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The Korean Affair

My name is Samantha Jones and this is my story. Where you'll read about an affair that everyone hopes to obtain. Mine comes with lots of twists and turns and Father who thinks of himself as a new and reformed Hitler.

MonaRich · Music & Bands
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43 Chs

Sixteen: Namjoon

I looked down at the piece of paper at hand. So this is it? This is where she lives. I walked up to the front door. Stood up straight. Took a deep breath, nervously and knocked. Soon enough the door swung open and her friend smiled up at me. "She's just quickly in the ladies room. Come in and wait," she invited kindly. I walked into a well balanced living area. I wonder whose the brains behind the interior design. I'm curious, but I ain't going to ask out about it either. I stood around waiting for her. "She shouldn't be more than a few minutes. You can sit down if you want to. She'd been up since before sunup. Spring cleaning and preparing herself for your arrival." She didn't give it much time to sink in, when she piped up again. "Sorry, we haven't properly been introduced yet. I'm Abby Sanchez. It's nice to finally meet you," she said with a wide smile. She must be the talkative one amongst them. I took her hand, gave it a firm shake as I introduced myself formally. Right on queue, she walked in. She's absolutely stunning. Her hair is intensely left down. It's swaying against her back in beautiful waves. Her spaghetti strap top and skinnies are hugging her slim features. Cute boots. Matching her top. I looked at her, my voice caught up in my throat. I rubbed the back of my head sheepishly as I cleared my throat: "Should we get going?" She smiled at me. My heart galloped like a wild stallion. She joined my side and folded her hand around mine. It took me by surprise for a moment, but I completed the action by doing the same. We looked at each other. She's so gorgeous. Her cheeks flared up. We walked out of the house. Everybody and everything else had disappeared from existence. It's only her and me. Us against the world.

I opened the passenger door and closed it behind her before making my way over towards the drivers side. We rode in silence. It's a comfortable silence. She's looking at me. I can feel her staring, but I don't mind. I like the feeling that it sends down my spine. Her hand covered mine where it relaxed on the gearshift. I sucked in a breath. Jk told me that I shouldn't jump her bones, but how do I contain myself around her. She makes me feel like a schoolboy. We reached our destination. I parked the car in an open space, pulled the key out of the ignition switch and jumped out. I opened up her door and helped her out of the car. We sat down at a round table outside. A red and white checkered tablecloth and a vase of fresh flowers decorates the table. The coffeehouse is against the beach. It has a picturesque view of the ocean. The lazy breeze whips her hair gently from side to side. A waiter took our orders, as I stared straight at my beautiful companion. He went back to place our order. As he walked away, a smile was plastered upon the waiter's complexion. After a few moments he returned with our coffees. "So tell me more about yourself?" I asked as I took a sip from my warm beverage. Her eyes were still focused on me. "I grew up in South Africa. I were the A+ student of the family," she said. I could tell that now she's trying to avoid any eye contact. "You're a far way away from home. Surely you must miss your family?" I asked her. She took a deep breath. "After my mother passed away, my Dad had lost his way. He remarried a woman whose slightly older than I am. When I got this fantastic job offer, I sprinted for the opportunity. I love my Father, but his hobbies makes me hate him," she answered in the long run. So I were indeed correct, when I thought that there's some bad waters between them. There's no need to inform her about my home country nor the dark times that it's currently facing. Still I did tell her about my family, at least the family that's around me most of the time. We enjoyed our coffees. I paid for it and lead her towards the beach. We walked along the shoreline, hand in hand, like two teenagers in love.