Main Characters in the Story:

*Kim So Hyun as "Athena" Myung-hee Park

*Tom Hiddleston as Himself

Chapter XXVII" I Know What Game I'm Playing.

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Where he finds the spots that he finds is beyond me, but I have yet to be disappointed by any of them. We went to a bowling place in Norwalk, where we spent hours and dollars on numerous rounds (and I annihilated his ass over and over, and over again). After burning through two pizzas and a pitcher of Sprite, were exhausted and called it a night. As soon as we left, I declared it one of my favorite dates. I had never laughed so much in my life.

"I slipped. Alright? I would've gotten the strike if the damn floor wasn't so slippery." Tom fights back a smile as he defends his defeat with what I know to be lies. "Unless you made them slippery. You put ice down the back of my shirt. It must've fallen out when I tossed the ball."

I roll my eyes. "That's not how it works, Tom. And if you did slip, I highly doubt it was so bad that you rolled it into the other lane."

He opens his mouth to argue, and not a single sound comes out. The smile has broken through, at last. He knows there's no covering it up. He seems to freeze like that for a moment, thinking of a response, then gives up with a heavy sigh.

"I thought so." I taunt.

"Oh hush. You farted on your second to the last shot."

"Eh?!" My eyes widen. Naturally, embarrassment causes anxiety to quicken my heart rate. "A-Ani-yo. {N-No} I didn't."

"Ah, but you did! 'Jacket zipper' my arse." He smiles so widely, enough for me to knock out his pretty teeth if I wanted to.

But I love him too much to ruin his money-maker, so I hope to punch him in the shoulder instead. "I thought you wouldn't hear it! Leave me alone." I cross my arms over my chest and shrink into myself shyly.

He laughs, slightly reveling. I am sure, in the fact that he's won this argument. He claps his right hand on my bare thigh causing me to flinch in surprise with a blush on my cheeks but still not looking at him as he rubs his thumb and forth on my thigh. "Oh, Myung-hee. It's going to take quite a bit more than flatulence to stop me from loving you."

I twitch my eyebrow in annoyance for the sound of the word makes me cringe. There are many words in the English language that I feel shouldn't exist, and that is definitely one of them. "Can we not say 'flatulence'? It is such a weird word."

"Flatulence? What do you want me to say? Gas? Farts? Toots, perhaps? No, never mind. I'm not calling them 'toots'. I just weirded out myself."

"Yes, you know the feeling now. Gas is fine. Gas sounds more comfortable." I remove my white knitted sleeve from my arm and study my wrist, and I am not liking all the blank space on it. Of course, there's a solution for that. A painful one, but one I would not mind going for. "I am think of getting a tattoo" I tell him, just as out-of-the-blue for me as I am sure it is for him. "On my wrist. Nothing too big."

"Don't damage your skin like that." He argues. I expected he would. "You're beautiful the way you are. You don't need a permanent mark like that."

"Just a little one! It's not like I want to get a sleeve or something." I trace my index finger lightly along a light-blue vein going down to my wrist. "Yes, something small."

He lets out a sigh so quiet, I am surprised I was able to hear it. It's a sigh of surrender, which happened way faster than usual. Is he finally done arguing with me about everything? "Like what?"

"I don't know… Your name."

"Hell no."

"What? Why not?" part of me said it just to get a reaction out of him. But the other part is kind of hurt he would reject the idea so quickly, so surely. "I think your name in Korean on my wrist would look fine, hangul to be the exact. Or our ship name, as soon as I can come up with one." I smiled innocently. I have not thought of making a ship name for us. This should be fun

"Oh, no. No more ship names. No more shipping anything. I drew the line at Hiddlesworth."

I giggle, amused. "You can't even lie. They fit so perfectly." Just then, the name came to me as easily as the breeze.

"Parkeston."

"It sounds like the village's name in England."

"Is that bad?"

He shrugs. "It's not as bad as Hiddlespark."

"You were thinking of one, too?" I swoon.

"I couldn't help it. You presented me with a good challenge."

I leaned over as far as I can and plant a kiss on his cheek. "How sweet. But yeah, that's absolutely terrible. I like Parkeston better."

"Parkeston it is."

I hadn't even noticed where we are until I saw what looked to be a valet up ahead. I look up at the building, instantly recognizing it as the Hilton Hotel. "Why are we here?" I asked curiously as I unbuckled my seat belt.

"This is where I've been staying. I know you hate being at home, so I thought I'd bring you here for a little while." He gets out of the car, but dips his head in before he closes the door. He hands me a pair of black aviator shades.

"Eh? Really?" I shouldn't be protesting. He and I know exactly why I need to wear sunglasses.

"Please wear them. I don't feel like taking that kind of risk today."

I reluctantly take them from him and slide them on. I fix my hair so my frontal fringe bangs stay on top of the shades and my side locks fall into the each on my cheeks. Igeos-eun kkamagwilo hwolssin swiul geos-ibnida. {This would be so much easier with a hoodie.} Naneun geuga naleul deo iljjig gyeong-gohaess-eumyeon johgessda. {I wish he would have warned me earlier.}

Before I can reach for the handle, the door opens up wide for me, a red-headed man in a black uniform waiting patiently.

"Thank you." I say to him, and I get out of the car. I move to Tom's side quickly and walk with him through the glass doors.

Inside is a dream in cream—oh, I like that. I think I will use it in a story. Cream-colored walls with furniture to match, and a white marble floor underneath our feet. The forest green plants in their beautifully-designed brown pots are a beautiful contrast, giving the lobby a bit more variety of color. There are very few people around, most sitting and reading in the little cluster of expensive thick-cushioned furniture directly across from the entrance.

"Uwa. {Wow.}" I say softly, the only response I think fits the situation. "I see where our tax dollars are going."

"I hardly think the Hiltons need tax money to get this done."

He reaches for my hand, and I move it away with a disapproving nod. "Not yet."

He pulls his hand back and shoves both of them into his pockets. "Right. Reflex. I'm sorry."

I follow him to the elevator, resisting the urge to look around me. I would love nothing more than to take a second to admire the interior design, but I don't exactly have that privilege at the moment. I stop at the elevator when he does, staring at my blurred, distorted reflection as he presses the "up" button. "What floor are you on?"

"Five. It's a nice suite. A living room, a bedroom and a kitchen. And a bathroom, obviously."

"Araso, {Alright,} rich boy. I see your point." I smile, shooting him a teasing side-glance.

"Shut up." he says, and not a single person could miss the smile in his voice even if they wanted to."

"Ani-yo. {No.} I am going to have fun with this, Jonathan Pine." I don't know why I am picking on him so much, but if it has anything to with the heat pooling in my stomach and, ehem, lower 'innocent' region, I can suspect what my filterless mouth is playing at.

He chuckles, but the sound off a more mischievous vibe than an amused one.

The elevator opens finally, and we step through at the same time. We both turn to face the lobby, and I thank God, whoever's running the show that there's no one coming to join us.

"Keep it up, and I'll show you exactly how Pine can shut you up." All the playfulness has disappeared from him. I can see him eyeing me in the reflection, licking his lower lip. He knows I am watching him too, because he is now directly into my eyes.

The elevator makes its way upward, but my heart drops down to the basement with an intense rosy blush on my cheeks. I ellibeiteoneun jeongmallo ttatteushaejigo issseubnida. {This elevator is getting really warm.}

As soon as the doors open on his floor, I speed out of the elevator, not bothering to ask what room he is in.

He gives a breathy laugh that sends tingles down my spine.

There is too much on my mind. No, correction: There is only one thing on my mind, and it's extremely overwhelming. I know what game I am playing: I have been considering it for a while. But in all of honesty, I never expected to actually go through with it. But I suppose now is a better time than never. The question is if I want it, and how far I am willing to take it.

God, I wish this decision were easier.