Clearly I hadn’t done a very good job concealing how much I didn’t want to move, and now he was worried. Annoyingly, he also seemed to think food solved all my problems. And pandas, though I was fine with that part.
I’d typed out half a response when a hand seized my backpack strap.
I let out an undignified squawk as I was yanked back, catchingthe attention of a couple waiting in line at the pharmacy ten feet from me.Am I really being jumped between a ramen shop and an Emart?I thought.
I whirled around, wincing as my backpack seams let out a tearing sound. But instead of a masked robber or armed descendant or even Hyebin fetching me for another mission, it was only Kim Yejun.
“Oh, it’s just you,” I said, relaxing my shoulders.
“Yes,just me, who you ditched even though we had work to do,” he said, glaring at me.
I thought of the girl I’d seen him with that morning, his hand around her waist, the way he’d looked down at her so kindly. I clenched my teeth and sharpened that feeling into anger, rather than risk crying.
“You do plenty of things outside of work, but I can’t?” I said, crossing my arms.
Yejun raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”
I shook my head. “Where’s Jihoon?” I said, ignoring his question.
“I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re implying,” Yejun said, rolling his eyes. “He had to go to tutoring. Now, can we get back to saving the world, or did you want to play around with Jihoon some more?”
“I’m not playing with him!” I said. “And even if I was, I would rather do that than spend a single second with you!”
“Why are you suddenly mad at me?” Yejun said, throwing his arms up. “I mean, I know you’re not my biggest fan, but you’re acting like I spit in your coffee.”
Because you can’t just take me on what is basically a date and then put your hand on another girl’s waist, I thought.You can’t bring me cheesecake and hold my hand and put your arm around me if it doesn’t mean anything to you, because it means something tome.
“I’m not mad at you,” I said, looking away. “You’re projecting.”
“You’re mad aboutsomething,” he said. Then he pointed at me. “There, that facial expression! You’re angry.”
“Whowouldn’tbe angry around you?” I said. “You’re smug, and annoying, and can’t take a hint! You tried to mess up my infiltration mission. You think the world revolves around you and that I have nothing better to do than wait around for you. You think so highly of yourself, right down to your stupid blond hair!”
Yejun pouted. “You don’t like my blond hair?”
“Why is that the part you’re stuck on?” I said. “And no! I mean, if anything, you’re way too aware of how good it looks. You’re so full of yourself.”
His face brightened. “You think it looks good?”
I let out a frustrated sound and turned away as a sharp pain bloomed across my palms. I looked down at my hands, which had four even cuts across each palm, bleeding slowly.
Yejun appeared over my shoulder. “I think you need to trim your nails,” he said.
“No one asked you!” I said way too loudly. Everyone on the sidewalk turned to look in our direction.
Yejun let out an awkward laugh and grabbed my arm, tugging me down the sidewalk. “Can you keep it down?” he said under his breath. “I don’t want to be the star of a K-drama.”
I don’t care what you want!was what I was about to shout back at him, onlookers be damned. But then he put his arm over my shoulders and tugged me close as a car raced down the narrow road, the side mirror nearly clipping my arm.
“And watch where you’re going,” he said. “I know you like sugar, but try your best not to actually become a pancake.”
Any intelligent response melted away. I could feel Yejun’s heartbeat through his side, which was still pressed against mine. I’d always thought I was too tall for Korea, but I fit so perfectly under his arm, two puzzle pieces slotted neatly together.
“Now,” he said, finally releasing me, “how do you feel about sushi?”
“I thought you wanted to talk about saving the world,” I said stiffly.
“I do, and we can do that over sushi,” he said. “So do you like it or not?”
