Through It All || Reader x BTS || Vmin

Taehyung's POV

"Mr. Kim!" The receptionist blushes and bows. "W-welcome to The Flowergarden. Table for one?"

I give her my best smile and say smoothly, "Table for two, please."

The girl seems to melt as the words leave my mouth. She appears to be on the verge of exploding with excitement, but the older man standing with her at the desk elbows her lightly.

"Stay professional." The man mumbles.

"R-right, sorry." The girl clears her throat and grabs two menus. "Would you like to be seated in the private party room?"

"That would be great." I reply.

The two of us weave through dim sum carts, crying children, bussers, and other various types of crowds. I keep my head low and avoid making eye contact.

Finally, we reach the private party room. The receptionist slides the door open and leads me into a quiet, dimly lit room with a few tables, most of which are unoccupied. There is an elderly couple at the corner of a room, and an American businessman sitting at a long table by himself.

Other than that, this room provides comfort from the chaos in the main restaurant. The only downside is the 200,000 W fee for sitting in this "VIP" room.

"Um, enjoy your meal!" The receptionist squeaks, clasping her hands together. She opens her mouth to say something else, then closes it. She looks at me one last time and scurries out of the room, mumbling to herself.

I chuckle to myself, but the amusement quickly fades away when I acknowledge the butterflies in my stomach.

Why am I so nervous? I'm just going to be having a friendly lunch with my best friend. Furthermore, I already have a script written out in my head. He'll ask me what my problem is, I'll talk about Yoongi's decision to go solo, then I'll change the subject. Eventually, I'll be more comfortable talking to him, and pretty soon I'll forget about the little crush I have on him.

Because it's easy to forget, right?

I sure hope so.

---

Minutes seem to turn into hours as I impatiently wait for Jimin's arrival. I begin to relax in my seat and lean back, tapping my fingers lazily on the table.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the receptionist approaching me again, pushing through the crowds in the main restaurant. Her face is tomato red as she bites her bottom lip, trying to hide a smile.

As the receptionist walks closer to my table, someone else emerges from the crowds.

It is none other than Park Jimin, who is dressed so nicely that I have to force myself to look away before a blush can form on my face. He is wearing a clean black blazer. Under that is a loose black dress shirt with tiny white dots; the top two buttons are undone, exposing part of his collarbone. He also wears tight black leather pants and perfectly-shone shoes.

He struts into the private party room as he follows the receptionist, unnecessarily biting his bottom lip in the hottest way possible.

Damn.

The girl reaches my table and Jimin takes a seat across from me.

After the girl leaves, Jimin smiles at me.

"Hey." He greets.

I smile weakly and give him a small wave. He laughs and combs his hair back with his hand.

I let out a fake cough and bury my face in the restaurant menu, staring at the words "roasted duck" as my face heats up. My throat feels dry and I don't know how to start a conversation. Jimin must sense the awkwardness because I'm usually the more talkative one out of the two of us.