A model with a heart of money and an executive whose only matters regard his business. In light of scandals and a dazed stare among stars, can they make it to victory, and regain confidence in what was lost? Or will it fall apart at the hems of her...
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๑ I DON'T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND ME AT ALL.
just don't understand ✧ chapter 34
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I press the floor button, alone. I asked Mr. Li to give me some space away from him, and he humbly respected–perhaps because it was already midnight, and if I let him stay any longer, he surely would've fallen asleep on the job. But, these days, I haven't been feeling myself. I think it might be because I've made a subtle realization about Taehyun and I's lives and how different we are, so it's been irking me. I've been wanting to tell him how I feel... but he wouldn't understand.
Or, at least, I don't think he would. As much as we've seen the depths of each other's lives, and as much as we perceived about the other, I don't know if I could confide in him as much as I want to yet. I still have my doubts, and I just don't find myself wanting them to be freed.
The elevator opens. I'm unleashed into Taehyun's terrain. It's quiet, as per usual, but I thought that Sorin would at least be here. Turns out she's not–because it would be way louder if she was. I take a few steps into the department, heels clacking as quietly as I could make them. "Taehyun?" That ass better be here. He said we were going to get some food once he was done, and that he was driving me home. If he's not, I swear I'll write up a really mean article about him exploiting models!
Actually, I won't. I love him too much to do that.
"Kang Tae–!" I open the door to his private designing room to see him quiet, arms bracing the white table with amounts of nonwoven fabric under him. I held the door open, gripping it tight, hoping that intruding wouldn't set him off. The silence's deafening–shoot, it feels like I just died when I walked in. His breathing kills the silence, though, because the more I listen in, the more I could hear it: His sharp inhales, and the tremor when he exhaled.
"I can't do it. W-Why can't I do it?" I could barely hear his whispers if it wasn't for the silence between us. His hands suddenly slam down on the table, still avoiding all forms of fabric. "WHY? WHY CAN'T I TOUCH A SINGLE PIECE!?"
I try to move forward, a hand reaching out as I stand next to him. "T-Taehyun–"
"I DON'T GET IT!" He shoves my hand away, moving to the other side of the table, evidently trying to get away from me. I swallow, wondering how to comfort him–if that was even possible in this situation. He shakes his head endlessly, tears pooling in his eyes. "I don't understand it myself. I don't understand why I can't do this for myself. Why can't I touch a single piece, even if I don't do anything with it? Why does it bother me that I'm doing this for no important purpose?"
