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“Sorry...I just stared into your eyes.”
Heat rushes to your cheeks; fidgeting, you look down, overwhelmed by his real-life presence. Han Jumin himself, tall and broad-shouldered and utterly gorgeous—dare you say it, even more handsome than Zen.
There’s no way this is going to work , your inner critic screams. Just look at him. Do you really think you belong with someone like him? He’s practically royalty.
You glance back up at Jumin, who’s adjusting his (absolutely real) diamond cufflinks. At least say something, don’t just stand here like a bump on a log. A cough, then; “Jumin...I’m so glad to finally meet you.”
“I never expected you to come to my house.”
“Oh, I...I’ll go then, I didn’t mean to--”
“No, it’s just...I feel a bit nervous to actually see you like this.”
“I’m sorry.” You hang your head again, shuffling your feet, hyper-aware of your old, worn-out, discount sneakers against cool, polished marble.
“Don’t be sorry. I thought I’d get to meet you at the party.” Jumin reaches, long fingers brushing your round face as he tilts your head back up, forcing you to meet his dark gaze. “Wasn’t it dangerous on the way here? We still haven’t caught the hacker.”
“Oh...Jaehee made sure I traveled safe. I figured if anyone could secure, well, uh, secure transportation, it’d be her. With her being your assistant and all, I’m sure she’s used to doing things with caution.”
Jumin cocks an eyebrow, but his fingers don’t leave your chin. “Is that so? Then good.” He pauses for another long minute before speaking again; you can feel your cheeks burning, sensitive skin with flaming nerves where his fingertips hold the tip of your chin.
“Oh, sorry. I can’t help but keep staring at you. I still can’t quite believe it.” He closes his eyes and sighs. “It would have been better if I went to pick you up. Anyway...what did you come here for? You know you can tell me if you need anything.” His hand finally falls from your chin.
“What did I come here for...are you angry?”
“No.” Jumin swallows hard; though it’s hard to believe, his porcelain cheeks are tinged a soft pink.
Are you , a chubby nobody from nowhere, making the rich and powerful Han Jumin blush ?
“Jaehee...said you seemed to be having a hard time and that I should visit you. I came...” because I think I might be falling in love with you... “because I got worried.”
Jumin’s eyes widen. “So...she asked that of you.” His face settles back into comfortable neutrality, but the color on his face doesn’t dissipate. “I didn’t realize she’d make such an outrageous request when the hacker’s still at large. But...I’m quite happy that you worried for me.” He smiles, and though you’ve never seen him in person before this moment, something tells you that this smile is genuine.
“Regardless,” he continues, “I’m glad that you’re here safe. Welcome to my home, ___________. You seem to have come a long way, so I hope you rest up.” Jumin steps to the side, gesturing to the grand couch and oversized armchairs behind him. “Please take advantage of anything in the house, and if you need anything, I will get it for you immediately.”
You step inside, wiping your feet on the mat just inside the door; you take off your shoes and place them next to his polished back Oxfords, brushing past him as you gaze around a living room suite that could have been on the cover of a magazine. “Your house is...quite amazing.” And nothing like my 800-square foot hovel on the wrong side of the train tracks. You turn back to Jumin, flustered at how much taller he is than you are.
Jumin’s eyebrows shoot up. “Do you like it? It was my father’s building, I bought it from him last year.” Jumin smiles in memory. “My private garden is near this building. I wanted to go see the roses there every weekend, so I moved.”
Han Jumin...wanted to go see roses. Han Jumin likes roses .
If that’s not the most adorable thing you’ve ever heard, than nothing is. This man...there’s so much more under the surface, so it’s a damn good thing you like to explore.
“Whenever I brought one home, Elizabeth the Third seemed very interested in it.” Jumin moves around you, taking his arm into yours and parading you around the spacious living room.
“It might be the smell,” you muse, tapping your chin. “Cats’ senses of smell are so much more powerful than ours, so the scent of roses must seem extraordinary to her.”
Jumin’s calculated footsteps slow, and he gazes down at you with something like wonder. “I never thought of that before. You’re quite intuitive, ___________.”
You know you’re blushing, but you allow yourself to smile, despite the voice in your head telling you that everything about this is wrong . “I’ve grown up around cats my whole life. I can’t help but try to see things through their eyes.”
Jumin nods and smiles; but then he leads you over to a bookcase by the window...and a very large cage. “Oh. Late introductions.” He clears his throat, looking down at the cage with furrowed brows. “This is Elizabeth the Third. I put her in a cage for now.”
The fluffy white Persian stares up at you with curious blue eyes and mewls softly.
You gently retract your arm, squatting down beside the cage. Elizabeth steps to you instantly, chirping. “Why did you put her in a cage, Jumin?” It’s not like him—the doting cat dad, throwing money at failed business ventures just because he thought his cherished pet might benefit.
Jumin sighs. “I...had no choice but to do this. I’ll explain later, I promise.”
At least he’s had the forethought to put her food and water bowl in the cage, as well as her litter box, which is a space-age looking contraption; must be one of those automatic scoopers , you think. Of course he would have nothing but the best technology to help him clean up after her. “Alright, if you say so.” It still kind of rubs you the wrong way, but there’s nothing left to do but trust him. You stand back up, grunting a little after holding the squat for so long.
Jumin holds out his hand; taking it, he leads you from the living room into the dining room and kitchen area. “Oh, come to think of it, ___________. Did you have dinner yet?” He stops next to a table with eight place settings; your heart aches a little, knowing that only one chair gets used. “Please feel at home. I can order anything you want.” He drops your hand and twists his cufflinks again.
Han Jumin fidgets when he’s nervous.
“If it’s okay...” He clears his throat, and you’re mesmerized by the soft way his eyelids flutter closed. “I’d like you to stay here today. Just tell me what you want. I can provide you with anything.” His eyes open again; and he studies your face, searching. “I never expected you to come, but now that you’re here, I’d hate for you to leave.”
Han Jumin might as well have a damn sign around his neck in bright neon lights that reads Help, I’m lonely!
Your heart aches for this man. If he wants you to stay—something you still can’t fully believe, but Han Jumin isn’t one to crack jokes very often, and he sounds so sincere—then you’ll stay.
“I’ll stay, Jumin, if you want me to.” You smile brightly at him. “As long as I have access to a computer and my phone, I can do RFA business.”
Jumin exhales long and low, as if he’d been holding his breath while waiting for your answer. “Okay, yes of course, I have a computer you can use--”
“And Jumin...you keep asking me what I want.” Blood thunders through your veins; “All I really want is to be with you. It doesn’t matter what we eat for dinner. Just order what you usually get, I eat anything.”
“All you want is...me.” Jumin’s face twists with emotion for a long second before he pulls it back into practiced composure.
“And, ah, well. Since you’ve asked me to stay...I guess I’ll need clothes.”
Jumin’s face burns red to the tips of his ears. “O-of course! What boutiques do you normally frequent? We’ll order some clothes immediately.”
“I’m...a little embarrassed, to be honest.” You follow Jumin as he leads you through the kitchen and dining room and down the hall to the right, which opens up into a lavish home office. He gestures to his desk, and moves around you quickly to pull out his plush office chair. The computer is already on, spreadsheets and charts open in multiple windows.
“Sorry, allow me to just...” Jumin leans over you, saving the files and minimizing the windows, clicking an icon on the bottom toolbar to bring up a blank search engine window. “Wait, embarrassed? Why?” Jumin sits on his desk, long legs close enough to brush your body as you type the name of a store.
“Well, um...for you to see what size I wear.”
Jumin blinks as you turn to stare back at him. “Why is that something to be embarrassed about?”
The website downloads, and on instinct, you navigate to the Sale & Clearance tab.
“Because...” You scroll, looking for some cheap basics to get you through the next day or two. “Because I’m not...skinny?”
Jumin stares blankly, and eventually his eyes slowly roam down your body, now seated and scrunched up into even more dips and rolls. His eyes meet yours once more, and; “Why should I have a problem with your body size?”
Oh, this pure pure man. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy if you don’t! It’s just...a lot of people do, and my self-esteem isn’t the highest.” Sighing; “It’s not like a ton of people outside of my family has ever told me that I’m pretty or anything.” You continue to click around the online store, finding everything from pairs of underwear and bras to simple t-shirts, jeans and leggings, socks, and even a large tote bag to put everything into. Jumin’s stare burns as you check the cart, wincing at the price of even athe sale stuff; but you relax as you remember that there’s a literal sugar daddy right next to you.
“Whoever said that you weren’t pretty were liars, ___________,” Jumin whispers.
You swallow thickly as you feel his fingers brush your hair behind your ear, delicate touches igniting your wants even more. “You...you’re not...embarrassed by me?”
“Why would I ever be embarrassed by such a selfless woman like you? __________, look at me.”
Tears pool at the corners of your tired eyes and spill over as you turn to look at Han Jumin.
“We don’t know each other that well yet, but I feel as though you’ve already changed me for the better. You are perfect just as you are.”
You sniff hard, wiping your eyes. “You say that, Jumin, and it sounds nice, but...the clothing companies that C&R owns...out of thirty, only five are size-inclusive.”
Jumin frowns. “I didn’t know. It will be rectified immediately.”
You shake your head. “I didn’t come here to shame you about it. My point is...you don’t have to think about these things. You’re built different—and everyone who moves in your social circles is, too. I’m not...I’m not part of that world, and I don’t think I ever will be. I am comfortable being me—most of the time—but strangers still think it’s okay to give me funny looks. I’m not...I’m not good enough for you. To be anything more...”
“Anything more,” Jumin repeats, face now utterly crestfallen. “___________. I don’t know what the future holds, but I cannot imagine my life without you in it. These people who shame you for your physical being...they know nothing of your heart, ___________. They know nothing of the adorably gullible and selfless woman who would help a broken tangle of six strangers plan a charity gala within seven days. Of the woman who would put her own self at risk because of a silly man she’s known for four days through a chat room.” Jumin takes your hands in his own—though more slender, his hands are still so large compared to yours as he claps them in his own, radiating a warmth that betrays the cool persona he adopts online. “When I first saw you in my doorway, somehow I knew who you were. Your kind eyes, the love that radiates outward from you like a sunbeam...” Jumin clears his throat, bows his head and kisses the tops of your thumbs.
The hot press of his lips sends shockwaves down to your toes and back up again. “J-jumin...”
“The size of your jeans is no consequence to me, ___________. I am smart enough to know that weight is not an indicator of health, and health is not an indicator of worth. You are worthy of my attention simply because you exist, because of who you are . I am not so superficial, and I pray to god you never think of yourself as beneath me.”
“But I’m...I’m broke , Jumin, on top of...”
“You’re broke? Well, so is everyone else. It’s a good thing I’m not broke, then, isn’t it?” Jumin smiles and flicks his eyes back to the computer screen. “Is that all you want? Thirty-eight thousand won, that’s a rather cheap purchase, don’t you think?”
“It’s...all on sale.”
Jumin just stares.
“...Meaning that they’re selling it for less than originally listed.”
“That’s...that’s a thing?”
You cackle, heavy emotional tension dissipating as Jumin’s brain struggles to keep up. “Yes, Jumin. It’s called a sale.”
“I’ve never bought anything on...on sale.”
“You’ve never had to, trust fund kid,” you laugh.
“Ugh, don’t call me that.” Jumin rolls his eyes, and it’s almost the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.
You stick your tongue out. “I think I have a right to, after learning you’ve never bought something on sale before.” Glancing back at the screen-- “Do you really want me to get more?”
“I’m satisfied if you’re satisfied,” Jumin smiles.
“Well, there is a pair of full-price shoes I liked...”
“Get them.” Jumin stands, stretching. “And I’ll order dinner.” Jumin pulls out his phone and begins to tap away; there’s a small thud beside you: his wallet.
Han Jumin, who likes you exactly as you are, is giving you his whole wallet— it’s a sign of trust, you realize, as you pull out an all-black credit card.
Something tells you it’s about to be an interesting night.