Chapter 108 – The Taste of Almost
POV: Jaeheon Kang
She didn't open the door for him.
It was already open.
A quiet invitation, wordless but unmistakable—
like everything else about her.
He stepped inside, the city lights bleeding silver through the tall windows. She was at the counter, pouring herself a drink. Barefoot. Sleeves pushed back. Her hair was down.
She glanced at him over her shoulder.
"You're here earlier than usual."
"I missed you earlier than usual."
The glass paused mid-air.
She didn't reply—but he saw the corner of her lips lift. Just barely.
He sat on the barstool. She poured him a drink without asking.
The silence between them was no longer stiff or cold.
It was warm.
Earned.
He took the glass. Sipped. "What if I asked again?"
She raised a brow. "What?"
"To kiss you."
She didn't look at him right away. Instead, she leaned her elbows on the counter. Cool. Effortless.
"You're not that good at it."
He almost choked on the drink.
"Excuse me?" he said, straightening.
"You heard me."
"I've been improving," he said defensively.
"Hm. Barely."
His eyes narrowed, playful. "I've only ever kissed you."
That made her pause.
And turn.
There was something unreadable in her expression—until she spoke.
"Aren't you a celebrity?"
"I'm not that kind of celebrity."
She smirked. "You're in a boy group. Statistically speaking, you should've kissed someone behind a stage curtain at least once."
He leaned forward on the counter, voice soft.
"You're the only person I've ever wanted to kiss."
She didn't flinch at the words. But her eyes did soften—almost imperceptibly.
She reached for his wrist and dragged his hand forward, tracing a faint scar he had from a stage accident.
"You always say things like that when I'm not ready to hear them."
"Then I'll keep saying them until you are."
There was a beat of silence.
Then she leaned in slightly, lips close to his ear.
"You're lucky I'm in a good mood tonight."
"Does that mean I get another chance?"
"Mm. One. And don't embarrass yourself."
He stood slowly, closing the space between them until she was leaning lightly back against the counter.
This time, he kissed her with quiet certainty. Not desperate. Not eager.
Just—gentle. Unrushed.
And when he pulled away, she didn't speak right away.
Then—
"…You're still not good."
"Liar."
She turned and walked past him, smirking. "Maybe."
He followed, his smile quiet but undeniable.