T A S T E || Jeon Jungkook

X

I stumbled and fell as I was impatiently running to the elevator in heels that were so high that they were almost criminal. My hand hit the floor as I tumbled, breaking my fall. It didn't occur to me that I wasn't alone in the elevator until I opened my eyes.

"Shit" I hissed, trying my best to stand without falling through the glass windows. I brushed off my dress, retrieving my clutch bag from the floor. I didn't bother looking around- it was awkward enough that whoever it was had seen me fall on my face about four seconds previously. At least I didn't know them. That would have been embarrassing.

"Are you alright?" He asked. I kept my head down, nodding, trying not to make myself identifiable.

"Fine thank you," I said, keeping my eyes locked on the door whilst waiting for the awkward ride to be over. However, the longer I wanted it to be over, the slower time got.

"Need me to help you get to your table?" He chuckled, implying that I couldn't walk on my own. Granted, it was good judgement, but I didn't need the sarcasm. He stood a little closer to me, clearing his throat, "besides, I'll be sitting there too"

I cursed in my head; hoping, begging, pleading for it not to be Jungkook.

I looked up, embarrassed and slightly flushed. He was looking at me with a small smile across his face, folding his arms. I looked back down, sighing to myself. Turns out, having your date see you fall over your own feet before even saying hello is damaging enough to make you want to peel your own face off.

"Come on," he said, as he held out his hand, "let's go"

The door opened, leading us into a beautiful room decorated like what I can only presume is what a palace looks like. Very formal, white, pristine. It was almost as if they repainted the room after every visit.

It smelled clean, but the hint of lemon from the towelettes at the front desk drew my attention. They were warm, almost as if they were inviting you in from the cold. The atmosphere was very pleasant and I had almost immediately forgotten about tripping over my own shoe.

"It's lovely in here" I smiled, looking around, "do you come here a lot?"

"I come here on special occasions. They're one of my top places to visit- I hope you enjoy it here"

It was flattering that he thought it was a special occasion. I tried my best to not get over excited, but I'm sure he saw right through me like the window I almost fell through.

We were sat at our tables promptly by a man who's name tag read "Pierre". Such a beautiful name. Rolls right off the tongue, don't you think?

He was a slender, relatively tall man with dark oiled hair and a small matching moustache. His tie was perfect over his whiter-than-white shirt. He stood with poise; his waist coat not showing a single crease or crinkle. He handed us a menu each, taking a pen from his breast pocket.

"May I get you a drink to start?" He asked, clicking the pen.

"Yes, I'll have a red wine- whatever you suggest. And for the lady, a white wine spritzer should suffice, hm?" Jungkook asked, waiting for my approval.

I nodded, smiling. I felt as though he knew me so well already.

Pierre smiled, turning on his heels and walking away. I watched him, almost mesmerised. I was soon stopped by my train of thought, though, wondering how much money my evening meal alone would cost. Surely over a months rent based on the decor and wine list options.

"Everything here is pretty expensive, I'm not sure I can even afford anything on this menu" I sighed, scanning through the price list.

"Well, we're on a date. It would be incredibly rude of me to ask you to pay for your own meal, now wouldn't it?" He asked rhetorically, pushing my menu down a little so that our eyes met, "don't you worry about the price. I'll pay for you"

I smiled, internally feeling a little guilty. I decided that out of courtesy, I wasn't going to choose the lobster or the overly large steak with a huge side of skinned potato wedges. One of those dishes would not only fill me for a week, but would also have me selling my car to pay the rest of the bill.

The smell from the kitchen, which was very near our table, was overpowering in a good way. But then again, so was Jungkook. He wore an all black suit, tie and all. His hair was swept back and his right hand held a beautiful ring on his middle finger. It was silver- the most shiny object I had ever lain my eyes upon.

"That's a beautiful ring" I remarked, "where did you get it?"

"My father," he began, sitting up straight, "he gave it to me before he went away on his travels. He comes back now and then with little trinkets and objects that can be saved as heirlooms. But that's not very often. I choose to wear my fathers ring to remind me of how great he is. I love my father dearly- this ring is a constant reminder of how much I idolise him. Of course, when he gave it to me it was too big to fit on my little fingers. I was ten years old. Every year I have it shined to keep its value alive. It's a rather spectacular story, don't you think? At least I do- and one day I'd like to pass it down to my own son when he's old enough"

I was beginning to get lost in his eyes. He was so thoughtful- and I had never thought he'd be the type to be so poetic. I was in some sort of trance; that is, until Pierre came back with our drinks.

He placed them down on the table, taking a breath and smiling relatively sweetly.

"Would you like to order?"