Entres Nous

“More.” She placed her cup in front of him, his eyes glancing at it and then at her. “Please.”

He poured her another cocktail mix without hesitation, placing it in her hand as he quietly went back to his own.

“Can I ask you a question?” She murmured, shaking her own head in response. “Wait, no forget it.”

He leaned in, cupping his chin with the palm of his hand. “I don’t mind. Ask.”

“No really, it was nothing.” She forced out a chuckle, rubbing her hands together. “We should start heading back, it’s getting colder.”

He placed a hand on her knee, holding her down before she could stand. “Not until you ask your question.”

She waved his cup at him, watching him pour some more into hers and then into his own. Chan took a sip. “Who is Mona Lisa?”

He gave her a quizzical look, his eyebrows knitting together. “I didn’t see that question coming. Well, what I heard is that it’s a portrait painted by Leonardo da Vinci. Now, I’m not so sure about this fact, but I heard it’s in a museum in Pa-,”

Chan smacked his shoulder lightly, taking another gulp. “No! No, no, no. I meant, who is Mona Lisa.”

“The chick in the painting?” He frowned.

She groaned, tapping her feet against the concrete. “No! Jesus, who is Mona Lisa the chick that you mentioned in the show?”

“Which show?!”

“You know,” She took a final swing, placing her cup in front of him.

“I’m cutting you off until you clear your head and ask your question properly,” G.O squinted. “In fact,” He poured the rest into his own. “No more for the night, young lady.”

Chan groaned. “Okay, mother.” She raked her fingers through her hair, leaning back and listening to the river quietly flow. The light show had been done for around ten minutes but they both hadn’t even felt like moving an inch, opting to stay and drink into the night, telling each other short childhood stories to pass the time. “Who was the Mona Lisa you talked about in the show? When they asked you if you have an ideal type, and you responded that she looks like the ‘Mona Lisa’. Who were you talking about? You don’t have to answer, it’s none of my business, I was just curious.”

“Ah,” He placed his lips at the rim of his cup, but didn’t take a drink. “Don’t you already know the answer?”

“I don’t have that talent.”

He glanced down at her, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

She gave him the same look. “That talent. You know,” She placed her fingers on her temples. “I can’t read minds.”

He smiled. “Oh sorry, I had completely forgotten.”

“It’s okay, I sometimes give that ‘special’ vibe.” She laughed, sticking her index finger into her cup and lifting it upward, licking the remains of the cocktail. “Yura has mentioned it before too.”

G.O took her cup away, placing it down on the ground. “You know the answer already.”

“I told you, I can’t re-,” She paused, blinking a couple of times as she watched him lean in, his right hand slipping onto her thigh. Her eyes began to close, her lips leaning in as he brought his left hand on her cheek.

“Stupid.” He raised his right hand, pinching her cheeks and pecking her nose before pulling away. He scoffed. “You thought I was gonna kiss you huh?” He stood up, stuffing the trash into the plastic bag, tying it up.

She stood up, patting the dust off her butt. “Did not! I was... meditating if I should slap you then or after.” She slapped his forearm. “And it’s after! I hate it when people touch my face.”

He chuckled, swing the bag around on his index finger. “I’ll take note for next time.”

“Whatever,” She muttered, following him behind. Chan couldn’t deny it. Even though she was mighty drunk, a little part of her remained pissed. She had let herself go for just a few seconds and in those seconds he hadn’t dared to do anything even though he had been begging for it since she first arrived. She hated getting rejected. She tugged down her sleeves. She hated getting rejected by him.

“You never answered my question!” She huffed, pulling him back by his sleeve.

“You never answered mine.” He replied back, shaking her off.

“You never asked one, smarty pants.”

“Yeah I did.”

“What?” She asked.

“Which show?” He grinned. “You never said which.”

She sneered. “Oh shut it.”

“Can’t remember, huh?”

“I so can!”

“What’s the show called then?”

They stopped walking, their eyes fervently staring into each other’s.

She glared. “I’m drunk and I have the right as a drunk person to not answer stupid questions.”

“With a stupid answer?” He retorted.

Chan laughed, shoving her elbow into his side. “Shut up.”



“Well,” She hiccuped. “This is my stop.” Her back pressed against her door, her key jingling in her right hand. She squeezed the little Korilakkuma key chain Yura had given to her. Her eyes looked into his, her hand raising as her fingers traced his jawline, feeling the small, rough bumps of a man who needed a shave. She stopped herself from leaning in and pressing her cheek against his, his breath against her neck, her tongue extending to lick his earlobe and whisper dirty things she had never said, only been told before. She smiled, flicking his ear and making him flinch. “Thought I was gonna kiss you goodbye huh?”

He gave her a snort, shaking his head, pinching her nose in return. “Not at all. Even if you tried, I wouldn’t let you.”

“You wouldn’t?” She chuckled, shoving his hand away.

G.O shook his head again, giving her a satisfied smiled. “I wouldn’t.”

“Well then,” She turned around, sticking her key into the lock. Chan shrugged her shoulders, waving him away with her free hand. “Jalja.” (Goodnight.) Before she could slip it away, he took it in his own, pressing his lips against her skin, giving her a grin as he pulled back.

“Goodnight.” He waved back, walking away. She watched him until he turned a corner and went into the elevator, her eyes incessantly blinking, her thoughts fuzzy as she whipped her hand against her jeans, smearing his kiss back and forth, every force in her wanting to make it disappear. She slammed her forehead against the door. She was an idiot. An idiot who wanted more than just a peck to the hand.

She pushed the door open, slipping off her boots before she stepped into the room, letting her purse fall on the kitchen counter. “Yura, I’m home! Sorry I’m so late, G.O and I,” She paused. Her head turned towards Yura’s bedroom door, her eyebrows furring together as she tip-toed towards it. She stopped in front of it, her hand tensing up as it touched the door knob, her ears perking.

“Ah,”

Chan’s eyes grew wide. She didn’t want to think it.

“Ah,”

She didn’t want to admit it.

“Ah,”

But what she was definitely listening to were moans.