He wasn't what she expected.
Kim Jung-Hwa smiled when he saw her. Smiled. In the face of her cold stare and angel of destruction get up, he smiled.
Rachel examined him over the top of her menu as he seemed to put serious thought into what to order.
There was something distractedly…relaxed about him.
He was dressed as casually as he probably thought he could get away with for the occasion but more than that it was the openness of his face that was throwing Rachel off.
He wasn't smirking; there wasn't an air of barely concealed boredom or disgust. But neither did he give off the feeling that he was trying to get on her good side. Rachel had learned through hard won experience how to read those who thought they could win her favor with false flattery.
She didn't want it.
She didn't need it.
This didn't feel like that.
He seemed completely unaffected by the pressure and expectations that had propelled them both there, the pressure and expectations that were giving her a headache at this very moment.
"Did you pick something?" He broke into her thoughts, flashing that oddly sincere smile yet again, her eyes lingering distrustfully on his up turned lips.
"Salad," Rachel muttered, ripping her eyes away from his mouth. "Any salad."
"No way," He protested, leaning over and gesturing at her menu. "Salad isn't food. This is amazing. Oh, this is better. Try it, you'll love me for this!"
Rachel closed her menu with a snap.
"Is that supposed to pass for a joke?" She scoffed.
He grinned and shrugged. "Yeah, sort of. How did I do?"
"Oh, you're very clever, I'm sure," She answered sarcasm dripping from every word which only caused him to smile wider.
He laughed and managed to take her by surprise yet again.
She was used to boys laughter as a means of making her feel small, a dismissal masquerading as a show of joy, a way to let her know exactly how little they took her seriously.
Kim Tan.
Young-do.
Why she was even bothering to bring the latter in to the comparison was beyond her.
Kim Jung-Hwa on the other hand seemed to genuinely find her amusing, which was annoying in its own way of course. It just wasn't what she had prepared for.
The meal was uneventful but just off putting enough that Rachel never felt like she quite found her footing.
Instead of asking about what she wanted to study in university or her hobbies he asked for her opinion on action movies and what her favorite desert was.
She offered up more and more sarcastic answers to his ridiculous inquiries, which he seemed to continue to find amusing.
Finally Rachel dropped her fork to the table in frustration.
"What exactly is the point of all this? Could you be serious for one minute?"
He shrugged.
"Sure I could," He shrugged. "But ask yourself this, Yoo Rachel, why should I? I'm a second son of a new money family sent out on an arranged date. No one expects much of me anyway. The way I see it I have two options. One, I can spend a lot of time worrying about where this is going or two, I can just enjoy eating a meal with a pretty girl. I choose option two."
"You are completely crazy," Rachel told him shaking her head.
"You just need a new perspective," He smiled, seemingly unaffected by her cool disapproval.
"I've had enough of other people's perspectives," Rachel snapped.
"I like you," He continued unperturbed.
"Excuse me?" Rachel wanted to know what game he was playing. There had to be one.
"I like you, that's my perspective," He took a large bite and let her stare, then swallowed and continued. "So far, of course, don't get a big head or anything."
She laughed.
She couldn't help it.
She schooled her face back into an unreadable mask quickly, but that didn't change the fact that he had made her laugh and the grin spreading across his face was proof that he knew it.
"I knew it, you're practically in love with me already!"
"Crazy bastard," Rachel muttered under her breath, fighting to regain her composure.
He was open and funny and seemingly a genuinely nice guy.
He was completely wrong for her. She hated that she knew that. And yet, there was something in her that craved more time in the company of someone who didn't ooze self-satisfaction and judgment.
They stayed for desert.
She didn't call Young-do that night.