Just the Two of Us (9) | Kim Taehyung
In which two ambiverts who are conscientious, resourceful, firm, and slightly egoistic happen to realise, discover, and explore the possibility of being in love. It’s a dream-like almost magical romance focusing on what I love to call “the butterfly inducing effect”. So, get comfy, grab a tub of ice cream, maybe get a few tissues and be prepared to experience romance like no other and fall in love.
I fell in love with you,
I don’t know why,
I don’t know how,
I just did.
Tags/Warnings :- An Office Au, Ceo!Taehyung, Secretary!Y/N A fairytale at an office. Cheesy. Highly Romantic. TaehyungxReader.
“That, is a horrible idea.”
“How exactly? Having lunch with her is the least risky option you’ve got.”
“We’re not even friends.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? She won’t magically fall in love with you if you don’t do anything!”
“Yes, but I don’t want to rush it!”
No matter how much I resent this, I somehow always end up asking Seokjin Hyung for advice on this stupid thing. I utterly hate it. From the very first moment we came up with such a horrendous idea, up until now, when I'm trying to wrap my head around this whole fake dating concept on a call with Hyung.
“It’s just a leap of faith Tae, that's all it takes.”
“Who am I? Miles Morales?”
“You’re not really saving the universe mate.”
“Why does this feel tougher than that?”
I ask in exasperation and sink back in my chair. How could I possibly ask her for lunch?
Just then, my eyes land on a pink sticky note laying on the desk. Thoughts of the previous night run through my mind like a tape recorder and I read the note with a smile.
Thank you for the coffee and medicine, sir:)
Then it clicks. The gears in my brain start moving and the dots start connecting. I clap my hands sharply, say goodbye to Seokjin Hyung and end the call. I know what to do.
I tap my feet nervously, more so impatiently while my eyes dart back and forth the door and the computer screen. The document on the monitor remains unattended because the only thing running through my mind is a reply. A response, from Y/N. Earlier, after my call with Hyung, I asked Y/N to have lunch with me. Through a sticky note. I carefully constructed the message and stuck it on her desk when she wasn’t around, hoping to receive a positive reply. It's been two hours since, and I'm starting to think that I’d never have that lunch with her.
The door opens and strangely, my heart skips a beat when Y/N walks into the office.
“The files you asked for sir.” Y/N hands them to me and I toss it to the side, anxiously waiting for her to say something about lunch.
She was dressed in a loose white blouse with a large white bow hanging around her collar. The blouse was neatly tucked into a burgundy pencil skirt. Half of her hair was pinned up while the other wavy half rested on her shoulders. I don’t know if I am allowed to say this, but oh God, she looked beautiful.
Fantastic. Is she pretending to not have read the note? Did I screw this up? I should have just asked her like a normal person.
“No, that’s all.” Yeah, that’s all. Guess I’ll die alone now.
“You might want to open the file sir.” She urges before walking out with a smile.
I open the file to find a sticky note at the top with Y/N’s handwriting.
Lunch sounds great sir. Cafeteria at 1:30?
I feel like a sixteen-year-old teenager whose crush just agreed to go to prom with him. The smile that spreads across my face doesn’t go away for a long time.
I fidget with the keys in my pocket and look straight ahead at the turquoise blue Turkish tiles behind the service counter. I glance back at Y/N every now and then, while waiting for the lady behind the counter to serve our food. Y/N was looking out of the large glass panes that stretched across the length and breadth of the wall. The cafeteria overlooked a lovely, exotic, lush green landscape.
The woman places two trays on the counter with a smile. I thank her and carry the food to our table.
“Hope you're hungry.” I say before placing the trays on the table and settling down on a chair.
As both her and I take the first bites of our food, it becomes apparent on our faces. The pure and inexplicable jaw-dropper. We simultaneously realise that the food at our very own cafeteria, at our very own workplace is…shockingly delicious. Y/N’s eyes widen a bit and I can’t seem to stop eating.
“You sure this is from our cafeteria sir?” She asks completely puzzled.
“I had no idea the food here was this good.” I wave my hands in the air in bewilderment.
“It only took us two years.” She laughs back.
“To discover amazing food three floors below us.” I finish her sentence and laugh along.
This is nice. Not too bad of a beginning.
“So, how are things with repulsive Rachel?” I initiate. ‘Repulsive Rachel’ is our lovely nickname for the CTO of the Californian company, Affinity Assets. The irritating and obnoxiously demanding woman who tried quite hard to hit on me.
“Eh, she’s warming up to us. To me. I purposely let her know about extremely boring details and give her tons of information because she wanted ‘additional care’. It’s takes time for her to process things and that helps shut her up.”
“You should hold meetings to decide the layout and background colour of PowerPoint presentations. You know, because we care about ‘additional care’.” I suggest with a smirk.
“A step ahead of you sir. We’re already bothering her about how she would like her files to be bookmarked and annotated.”
“Oh good, do it in the complete opposite way.”
“I’m sorry sir, but I’m committed to professional and diligent file bookmarking.” She said in a serious-goofy voice.
“I appreciate the hard work Y/N.” I say in a pretentious superior tone as we start laughing.
However just as the laughter dies out and silence engulfs us, I feel this weird thing. Awkwardness?
Then it occurs to me. We had never actually talked before. Didn’t have much of a conversation unless work was involved. Wow, I’ve been here for two years and learnt almost little to nothing about somebody who practically spent everyday day with me.
Having enough of the succumbing silence, I ask the most boring question ever. “Do you read?”
“Occasionally. Not an avid reader.” Her reply comes instantly almost as if she knew what I was going to ask or as if the silence was bothering her too.
“How about you sir? Do you have an interest in books?”
“Same as you actually. I love books when I read them, but I’m not an avid reader.”
“Speaking of books…” I continue. “You really don’t have to read that book and give me a review of it.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders drop. “Too late, I was going to submit my very elaborate and meticulously detailed report after lunch.” She says with a raised eyebrow followed by a helpless shrug.
“Looks like I’m the one with homework now.” I say, “How many pages is it?”
“A little over two thousand words sir. Not much.” In response to her smug smile, I dramatically drop my fork and place a palm over my chest.
A few moments later, she revives the dying conversation with a better and deeper question.
“Is there a quote that you live by?”
I stop chewing and frown. I actually don’t mind the out of the blue, intuitive question. I try hard to think of a quote. Or at least pretend to. After a prolonged and unnecessarily dramatic pause I begin.
“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. Wayne Gretzky.” I finish with a smile hoping that she would understand the reference.
“By Michael Scott.” She adds as a grin creeps up to her face.
“I didn’t know you were a fan.”
“Truth to be told, half of my humour is based on The Office sir.”
“Hmm, we should talk more.” I fold my hands and rest them on the table with sarcastic curiosity.
We go back to eating until she looks at me with a sceptical smile. As if she was testing me of being a true fan. “Would you rather be loved or feared?”
I instantly make the Jim Halpert face and reply without skipping a best.
“Easy. Both. I want people to be afraid of how much they love me. Who’s your favourite character?” I ask without skipping a beat.
“Oh, Creed. Actually no. As much as I love his blog, I think Meredith resonates with me.” She replies with a Pam-like mischievous smile.
At that very moment we burst out laughing. In fact, we laugh so much and so loudly that people in the cafeteria look at us without questionable excursion on their faces. And just like that, all the awkwardness vanished into…nothing? It just felt right. I’m glad that The Office, turned out to be an ice breaker. The irony. As we compose ourselves and begin to eat again, I get caught in a daze. I want to sincerely thank the architects who installed the large glass panels so perfectly because the way the sunlight falls on her face is making it so hard for me to stop looking at her. Also thank God the food is incredible because while Y/N was focused entirely on the ramen, she failed to notice my gaping self admiring how perfectly golden her skin was, how perfectly elegantly the random strands of her hair framed her face and how perfectly serene she looked. Hell! She looked great even when slurping noodles! Who does that? She looks up with confusion, feeling my dumbfounded gaze on her. I immediately look away and pretend like I wasn’t staring at her for the past two minutes.
“Is there a problem sir?”
My head shoots up instantaneously.
“What? No- of course not.” I say rapidly and shake my head violently. Why am I so nervous? This never happens.
Confused by my unusual behaviour she frowns with a small smile that shows off her dimple. Which I notice, for the first time, on her left cheek. It’s not that I didn’t know, I’ve seen it before. But it feels different now for some reason. I feeling like poking her dimple with my finger. Okay, I’m being weird now.
The room around us starts to disappear. The background behind beginning to darken. The ramen, the botanical garden, the lady behind the counter. Everyone. Except Y/N. She’s also happens to be staring back at me and it's almost like neither of us wanted to break the silence. I spot a tiny little scar, sitting right at the top of her left eyebrow. It would be visible only if one were to sit close enough and stare at her face long enough.
As we snap out of our absurd staring competition, I notice that a small bit of ramen sauce had found its way to the corner of Y/N’s mouth. “You’ve got something on-“ I signal to her mouth while Y/N tries but miserably fails to locate it.
The very next moment, I reach over and swiftly wipe it off with my thumb. My hand hovers over her jaw, centimetres away. I lock my eyes with her slightly widened ones. Scratch whatever I said about the room starting to disappear earlier. If this isn’t my KDrama moment right here, I don’t know what is. I hear her fork slip through her fingers and drop into the bowl. Did I fluster her? I retrieve my hand and go back to eating with a smile on my face. She looked cute.
I was nervous for no reason. Maybe I shouldn’t worry to much about trying to make a good impression. Great, now it feels like I’m here for an interview.
We finish eating the rest of the food in silence only to occasionally look up and smile at each other. Believe it or not, I’ve become friends with my own assistant. Sort of. I took the leap of faith and look where it got me. To one of the nicest lunches I’ve had.
“Same time, tomorrow?” I ask with anticipation.
“Can’t wait.” She smiles.
