Warm Hands (Ice Cold Heart) | Jimin x Reader

Two

"Ah, Jimin! You're here."

As soon as you enter the foyer, where cocktail tables draped in white tablecloths are set up here and there like wild mushrooms, a familiar voice intercepts your path. Before you turn to see who it is, you give yourself a split second to scan the room, searching for a face you are relieved not to find. Only then do you swivel your head to find the Leungs on your right, wrinkling faces on full display with how widely they smile at the two of you.

You feel yourself relax a bit at the warm welcome. If you had to talk to anyone first, you'd rather it be them. The Leungs are a kind, elderly couple, long-time friends and investors in Promise Media, the massive advertising agency that Jimin's family owns and runs. Promise is one of the sponsors of tonight's annual event, so it's little surprise that people like the Leungs would be here. Your parents would've been invited too, with or without your new connection to Jimin, but they're currently overseas. Probably for the best, as it's so much harder to fool them.

Mrs. Leung, on the other hand, is easily distracted as she positively beams at you. "It's so wonderful to see you here. I absolutely adore your dress," she gushes. "Is it Gucci?"

"Yes, Jimin picked it out for me." Not actually a lie — you found it hanging on your closet door earlier this evening with a simple For You written in black ink on a plain card. To your great surprise, the dark red piece was exactly to your minimalist tastes, and in your size. A perfect match to the tie that offsets your husband's suit, so you look unmistakably like a couple. You have to commend him for thinking of it; it's a great cover.

"Jimin's always had good taste." Mrs. Leung smiles again, in a way that doesn't let you miss the double entendre in her compliment. You know she means so well, but the thought of Jimin choosing you still makes your heart twist just a bit as you fight to keep your face cheerful. Luckily, she continues on. "We've only just arrived ourselves. Had to come early to have enough time to sneak in some appetizers before dinner. I hear they're serving those little shrimp things again! I love those. Half the reason I come here at all!" She lowers her voice conspiratorially. "Other half is the free champagne." At that, she chuckles, patting your arm with so much fondness that you can't help but smile along. "Oh, but my dear, this must be the first time you're attending our Christmas bash, isn't it? Since you and Jimin met right after Christmas last year."

You have every intention of agreeing with her. That's the story you've let the general public believe after all: it was at a New Years event where you and Jimin happened to literally bump into each other, a mishap where you spilled red wine on his shirt and then looked into each others' eyes and saw your future together or some cliche bullshit like that. A month later, you were standing at the altar. It's just... simpler to just let that romantic rumor swirl around, for anyone who wants to question the speed of your wedding. "Ye—"

"Actually, we've known each other much longer than that," Jimin says merrily as he takes two flutes of champagne off a nearby waiter's tray and offers them to your conversation partners. Then he repeats the action, this time handing a glass to you. He pointedly ignores the haphazardly-disguised look of shock you shoot him.

Mrs. Leung's eyes sparkle. "Oh?"

"We went to the same high school." Jimin takes a pull from his glass just as Mrs. Leung leans in for more. You can practically see curiosity shooting like cartoon lightning bolts from her eyes as she's forced to wait while he drinks at a careful pace, just long enough to keep her on the hook, but not long enough to bore. He's always been a gifted storyteller, a born charmer. You know it's not a talent he lets go to waste, by the few online meetings you've been within earshot of, passing through the living room. But you don't know what he's playing at now, telling a truth you'd long buried. You watch, slightly panicked as he swallows the mouthful, plush lips glistening with lingering drink as they curve into a grin. "She was two years below me. Always wandering around the halls with her head buried in a book. So cute." Your husband gives you a look so sweet you think you might throw up.