Chapter Text
An impatient knock interrupts them before they can get anywhere else.
Both immediately pause to look at the door.
“Uhh.. yes?” She hopes the panic in her voice isn’t evident. Neither dare make another sound.
Mira’s voice is muffled by the door, tired, clearly having been woken up. “I heard yelling. Everything good?”
“Yep! Just got way too excited about these lyrics,” she snatches the previously discarded notebook on the floor, loudly flips through the pages and hopes the sound of rustling papers makes a point- “I’ll keep it down, goodnight Mira!”
It takes three full seconds for the sound of soft slippers on the carpeted floor to fully disappear. The pair don’t move an inch. They wait another three before breathing a shared sigh of relief.
Zoey relaxes. “I think you should leave,” she whispers, getting out of his hold. He moves back a little, giving her space to sit up. She squashes the part in her brain that sighs disappointedly.
“Aww, so soon?” he jokes. His annoyingly charming grin makes her heart somersault more than she’d like to admit.
A beat passes. “Listen, I-” she hesitates. “Would you.. go out with me? She fiddles with her comforter, not meeting his gaze. Thinks about how interesting its soft texture suddenly is while her brain goes rapid-fire thinking up possible spots. Not much to do at the park. Or the boba shop. Malls? Too crowded. So were the movies..
Her eyes linger on the fabric. The turtle patterns give her an idea.
“To the aquarium? Maybe uhh, this weekend..?”
When she dares to look at him again, he almost looks.. taken aback? His usual smirk was gone from his face.
The expression lasts for a split second before he replies with that damned smile again. “Thought you’d never ask.”
“Great, it’s a date!” she pipes before her brain can catch up. Wait-
He replies with a choked “Okay,” before saying a quick goodbye, then teleporting out of the building as if he was never there.
Another pause.
Zoey lets herself fall back on the mattress, eyes on the ceiling. She thinks she can hear her heartbeat in her ears.
She just asked him out. On a date.
Her hands fly to her face, trying to make sense of what the hell just happened. She tries to ignore the damp sting of her palms as they dig into her eyes, to no avail.
“Shit.” She curses in English.
Somehow, her cheeks burn more with embarrassment than shame.
——
Saturday arrives painfully slow.
What on earth am I doing, Zoey thinks, a pair of bobby pins between her lips as she styles her hair into its signature look. Piles of clothes strewed on her bedroom floor, joining the scattered bundle of hair ties she had knocked over earlier trying to reach for the hairbrush. Her brows furrow while she secures the braided hair into a bun. She’ll clean up later.
Being an idol constantly in the public eye, dates were a rare occurrence, if they even happened. One wrong move could end up in a bad article which could lead to a scandal then cause an angry fandom then the untimely end of her career. And a broken Honmoon. Zoey shivers at the thought. That’s why she was getting so worked up, she decides, because the fate of the world (and her career) rests on her shoulders, not because she’s not sure how to talk or smile or act in the context of a date. She catches a glance at herself in the mirror and takes a deep breath.
She’s calm, she knows what she’s doing and she definitely didn’t spend twenty minutes fretting over what to wear before settling on her usual outfit—patterned jacket over a white shirt paired with shorts just above the knee, complete with her yellow bucket hat.
It’s too late to back out now, anyway. Another once-over in the mirror makes her put a face mask on. Just for good measure.
After a quick goodbye to Rumi (Mira decided to sleep in for once), she heads out the door. Luckily, she simply waves back and doesn't question the face mask or her claims of just going out for a bit, though technically not a lie, on their long-awaited weekend break.
What didn’t take long, though, was her walk to the aquarium. Just from the outside, the building already looks impressive. The angled, asymmetrical silhouette was one she’d gotten used to over countless times of dragging the girls with her to look at turtles. The thought calms her nerves a bit. Only this time, Rumi and Mira weren’t the ones joining her.
She easily spots the pink hair from a distance. Abby is already waiting by the entrance, seeming to have gotten the same idea about his getup, a simple hoodie and baggy pants in place of the floral shirt. He is wearing his beanie though, the yellow closely matching hers.
She tries saying hi before she gets to him, but he looks lost in thought. She can’t tell if he’s thinking about the cartoony-looking turtle on one of the entrance signs or just staring at it absentmindedly while his brain floats somewhere else. Clearly distracted, he fails to see her approach him.
He yelps and stumbles back surprised, when she’s a step away, mid-wave. He could’ve sworn she spawned out of nowhere because what the hell?!
“Oops,” she giggles sheepishly, “Sorry.”
In an effort to keep his ego intact, Abby doesn’t mention it further. He raises an eyebrow. “What’s with the mask?”
“Oh, this?” she tugs at the article. “Just precaution. Don’t wanna be spotted by anyone,” she gestures towards the entrance. “Shall we?”