Jade
"You're drooling, prince."
I glance at Seo Joon's offended face and burst out laughing.
He's so handsome, yet so naive, that it's natural for me to tease him.
We've been wandering around Milan for two days, him strictly covered by a hat and mask, while I'm able to enjoy a little freedom.
My part of the choreography with Ari is finally solidified, so I've been able to dedicate some time to my new "brother," who's been working for hours, non-stop and without complaint, in preparation for Fashion Week.
I must say that Mr. Gong, the stylist, aka Midas, was quite pleased with his style and perseverance, allowing him to spend little getaways with me in this city yet to be discovered.
I was surprised to see how Korean models are literally besieged by Italian fans, a relatively new trend, but one that's becoming as suffocating as Asian sasaeng.
Driving Seo Joon around has proven to be quite a feat, leaving us exhausted.
And now I'm struggling to contain his desperate desire for the ice cream served by a lively young man on the other side of this window.
"The answer, however, is 'no,'" I tell him, waving a finger under his chin. "The fashion show is in two days, and you don't want them to tell you you've become an oversized trash can, do you?"
This time he's really pissed off, I have to say, and I'm a little sorry.
"I don't gain weight easily, much less for ice cream!" he blurts out, pulling down the brim of his hat.
I know it's true, considering the hours of training and dancing he does every day, and I feel a little guilty.
But not too much.
"That little tricolor cone is equivalent to about 650 calories."
I throw out the sentence mercilessly, making him even sadder.
Only when I hear his disconsolate sigh do I decide to stop.
I pat him on the shoulder and enter the ice cream shop, leaving him confused and lost.
He flattens himself against the wall, as if he were wanted by the FBI, and it makes me laugh even more.
I order two medium cups with different flavors, between fruit and cream, and leave with my trophy clutched tightly in my hands.
At his puzzled look, I respond with a shrug, shamelessly licking a trickle of chocolate that is dripping towards my hand.
"The fruit won't hurt you," I tell him, handing him the other cup, which he takes as if it were something precious.
I'm infinitely touched by the way he curiously looks at the various colors, sniffing and trying to figure out what it is.
I take his arm and we head toward the Duomo, where we'll catch the subway to his hotel.
Only when I think there aren't any curious onlookers do I pull down his mask and invite him to eat.
He looks around fearfully, and then, without using a spoon, shoves almost the entire glass into his mouth.
I burst out laughing, bending over and clutching my stomach.
"So much for the shy and elegant model! How the hell do you eat?"
"I have to finish this quickly, like this..."
But he can't finish the sentence because the classic cold shock strikes his forehead and I see him wrinkle in pain.
"Greedy!" I tease him, while I wrap my scarf around his head. "The pain will last a few moments, so stay warm."
He leans against my shoulder and, holding him, I help him onto the subway car that has arrived in the meantime.
We sit, shoulder to shoulder, and I lean him against me, stroking his head, like a baby.
A girl sitting across from us looks at us curiously, and he buries his forehead completely in the back of my neck.
We look like a couple in love, and the situation makes me smile at first, but then fills me with loneliness.
I wish Min-ho were like him, fearless in front of others and more courageous towards our relationship.
I sigh, and the movement of his eyelashes against my neck tickles me.
"Sorry," he whispers.
I put my arm around his back and shield him with my body.
Several minutes later, we're at our stop, so I let him go and we get off.
"Are you feeling better?" I ask, raising my head towards him.
He nods, but doesn't take off his scarf; in fact, he tightens his grip on it.
He follows me obediently toward the exit, and we quickly reach the lobby.
I accompany him to the elevators, and only then does he remove the protective gear.
"What's wrong?" I ask him, tilting my head.
"Nothing..."
"We promised each other honesty," I remind him.
He nods slowly, then hands me the scarf.
"I had fun, and I haven't had that in a long time. It was weird and very intimate. I don't want to embarrass you."
I smile and pat his forehead.
"I'm the one who practically forced you to hug me, without asking permission... You were uncomfortable, and I'm sorry."
"No."
His answer surprises me, and I watch his dark eyes study me for a few moments.
"To be honest, I felt comfortable with you. As if you were truly family."
I smile, relieved, and hug him.
"I feel comfortable too, and I'm happy to have you here these days."
A cough behind us quickly separates us.
"Was the getaway fun?"
One of the models at the show gives us a knowing look, and Seo Joon laughs.
"I ate ice cream, but it gave me a headache."
"Ice cream! You're crazy, kid. So few days before the show, too!"
She studies him meticulously and then nods.
"You Asians are obnoxious. You gulp down whatever you want, yet you're so skinny."
She pats us on the back and pushes us into the elevator.
"I have to go, I'm not coming up," I tell her, breaking away from her embrace and waving goodbye to my friend. "I'll text you later. Try to rest."
She returns a sweet smile, and the doors close.
Whistling a refrain, I return to my accommodation.