Jinki is dead. So darn dead. Thanks to his self-righteous act, you were now seated all alone in a Japanese restaurant, waiting for a blind date. You have absolutely zero inkling of what this person looks like. Best thing yet, you don’t even know his name. Your clumsy best friend thought it’d be a nice surprise to ‘lure’ you of your cage with the temptation of a treat to sushi, and then he proceeded to run off after announcing, “Your real date’s coming soon.”
The only thing that kept you from running out of the restaurant was the promise you’d get a nice reward for going through with this arrangement (ha, more like conspiracy). You were pretty sure that given the act of dishonesty tonight, the likelihood of Jinki keeping to his promise was low. But whatever, a 1-hour meal with a stranger can’t hurt…right?
“Umm, excuse me?”
You look up to see a man looking down at you with frog eyes. His face was impossibly small for someone of such a tall build.
“Are you Jinki’s friend, ______?”
“And you are?” you asked cautiously.
The guy had incredibly proportionate arms to go well with his lengthy body, so when he stuck his arm out to give you a handshake, his hand gave your boobs an unintentional shove. The moment…what’s his name? Oh yes, Minho. The moment Minho realised what had happened, he jolted backwards, like your boobs were made of electricity or somewhat. This action, coupled with his large eyes which were now even larger due to shock, made him look like a frightened Mr. Bean.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” he shivered.
“It’s fine,” you waved, trying to ease the tension, “have a seat.”