「ᴋɪᴍ ꜱᴇᴏᴋᴊɪɴ- ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ- ʙᴏᴏᴋ 6」
"Please Mayla--," he clenches his grip on your hand, preventing you from fleeing his grasp.
"No!--do you have any idea what the worst feeling is right now? It's falling for someone repeatedly, knowing they won't be the...
The biggest curse in life is not loosing your love, but not being loved by someone you love.
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The lunch was a calming experience, and your mood noticeably lifted in Seokjin's presence. You dearly missed the infectious laughter that came from him. He exuded confidence and contentment in life, as if untouched by any scars during his growth.
Sighing deeply, your eyes darted to the chrome clock on the kitchen wall—it was almost 4 pm.
Meeting his amused gaze, you shared, "Seokjin, I need to get home. My family will wonder why I haven't contacted them since this morning."
Frowning, Seokjin suggested, "Why don't you call them and inform them that you are safe—"
You admitted sheepishly, "Er...I can't...someone bumped into me, and my phone fell into a puddle of water. It's completely dead," sighing dejectedly.
Seokjin smirked, a chuckle escaping his lips, "I guess you hurled all the profanities at that unfortunate person. But no worries, Puppy face, I'll organize one for you—"
Your eyes widened, shaking your head vehemently, "No, please no! I...I will buy myself one. Don't stress yourself over something so trivial," nervously chuckling.
As you left his presence, you were determined not to owe him anything.
Seokjin's eyes sparkled, "You're not going to reject a gift from me, will you, Puppy?" he grinned lopsidedly, looking intensely into your warm eyes.
Inhaling deeply, you explained, "It's not that! I don't want to owe anyone."
Seokjin's eyes widened, "Puppy—"
You interrupted quickly, "Seokjin, would you just please call me Mayla...please."
Seokjin grinned, "Mayla...nope. You are my 'puppy face.' So...puppy, what happened to you after I left Switzerland? I came back for a visit and found out you transferred to another university for your third year, and you even moved—I got your contacts, but somehow your cell number didn't work," he looked a little saddened.
You pursed your lips and looked down at your drink, inhaling deeply, "After...um, my dad's death, my Swiss grandparents urged us to move to Zurich, and I got a last-minute transfer to Le Cuisine cooking school."
"Whoa, that's so cool. You were the top student in Lucerne, but why did you transfer? You could've just completed your degree," he looked flabbergasted and perplexed.
Inhaling deeply, you shared, "I didn't want to transfer, but suddenly I got a letter before we got our results that my final scholarship renewal was denied. We were shocked, my mom tried to reason, but the dean couldn't do anything because they allocated the funds to new, more deserving first years. But I knew your girlfriend was involved because her dad was on the committee, and it needed his final signature. I was warned several times. So I simply decided it wasn't worth it to fight a lost cause, and my grades were so high that Le Cuisine immediately took me in for my third year—"
