LET ME - taehyun x oc

CHAPTER 4 🔞

TAEHYUN
The Next Day

The apartment is messy. The purse Violet had last night lays on the floor of the entryway, next to her running shoes. I pick it up and hang it on the hook of the shoe closet next to the door.

She caresses my arm softly, shooting me a timid smile as she drops her house keys on the table.

"Do you want some tea?" she calls out from the kitchen.

"Maybe some coffee instead?" I suggest tentatively, noticing the dull, but still lingering hangover headache. She smiles and nods, pulling a tin of ground coffee out of the cabinet.

We spent the morning talking under the tree where I found her. She explained everything-- how Jaesung was her first love, how they've known each other since they were kids, spending summers together in Anyang. He kissed her for the first time when she was 16 and they fell in love.

He made her feel special when all the other kids would reject her for being different. He filled a void she had inside her that got bigger and bigger as she realized she didn't fit in anywhere.

"My school friends would make fun of the kimchi my mom would pack for me," she explained, her voice breaking as she recalled the painful memories. "They said it smelled weird and that it looked gross. But when I came to Korea, the kids here would make fun of me because I looked different and didn't speak Korean fluently. I was too Korean to be American, and too American to be Korean..."

It all makes sense now; why she dove head first into us, but panicked once she realized how deep it would be. She's scared of having her heart broken again.

I watch her from the door frame as she gets on her tiptoes to grab the coffee filters. Her legs are  long and lean, and the muscles on her arms are well-defined. She's a little shorter than me, but she's got the body of an athlete.

"Do you wanna go for a run later?" I suggest, as she fills the coffee maker with water. She turns over her shoulder, shooting me a look.

She's not a conventional beauty; at least not by Korean standards. Her American side is evident in the shape of her eyes and nose, the fullness of her lips, and the curves of her body. But her high cheekbones and raven black hair are from her mother. Her practicality and groundedness too.

She's perfect.

"Is that your hangover cure?" she laughs, noticing the tired look in my eyes. I chuckle, putting my hands in my pockets as she turns her attention back to the coffee machine.

I touch the crisp paper of the note she left me this morning. She seems to be feeling better, but there's a palpable heaviness between us.

I can't imagine what it must feel like to be cheated on. I saw the pain in her eyes as she told me what happened. How her friend in Anyang texted her a picture of Jaesung kissing another girl after he moved to Busan, right before she was about to uproot her life in the US for him.

She flips the coffee maker on and turns around to face me, pressing her hands on the counter. She doesn't look at me, but I can't take my eyes off of her. Her hair is up in a messy ponytail, her face puffy from the alcohol and tears. But I'm drawn to her as if she were the most beautiful thing in the world.

I think I love her.

"I should probably make us some breakfast-" she chuckles timidly, turning her back to me as she steps to the fridge. "Do you want some eggs?"

She scans the contents of her refrigerator, pulling out a carton of eggs, some vegetables, and a stick of butter.

"I make the best hangover omelettes-" she grins, placing the ingredients on the counter. Her bangs fall gently over her brow, framing her profile perfectly.