Page 39 of When Worlds Collide (Between Worlds #2)

M y fingers were numb when I let myself into the apartment. I’d forgotten my gloves – again – and opting to walk home from my Korean language class had been fine, until it started snowing.

I blew on them to try and warm them up as I toed off my boots and kicked them into the cupboard before walking into the kitchen to make a cup of hot chocolate.

This close to Christmas, I liked to forgo my caffeine habit for something a little more festive, and last week we’d found this really awesome hot chocolate and cinnamon swirl mix in a store in Myeongdong.

The warming scents worked to combat the chill in my bones as I inhaled, holding the steaming mug so close to my nose that my top lip became damp from the warm air.

I wandered around the apartment – Jihoon wasn’t home, he was still at the gym, or in a Pilates class, or something like that.

The man did like four different fitness classes, and all of that to say nothing of the times he sometimes left the apartment to go running for an hour in the mornings.

Apparently, when he wasn’t rigorously doing dance practices, he preferred to swap that for everything else.

I was in awe, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel a little lazy.

I joined him occasionally when he went to the gym in the basement, but it was mostly just for something to do.

Although, having him spot me for bench presses had had its unexpected bonuses…

I grinned, remembering how turned on I’d gotten as he’d leaned over me, shirtless, damp with sweat and so focused on the bar I’d been lifting, my legs spread either side of the bench as I lay on my back…

We’d had to cut the session short that day.

I laughed to myself softly as I enjoyed my hot drink.

I put a load of washing on, I cleaned the kitchen counters, I put the towels away, and then I ran out of things to do.

Once I’d gotten over the novelty of living with my secret boyfriend in the middle of Seoul…

life was kind of normal. It was also kind of nice.

I didn’t even mind when he left his socks all over the apartment, like a trail of fabric breadcrumbs, letting me know where he’d been – or where he might still be.

So, when I followed a pair into the bedroom, I didn’t immediately notice the enormous box sitting on the bed. I was so focused on the carpeted floor, searching for more socks. There were always more socks.

When I did look up, the sight of the huge black box momentarily stopped me in my tracks.

“You’re not socks,” I muttered to myself, walking over to it. It was wrapped with a glittery, silver bow, and though there was no label I could see, I had a feeling I knew what it was.

Tonight was the night of the ENT masked ball, and all week I’d asked Jihoon about what I should wear, and all week he’d teased me with cryptic hints, until eventually revealing he had ‘a plan’.

I think the ‘plan’ was now sitting on the bed, inside a giant, black box.

All week I’d been nervous about this event; it was one of – if not the most glamorous event on the ENT calendar, and who the hell was I?

Seeing that box turned that anxiety into a sort of fluttering anticipation.

I moved towards it slowly, taking it in piece by piece, noting the way the glittery bow was only tied loosely, clearly intended to be pulled.

I ran my fingers over it, feeling the little embedded flecks of glitter, but noting with appreciation that they didn’t seem to be shedding all over the place.

Feeling a thrill, I took hold of the loose end of the fabric, and gently pulled. It slid through the loops until it fell apart in a heap, leaving the lid of the box free of obstruction. I put a hand on either side and pulled it up, peeking inside.

I tossed the lid aside so I had both of my hands free to reach inside to pull out the dress, my heart catching in my throat at what was surely the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

To call it ‘grey’ would be like calling a rainbow ‘multicolored’.

It was the colour of storm clouds, turbulent and shot through with streaks of lightning in the form of sewn-on crystals that glittered in the light of the fading sun as it came in through the windows.

It swished as I pulled it out, heavier than I expected. It was so long that I’d have to wear high heels with it, but it was a sacrifice I’d be willing to make.

My eyes unexpectedly filled with tears as I held it up to the light. I’d been right; it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And it was for me.

“Do you like it?”

I gasped, spinning around to see Jihoon leaning against the door frame, his arms casually folded in front of him and a lopsided smile on his beautiful mouth.

I hugged the dress to myself.

“Is it really for me?” I had to swallow past the lump in my throat to be heard.

“It wouldn’t look as good on me.”

I laughed and turned back around, discreetly wiping the wetness under my eyes.