Roséanne presses the send button and quickly closes her phone.
After the dinner, her mom, Aunt Mijeong, and Alice went to go look at the paintings in the hallway while her dad and Uncle Pilwoo had a drink in the manor bar. She wanted to go, just to avoid being with Jimin, but of course her father and Uncle Pilwoo disagreed.
Now she's stuck in the balcony with the idiot and there seems to be no way out. Why stuck, you may ask. Apparently, the lock of the balcony door was broken from the inside, so they had to wait for a locksmith to open it so they could go back in the manor. That means only the two of them were outside, bathed in the cold night air and with an awkward between them.
(Roséanne knows that this is all planned by their families, and Jimin seems to think the same as well.)
"I'd rather die than be here," she says loudly, putting her chin on the palm of her hand and propping it on the balcony.
A snort echoes from the other side. "I'd gladly give you a push if you want. I heard the grass down there was recently trimmed. You should test it out."
Roséanne huffs. "Maybe if you show me first, then I'd agree."
"I doubt you would."
The silence returns again. Roséanne opens her phone again and scrolls through Twitter, entertaining herself with the latest gossip and whatnot.
Jimin suddenly coughs, so she looks back at him.
"What? Are you choking to death?"
"No," he shakes his head. "It stinks in here."
She chuckles. "Speaking about yourself now, aren't you?"
From a bystander, their exchange probably sounds childish, but they don't care. Just as long as the underlying message in their words is clear, they're fine. As long as the other knows that the other abhors him or her, it's all good.
Jimin goes to the balcony door and shakes it open. He tries the handles a few times, even going as to far as pushing it, but nothing. Roséanne watches this from the side, one of her brow raised upwards.
"It won't work, stop trying," she sighs as she twirls a strand of her hair in her finger. "I'm pretty sure they did this on purpose. It'll be open in a few minutes."
He turns to look at her. "Huh," he murmurs, "you seem to like being stuck with me."
"I'd kill myself first before that happens."
He smirks. "Got quite a mouth on you, don't you? Someone should teach you what to do with it."
This is another thing that people couldn't understand between them. Yes, they weren't on good terms, but sometimes the words that slip out from their mouth were far from hatred.
(She clearly doesn't mind. Jimin seems to like it, too.)
"Why don't you?" She bites back, staring at him.
He smirks and walks closer to her, until she could smell his perfume. "I'll think about it."
Roséanne waves him off. "Considering your lack of braincells, I think you wouldn't even get past through the first part."
Shrugging nonchalantly, Jimin leans onto the balcony a few feet away from her. Roséanne ignores him and minds her own business.
Not long after, the door "miraculously" opened and they were greeted by their parents who claimed that they managed to fix it on their own.
(They both know that it was far from the truth, but screw it.)
