Page 13 of When Worlds Collide (Between Worlds #2)

He pulled me into the clothing store, and I continued to be surprised as we walked right up to the counter at the far end of the store, where a dark-haired woman sat behind a glass counter, casually thumbing through a newspaper.

As we approached, she looked up with a polite expression.

That is, until she focused on Jihoon. Her expression shifted from indifference to shock, then settled on something akin to delight.

“Baek Jihoon-ah,” the older woman cried out, clasped her hands in excitement and rushed around the counter, startling me.

“Misun-nim,” Jihoon surprised me further by reaching for the older woman and wrapping his free arm around her shoulder. He said something to her I didn’t understand, to which the woman tsked him and waved her hand but she looked pleased.

“Misun-nim,” he said, “this is the girl I told you about.” His switch to English took a moment to coalesce in my brain. I looked between Jihoon and the woman apprehensively, not understanding.

“Yah, this is the girl?” The woman switched to English just as easily whilst unsubtly looking me over. “You brought her to me first?” The woman peered up at Jihoon in a way that made me wonder if she was a relative. When Jihoon nodded, she made an approving humming noise.

“Jihoon-ah, she’s so pretty. Why is she with you?”

Jihoon clutched his chest and recoiled like she’d hit him. “Ahjumma, you’re too cruel.”

“Hmph. If you didn’t strut around like such a plumping peacock, I wouldn’t need to prick your inflated ego.” The woman jabbed a well-manicured nail into his chest, and he hunched over slightly.

“Aigoo, ahjumma,” he whined.

I looked on in bemusement, until the woman turned back to me. Her features softened, and if I had to guess, I would have pegged her at somewhere in her forties. She was very elegantly dressed, her makeup flawless. I felt positively scruffy in comparison.

“You are Kaiya, yes?” The woman reached for my hands and, unthinking, I pulled my hand out of Jihoon’s and placed both of them in her outstretched ones. Hers were warm and soft as they gently wrapped around mine. She smelt like warm tea and neroli; soft and elegant.

“Ah,” Jihoon said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Kaiya, this is Misun. She was our head of wardrobe. She was with us since we were trainees, but she retired last year.” He looked at the older lady – Misun – with a gentle look on his face that warmed me to her immediately.

I turned back to her speculatively. She didn’t look old enough to retire.

Before I could think further on that, Misun released my hands and took a step back. She looked me up and down in a way that on other people might have been judgmental, but from her was more like professional curiosity.

“Joon, what are we doing?” I held still, compelled by Misun’s scrutiny, looking at Jihoon out of the corner of my eye.

He moved to stand beside me and raised my hand to his lips.

He looked up at me through his eyelashes as he bent over my hand in a move that would have movie-goers collectively sighing.

“I looked up your ‘Pretty Woman’, and guess what I discovered?”

“The seedy underbelly of LA?”

Jihoon chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to my hand that sent shivers up my arm.

I was beginning to get the idea though. This rather well-appointed clothes shop, a kindly professional dresser. Pretty Woman indeed.

“Jihoon…” I started, a warning in my tone.

“Ah, ah, ah.” He waggled a finger at me.

If anyone else on God’s green Earth did that to me, they were liable to be barraged with witty, cutting remarks. But I was so soft for this man. So, instead, I sighed and endured it.

“Jihoon-ah,” Misun finally proclaimed, bringing my attention back to the petite, fashionably-dressed lady. “She’s pretty. You have taste, after all.”

I had to quickly cover my mouth as I failed to stifle a surprised laugh.

“Ahjumma, please,” Jihoon groaned.

Misun waved away his complaint, eyes twinkling.

“Okay, okay. You,” she pointed at Jihoon, “go lock the door. You,” she pointed at me. “Come with me.”

Not long later and I’d been thoroughly measured from head to toe and gently corralled into a changing room behind a curtain.

I’d tried on a variety of things and been made to parade up and down to get a feel of how a certain outfit style worked on me.

Nearly everything had been discarded until Misun had declared she now had a feel for my style.

The things that were put through the changing curtain were now more casual, less elegant. More urban, less guppy.

One of the outfits I’d come out to show off – a pair of high-waisted, black trousers and a cropped top – was incomplete, according to Jihoon, and he’d rifled through a nearby rack of jackets, before pulling one out and handing it to me.

While I’d dutifully pulled it on, Misun had put her hands on her hips, looking me over critically.

“Look at him, like a rookie stylist. Yah, you want my job?”

I’d been laughing too much to make much sense of his protests.

“You trust this one to dress you, Kaiya? Do you know what I had to deal with? Baggy leopard print pants! I suffered so much!”

Jihoon groaned for what must have been the hundredth time since we’d been here.

“Misun-nim,” he pretended to be scandalised, “I told you! It was for a jungle event!”

Misun only grumbled and raised her hand like she’d whack him upside the head, but it was only theatrics. The soft look on her face told me all I needed to know.

After about an hour of playing dress-up, Jihoon showed no signs of getting bored.

I suspected this was more to do with the fun he was clearly having with Misun, rather than seeing me strut about in various different outfits.

It was clear to me that he revered her, and it was also clear that she felt a similar way towards him.

To watch them together, you really would think she was his aunt.

I was having more fun watching the way they bantered with each other than I was with the clothes; but to be fair, I was only a few steps above ‘disinterest’ when it came to fashion.

Mostly they kept to English – obviously for my benefit – which I dearly appreciated. Especially as some of the shade Misun threw Jihoon’s way had me wheezing.

I suspected Misun had noticed I was beginning to flag, as she had started dropping hints to Jihoon.

“Aigoo,” Misun suddenly declared as Jihoon had put yet another item of clothing in the ever-growing pile. I didn’t even have a wardrobe outside of the hotel room, I don’t know where he expected me to put it all…

“If you buy anything else, Jihoon-ah, I might as well shut down and retire. Are you trying to put me out of business, you rascal?”

“I’m supporting your business, Misun-nim.” He winked at the older lady, but she just scoffed.

“You want to come back here and restock? Aish. You’re spending money like you don’t have a budget.”

With a barely imperceptible roll of his eyes, Jihoon replied, “I don’t.”

“Ah ha, I see how it is,” Misun declared, wagging her finger at him. “You’re trying to impress your yeo-chin?”

Oh, I knew this one! I’d started watching a lot of K-Dramas recently.

I felt oddly proud of myself for recognising the words and, oddly warm for being called Jihoon’s girlfriend by someone other than our direct group of friends.

That someone outside of our circle knew about us felt…

normal, and that in itself was wonderful.

“Ah, you’re blushing, Jihoon-ah.” Misun reached up to pinch his cheeks, despite his protests.

I smiled to myself and moved away, pretending to look at some jackets.

“You’re happy, I can tell. It suits you.” The words were quiet enough that you would think I wasn’t supposed to hear them, but they were spoken in English.

Jihoon replied in Korean, and the only word I made out was ‘ahjumma’. I could only guess at his response.

I looked back over to where they stood to see Jihoon watching me. The look on his face made my heart swell.

Not long later, I was just sending a text to Becka when I felt Jihoon slide his arms around my waist as he leaned down to rest his chin on my head.

“Misun is kicking us out of her store,” he said, and I didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling.

Finally, I thought, secretly relieved to not have to try on any more clothes. I kept the thought to myself, not wanting to sound ungrateful, or to spoil Jihoon’s fun.

Misun walked over to join us. She batted Jihoon away from me and, just as she had when we’d first met, she reached for my hands.

I slid mine into hers, again marvelling over the softness of her palms, and feeling a twinge of embarrassment that she was no doubt feeling the calluses on mine that had formed from months of carrying heavy boxes around Pisces.

“Baek Jihoon has bought every item of clothing I sell, so you must come back another time.”

From behind me, Jihoon huffed.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Kaiya. I’ve told Jihoon-ah to treat you well, or I shall never forgive him.”

The smile on my face inched up a little higher.

“But,” she continued, “I must also say the same to you.”

Her firm words came as a surprise and her soft hands tightened on mine, ever-so-slightly, imparting her meaning as clearly as her unwavering gaze.

Message received.

“I will do my best, Lee Misun-nim.” I completely understood the need to protect Jihoon, I wasn’t offended in the slightest by her gently delivered threat. If anything, it raised her higher in my estimations, and I think she saw that in my expression, as her next smile shone with genuine warmth.

Until she turned to Jihoon and waved him away with both hands, saying, “Leave now so I can re-open my store. I will send everything to your hotel.”

Jihoon held up both of his hands in surrender and lead us back over to the front of the store before putting his bucket hat on and pulling his face mask out of his pocket.

He said something to her in Korean, I didn’t know what, but it made Misun lunge for him with an open palm. Laughing, Jihoon pulled us out of the store, where we merged into the crowds of people walking through the shopping centre.