Read Online April Loves Black Coffee: First Impressions by T.B. Solangel - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: T.B. Solangel
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you, I need to leave,” he completes my sentence with haste. Slowly, Sangwoo’s lips part into a smile that reveal the whitest set of teeth I have ever seen. “Don’t worry May. I already have a car coming for me. I’ll be out of your life soon.”
Wait! Let me dust off my debate book! I feel the wave of guilt hover me when Sangwoo finishes his sentence. “Can I be honest?” I ask.
Sangwoo stares with amusement. I expect another snappy comment from him, but he surprises me instead. “Please do,” he says softly.
I lick my lips in anticipation as my heart rate picks up. “Have we met before? Aside from last week, have we met before somewhere?” There, I did it. I jumped off the cliff and am now dangling in the air. I wait for his answer expectantly.
As though Choi Sangwoo has been anticipating this question, this mysterious man doesn’t shed a clue that my question rattles him. “Do you feel like we’ve met before?” Sangwoo’s brown eyes ask me. He is in control, not giving anything away freely.
“Yes,” I answer shortly. My conscience stares at me with her jaw on the floor. “But I can’t remember,” I confess softly. Why don’t you tell him you have been dreaming about him for the past week too? my intuition snaps.
The seconds tick by. Our eyes lock in a stare off.
“No, May. I don’t believe we’ve met before.” Sangwoo drops our eye contact. The heavy air dispels between us.
I feel the heaviness of my heart on my feet. I glance down at my toes for a second and mentally paint them a fuchsia color. I expel silent air out of my lungs. At least I asked.
“So, this is why you helped me last night? Because you thought we’ve met before?” Sangwoo questions. He frowns slightly, possibly on the border of frustration that I am still withholding the reason. He really, truly does want to know.
“Not just because I think I know you from somewhere before,” I tell Sangwoo as sincerely as possible. I want him to know that I really do believe we have met before. But I am not going to dwell on something he so easily denies.
Choi Sangwoo’s calm and collected facial expression remains undisturbed.
“It’s because you just looked so sad. I don’t know much about why people choose to drink, other than because they’re really emotional about something or they just want to get drunk. I’ve seen plenty of sad people who get drunk beyond consciousness at The Trax. But you were just miserable. You didn’t have a cell phone or any information in your wallet. There was no one else around. I was going to call the police to help you, but I figured that wouldn’t be a good idea since . . . I just wanted to help you, that’s all.” I feel uncomfortable explaining my good deed.
“So if it wasn’t me last night, would you still have helped a random drunk person?” His follow up question isn’t what I am expecting. I get the feeling that Sangwoo is assessing the type of person I am.
“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. “But I have never done it before. You’re the first one.” We just cleared the air that I am not a slut and that we don’t know each other from somewhere before. What more does he want from me?
“And I am the last one you will help,” Sangwoo commands as if he has the right to. “Don’t help others like that again. Be smart. I could have turned out to be a serial killer or a rapist.”
Hey! “That’s not a very nice way to thank someone for carrying you all the way from The Trax to her apartment. It’s also not appreciative of the person who let you sleep in her room.” I am not about to be lectured by someone who does nothing but break laws for a living. Before I can help myself, I add, “And because of the hundred dollar tip you left me last week. I felt like I owe you a favor.”
A pretentious look crosses his face. My sharp tongue surprises Sangwoo. “The tip wasn’t meant to be a favor.”
The loud voice inside me quiets down at his calm remark. “What
Wait! Let me dust off my debate book! I feel the wave of guilt hover me when Sangwoo finishes his sentence. “Can I be honest?” I ask.
Sangwoo stares with amusement. I expect another snappy comment from him, but he surprises me instead. “Please do,” he says softly.
I lick my lips in anticipation as my heart rate picks up. “Have we met before? Aside from last week, have we met before somewhere?” There, I did it. I jumped off the cliff and am now dangling in the air. I wait for his answer expectantly.
As though Choi Sangwoo has been anticipating this question, this mysterious man doesn’t shed a clue that my question rattles him. “Do you feel like we’ve met before?” Sangwoo’s brown eyes ask me. He is in control, not giving anything away freely.
“Yes,” I answer shortly. My conscience stares at me with her jaw on the floor. “But I can’t remember,” I confess softly. Why don’t you tell him you have been dreaming about him for the past week too? my intuition snaps.
The seconds tick by. Our eyes lock in a stare off.
“No, May. I don’t believe we’ve met before.” Sangwoo drops our eye contact. The heavy air dispels between us.
I feel the heaviness of my heart on my feet. I glance down at my toes for a second and mentally paint them a fuchsia color. I expel silent air out of my lungs. At least I asked.
“So, this is why you helped me last night? Because you thought we’ve met before?” Sangwoo questions. He frowns slightly, possibly on the border of frustration that I am still withholding the reason. He really, truly does want to know.
“Not just because I think I know you from somewhere before,” I tell Sangwoo as sincerely as possible. I want him to know that I really do believe we have met before. But I am not going to dwell on something he so easily denies.
Choi Sangwoo’s calm and collected facial expression remains undisturbed.
“It’s because you just looked so sad. I don’t know much about why people choose to drink, other than because they’re really emotional about something or they just want to get drunk. I’ve seen plenty of sad people who get drunk beyond consciousness at The Trax. But you were just miserable. You didn’t have a cell phone or any information in your wallet. There was no one else around. I was going to call the police to help you, but I figured that wouldn’t be a good idea since . . . I just wanted to help you, that’s all.” I feel uncomfortable explaining my good deed.
“So if it wasn’t me last night, would you still have helped a random drunk person?” His follow up question isn’t what I am expecting. I get the feeling that Sangwoo is assessing the type of person I am.
“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. “But I have never done it before. You’re the first one.” We just cleared the air that I am not a slut and that we don’t know each other from somewhere before. What more does he want from me?
“And I am the last one you will help,” Sangwoo commands as if he has the right to. “Don’t help others like that again. Be smart. I could have turned out to be a serial killer or a rapist.”
Hey! “That’s not a very nice way to thank someone for carrying you all the way from The Trax to her apartment. It’s also not appreciative of the person who let you sleep in her room.” I am not about to be lectured by someone who does nothing but break laws for a living. Before I can help myself, I add, “And because of the hundred dollar tip you left me last week. I felt like I owe you a favor.”
A pretentious look crosses his face. My sharp tongue surprises Sangwoo. “The tip wasn’t meant to be a favor.”
The loud voice inside me quiets down at his calm remark. “What
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