only a friendly matter and that it would not be enough for him to want to tear another guy's throat out.
(Donghyuck does not want to tear Jeno's throat out, at least not yet. He was simply confused about his feelings.)
"Would you flinch away if I touch your hand now?" He asked, his voice not at all a tentative approach but his heart was inching carefully toward your response.
"As long as you don't hold it," you said, giving him a firm nod that only induced hopelessness in him.
Jeno could probably hold your hands, could he? Goddamn it, curse that boy for having some history with you back in high school, and curse himself for not snatching the chance to get to you know more as well! Even though he could have never known to befriend you, since he didn't even know you existed, but still—ah! It was infuriating to think about!
He secretly exhaled an annoyed breath. He should probably hold his emotions down and not let this newfound jealousy get to him. It could all just be from a spur of the moment. Until he could trace his feelings back to their roots and chain them down firmly, it would be wise for him to keep it on a down low instead.
"Well... do you think, as of right now, that I am on the track to becoming closer friends with you?" He asked then, his expression suddenly becoming more serious upon the vulnerable question.
You blinked at him, baffled. Seeing him act anxious or timid over such a question was fascinating to you. There was no reason for him to be so coy, was there? He has talked about being your friend, and even your soulmate before, and he was always joking about those. What made this time differently? Could his shyness be an act as well?
Whatever it was, though, you planned to answer him truthfully. "Yes, I think you are," you said with a nod. "I mean, you are eating lunch with me already. I'd say you are pretty close to becoming a good friend."
With that said, his grim mood was instantly lifted. Or, at least, it appeared to you that he was suddenly feeling more lighthearted, with the relaxed shoulders and the quirk of his lips. There were lights in his eyes, as there always has been, but they were brighter, more revealing, unhiding from the depths of his despair.
"Good, I was hoping that would be the case," he said, his voice no longer the timid noise it was when he asked you about you two's establishing a friendship.
He scooted closer to the table, his hand traveling over to the surface and he pressed his index finger against the table cloth, a look of utter exasperation on his face where his brows furrowed and his eyes squinted in feigned pain. With the irregular stubs of his finger, he complained, "You know, I have never had so many problems trying to befriend someone before!"
You looked at him, your expression unchanging as you processed his words and his tone. Donghyuck was obviously exasperated, but why? Simply because you were hard to befriend? You did that on purpose; you make it hard for people to get close to you consciously. Or perhaps not, perhaps you simply could not find it in yourself to get attached to other people.
But why should that matter? You were nobody special. Donghyuck has no reason to obtain so much damage from you being distant from him.
"I don't understand," you uttered then, after having exhaled a rather bated breath.
Your gaze remained on the table, thoughtful and melancholic. Your thoughts to ask him why he wanted to befriend you vanished after a brief moment of being created; even that might be too straightforward for you despite your trademark being extremely blunt.
Gathering yourself together, you let yourself look up at him, and you informed, "You know you don't have to do this right, even if it is for the group project?"
Donghyuck stared at you in bafflement. You couldn't see it on his face, that grimly shocked heart of his was kept hidden well beneath the faint gulp of his throat, but somehow he still feared that your observant self might have taken notice of his charging anxiety anyway.
What happened to you? This conversation has taken a much consequential turn than he expected. He had expected you to take what he said lightly, he had meant for it to be a joke. Being asked such a vague yet resonating question was out of his prediction. Even his quick-wit couldn't fumble enough to find an answer.
It was because he understood what you meant, he believed. At least he liked to think he understood what you meant. You didn't specifically say it out loud, but he knew you were asking him if he knew he could just put all this effort to befriending you down the drain and walk away because either way the group project would be done at the end.
You thought he was sucking up to you for the group project.
Donghyuck's chest heaved painfully. Not quite yet a dead shot to the heart, not that kind of pain. Just a tinge of suffocation, the kind of pain that makes your skin feel hot and your neck go sore. Out of all the times he told you how you've hurt his feelings, the one time where you actually inflicted such pain was when he decided to stay silent.
Turning his hand so his palm stays up, he gestured in a questioning way and he nodded, not in approval but encouragement as he confronted something you were surprised he noticed.
"If there is something you want to ask, you should just ask me straightforwardly," he said, "as you normally will."
You widened your eyes a fraction. He noticed.
He noticed that you were deceiving him, which was fine. Plenty of people have noticed your little lies here and there before. And you weren't so much as scared that he confronted you about hiding something from him; you always made sure you think before you speak, and you always made sure you leave enough space to weasel your way out of taking responsibility for what you chose not to tell.
You were just surprised that instead of pinning the deception back onto himself, to ask what it meant for him that you had to hide, Donghyuck had flipped it over and encouraged you to reveal what you wanted to say.
He probably noticed the severity of it, because you never lie, and he was considerate enough to pick up how it would mean business the one time you do.
"I don't understand why you want to be my friend," you said after much contemplation, your eyes dead set on his face as if to catch any slip-up in his answer. "If it's not about me benefiting your grades, then what is it? I'm of no use without that."
"I–" he paused to lick his lower lip, trying to think of something to say.
That is a terrible mindset; the act of only getting close to someone simply so you could take advantage of them is a terrible mindset. The Lord knows how much Donghyuck was familiar with that, having him grow up around people who make a living out of thinking around all their networks and relationships.
It wasn't just the grown-ups. The people around him, too, play a significant part in shaping his experience with being the recyclable gold. And hated it. He hated the people who would uphold the ideal, he hated being the puppet of it, and he hated being associated with it, even if it was through an assumption.
But he could not bring himself to get mad at you, even if you have intentionally assumed him to be one of the people he hated the most. There must be a reason why you thought this way, and his best guess was that you have experienced the same horror; the realization that you were replaceable, that people only find you when they need you, that you were about to be abandoned because you couldn't bring the connection anymore.
It takes a chunk out of your heart, the stolen flesh leaving a gaping hole that could take forever to mend. It was the pain of inadequacy, the loneliness of public solitary, the hollowness stuck in your chest.
Looking at you carefully, with his features softened to make you feel less threateningly vulnerable, he wondered who's hurt you before for you to have such a low sense of self-worth that you couldn't think of any other reason for him wanting to be your friend outside of the promise of academic success.
"I am not the type of people to befriend someone simply because they can benefit me," he said, his head shaking slightly. "If we are ever going to become good friends, I need you to know that, and I do want to be good friends with you."
"That is what I am asking," you pressed on calmly, your fingers tugging at each other under the table, your nervousness invisible. "Why?"
"What else? Because I like you," he replied honestly, his voice rising in an almost worrisome manner, like he was nagging you about his feelings. "Because I think you're cool, and I think we can be interesting together, as good friends."
You sucked in a deep breath. This wasn't good, you have been inhaling for too long that you have forgotten how to exhale. You have gotten your answer, a genuine answer it seemed, but that wasn't enough. It has been too long since you last allowed yourself to open up to anybody, to actively commit to a friendship.
Even with Jeno, whom you appreciated dearly and was always so kind to you. Sometimes you thought your friendship was only being fueled by his constant excitement, and you were merely responding to it instead of reciprocating it. Somehow he has never complained about that, and you suspected he was simply too understanding of your personality to point it out.
Your mind wasn't used to not pushing people away despite your intention being otherwise.
"Thank you for being honest with me, Donghyuck, but..." you sniffed, your heart silencing and the oxygen held back by your pursed lips. You didn't breathe as you spoke, "I'm not good at being friends with people, at all. I have a really bad habit of not engaging, so I don't think you should waste your time."
Actively pushing people away—Donghyuck had thought of doing that. If people are hurting him, if nobody truly appreciates him, he should stop being around any of them when it isn't necessary to do so. But he was never one to enjoy solitary. He liked to be surrounded by chatters, he liked to be surrounded by lively presences, he liked the sense of intimacy, as artificial as it was.
So he kept going, he kept being around the masked ones, only to find that he felt more lonely than ever. Yet he never chose to stop.
You were two sides of the same coin. The only difference was that Donghyuck adapted to the pain while you settled with spending your life looking over your shoulders, checking if anyone crossed over your bubble.
He was left with loneliness and you with paranoia; they are different kinds of pain, but they are still pain, nonetheless.
"Well, you would be very surprised," he said, pointing at you. "I am the king of being overwhelming, you will have no choice but to engage."
The grip you had on your fingers tightened as you frowned at Donghyuck. How infuriatingly persistent, almost like Jeno except he always brought some challenges to the table, whether to test your patience or to sizzle your curiosity.
You would normally hate it, as you preferred to only have to repeat yourself once, even though you'd continue to do it with no complaints if the action was necessary. But he made it impossible to bring any negativity to the table because he has only been genuine and entertaining, even when he was unreasonably shameless or daring.
Maybe Jeno was right. Friends aren't just here for your needs, they aren't just here for shortcuts and benefits. They can just be people you like, people you like to spend time with.
And you are fond of Donghyuck, as a person and of all the time you have spent talking to him.
He could be your friend, you just have to try letting him in.
Seeing that you weren't responding to him, his cheeks suddenly flushed and a rare embarrassment rose to his chest. God, to be ignored after saying such mushy words, words that were a confession, was certainly a level of humiliation even he could not handle.
Dipping his head as a curt nod of acknowledgment of your silence, he planned to retreat his hand. However, before he could pull away, you had timidly brought your hand up from under the table and reached out to clamp it over his hand.
Donghyuck perked up to look at you, his eyes wide in surprise.
You returned his gaze with a much calmer demeanor as if this was meant to happen. Squeezing his palm slightly, you finally let yourself breathe out as you told him, "I think I'm not going to flinch away."
He softened, tenderly delighted, and he flashed you a warm smirk of acknowledgment. "You're not."
The moment was honey-like. A mutual understanding was established, as was a peculiar friendship. It was the kind of moment that would play out in slow motion, with white lights floating at the back and the muffled noises of all the passerby. But, instead of that, all Donghyuck received was a calculative smile and a question he didn't want to hear.
"So how much is my meal, Lee Donghyuck?" You asked, clenching your grip on his head to inflict discomfort and to prevent him from retreating to his seat. "As a friend, you are required to tell me the truth."
He laughed a low and defeated chuckle. Well, that was easier than he thought it would be! Seemed like you two were officially friends now, even though he had a thought that you only said it to your convenience and you might take back your word when he brings it up in the future.
The eye-roll he flashed you was strained because of the sudden furrowing of his brows. A pained whine leaving his lips when you tightened your grip around his hand, seeing that he had no plans of answering you seriously, and holy hell, were you strong!
"Okay, okay! I surrender! I'm sorry–ahh! Stop bruising my hand!" He exclaimed dramatically, lowering his head and putting on a crying face.
You slipped your hand away from him, frowning as you side-eyed your surrounding to find people looking over at your table. You exhaled, your shoulders slumping as you pursed your lips at him, a hopeless look on your face. "It wasn't my intention to hurt you that much."
Donghyuck moved away from the table, snickering at you. He busied himself with rubbing his hand, trying to act as if he wasn't trying to feel the lingering warmth stacked on top and questioning himself why he has to self-sabotage all the time. "But you did! It was painful!"
"I'm sorry about that. If it is any consolation, I could have hurt you even worse," you pointed out, clamping your hand into fists repeatedly before stopping at a carefully curled fist. You genuinely didn't use much strength. Perhaps being around Jeno and his absolute disregard for his strength was finally getting to you.
"This would not have happened if you had just told me how much my meal cost." Keeping your fist in the air, you looked at Donghyuck, dead eyes blazing, and you asked again, "You haven't answered me, so I will ask for again, for the third time. How much is it?"
He looked away, grumbling under his breath, "Like... hirty?"
He mumbled too much, you couldn't hear clearly. Leaning forward, you shook your head and asked, "What did you say?"
"I said–" he bit his lower lip, trying to suppress a defeated smile, "–it's like... thirty dollars."
Thirty...?
Thirty?
For what? For a meal that didn't taste that much different than other stores and was being served in the tiniest portion you have seen? Hell, the society has gone insane, this was insane. The brain-rotting, nails-chipping kind of insane, not the heart-thumping, cheeks-blushing kind of insane.
But, besides that, what you were worried about the most was the fact that Donghyuck would be the one paying. That was far from five dollars, what the fresh hell was he thinking?
You opened your mouth to speak, to retort, to refuse his offer once again, but he was quick to reach his palm up and stop you from talking. The shit-eating, bratty pout on his face made you scoff, but somehow it was compelling enough to keep your lips sealed tight as he looked away, a playful "Hmph!" leaving his throat once in a while.
"I'm not hearing any of your excuses. You already said I'm your friend so this–" he moved his hand in a circular motion, gesturing at you and him, "–is technically okay. You said it, no take-backs!"
You hummed, your nose scrunched up in the realization that you did declare him your friend. Well, that was a mistake on your part. You should not have let your tongue slip that easily, especially with somebody like Donghyuck. However, even if he was right, you still could not get over the fact that there would be an imbalance in the friendship.
Him paying you thirty dollars and you paying him five; it's a small difference, to him perhaps, but a big and icky difference to you. And you planned to refute it despite him saying he wouldn't listen to you.
Before you could open your mouth to speak again, a prolonged buzz vibrated at your pocket, and the conversation was interrupted with a loud, destructive ringtone.
You quickly frowned, your head turning to look at your pocket before you fished out your phone. Donghyuck relaxed then, his hand dropping to the table as he watched you frown at the phone number for a good second before answering finally picking up the call.
The more you listened to the person on the other line talk, the more your expression dropped. Soon enough, the previously annoyed look on your face was replaced with concern, anger, panic, anxiety—a lot more he didn't take into account.
He couldn't even understand how you managed to display such a range of emotions in one simple look, but you did, and he has never been able to read so much off your face before that it was almost interesting to him. If only you didn't seem so distressed, he would have said something about it.
"Yes, okay, okay," you nodded, holding the phone tight to your ear. "Yes, no problem, I will come to fetch him right away. Thank you, I apologize for the inconvenience."
Donghyuck watched you put your phone down, a large breath being sucked into your mouth before you turned to him. You looked as if you were in a daze, your brain still trying to process the terrible information you just received. There was a flash of distaste in your mouth, your heart wanting to keep discussing the problem with the meal, but you assumed you would have to find a way to solve that another time.
"I'm sorry, Donghyuck, but can I ask you for a favor?" You asked.
He snapped out of his trance, blinking as he nodded at you. "Yeah, what is it?"
"I was hoping you can drive me somewhere," you said, fiddling with your fingers. "To, uh, a police station."