Suga dug right into the last course without thinking. Each of them had two burgers each, along with the massive pile of fries, which were covered in cheese and onions. "Did we have these before?" Mari asked. "They weren't covered with this junk earlier." She grabbed a fry and ate it; it tasted good enough. "I guess we're on our own for dessert."

Suga choked on his burger, and Mari realized what she had said. She checked her phone for the time -- just past six-thirty. An hour and a half left. If she hurried just a bit, she could try again at what she had been doing in the limo...unless Suga didn't want it. He seemed rather content to bite into his burger at the moment.

She wished she could just ask him -- wanted to just ask him -- but Lori's words rang out in her head. Koreans aren't the most forward. You have to start the conversation. But how was she supposed to ask him? Hey, Suga, you had a hard-on in the limo, do you wanna do it? Even Mari knew that wasn't gonna work, and besides, she wasn't that desperate.

In fact...she wasn't desperate at all. The moment in the limo had been nice. But it wasn't needed. What Mari needed was right in front of her. It was just as the fortune cookie had said. Her future wasn't waiting for her back in New York City. It was going to be on a plane to Korea in a matter of hours.

"Suga..." she trailed off. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she wasn't sure how to say them in a way that didn't scare Suga off, or didn't sound like anything she hadn't said before. There were only so many ways to thank him for helping her. But to say she loved him? When he probably didn't feel that strongly back?

[Mari.]

"Hmm?"

[You said my name, you beautiful girl. And then you were thinking again.]

Suga's words struck Mari as odd. Beautiful girl. "I...I guess I was, wasn't I."

[Are you thinking about me leaving?]

"Yeah, I should probably stop doing that, I mean, you're right here in front of me." Her eyes met his. He smiled at her. "See? I can't be sad about this, I'm not allowed to be sad about this."

[Why?] Suga reached across the table and took Mari's hand. [I am sad about this. I do not want to go. I want to return home, yes, but I do not want to leave you. Not yet.]

Mari gave Suga a small smile. "I mean. You don't have much of a choice."

Suga didn't know how else to tell her without using the words. He couldn't use the words. If he used the words, and someone found out, he would be in a lot of trouble. Besides: saying it out loud would be finalizing it, sealing it as truth. Saranghae. I love you. He had been running from those words all day, really ever since he had realized it yesterday courtesy of his brothers.

He had been trying to fool himself, telling himself that it didn't matter, that he was gonna go back to Korea and forget about her in a week. But it was more than the talent Mari had. It was who she was. It was her, bringing him chicken noodle soup when he was sick. It was the patient conversations that she had with him when he wasn't feeling up to everything. It was her willingness to jump into whatever random music creation they had been up to, jamming with J-Hope on his launchpad, letting the sound of her violin soar higher and higher, letting it fly.

He took a deep breath, and then he felt it. One moment, the clouds had been covering his skies, and suddenly, they all cleared away, showing a sunny, shining sky. Suga knew it was his meds finally kicking back in, tipping the balance in his favor. The chemical imbalance wasn't perfect yet, but he no longer felt tired.

He felt like himself again.

Suga lunged across the table, pulling Mari in by her hand. Their lips connected, and then he pulled her in further, both hands now on her cheeks, kissing her with the energy he wished that he'd had all week. He kicked his chair out from behind him, still leaning over half eaten burgers and fries, still clinging to Mari, hoping this feeling wouldn't fade. And Mari kissed him back, food forgotten as Suga's hands tangled in her hair, surprised he was taking the initiative.

She smiled into his kiss. This was the Suga she had seen the first few days he was here. If he wanted something, he went for it.

"Leave this," she whispered, and then pulled Suga away from the food. "I'm not hungry anymore."

She grabbed his hand and pulled them out of the recording booth, pausing to look at Studio A's couch and deciding it was too plastic for a make out session. Studio B it was, then, as she pushed open the door and pulled Suga into the room, letting the door shut on its own. Then, she kissed him again, and was surprised when he pulled her onto the orange couch, into his lap.

[Don't leave,] he whispered, looking up at her. [Please. Don't leave.]

Mari kissed him. "You will be fine without me, you know that?"

[But I don't want to be without you.]

"Suga --" Mari was pulled down for another kiss before she could say anything else, and she realized Suga didn't want to talk about this. He didn't want to have long, drawn out conversations about goodbye. He just wanted to remember this moment. So she kissed him back, pulling his body flush against hers, forgetting the worries she had about words that couldn't be used. There would be time, she told herself. This wasn't a goodbye. It was just the start of something bigger. And she had to go back to New York, and find a job that wasn't being a nail tech, and he had to go back to Korea. But he would never be that far away -- not at all.

She couldn't tell him she loved him. It seemed so silly, but there was a spark, and it was real. That was her secret, one that she could keep quiet forever if she needed to.

Her hands trailed down his neck and over his chest, and he pushed her forward just a bit. Then, he grabbed one sleeve with his other hand and pulled, then whipped the rest of the camo hoodie off to the side. Now simply in a white t-shirt, Suga laid back again, looking up at Mari, who still sat in his lap. He beckoned, and Mari responded, her lips crashing against his own, tasting him along with all of the food they had just eaten, still feeling the sweat on his forehead from their trip to Knott's.

She heard him moan into her kiss, and then he lifted her head from his and trailed kisses down her jaw, pushing her own bomber jacket to the side. Mari whipped it off, tossing it to the side on top of Suga's hoodie, now only in her black t-shirt and jean shorts. Mari smiled back at Suga, and then she kissed him again, finally moving out of his lap and straddling his waist. She melded into him, weightless, breathless, spurred onward by a surge of electricity she knew he could feel as well. He moved his hands to her waist, down to her bare legs, and she hummed in appreciation. This felt so good. If this was what Mari had to remember Suga by, then it was worth it.

Neither of them made an effort to move things further until Mari shifted her weight and realized there was more. She broke the kiss. "Suga?" she whispered.

He looked up at her, eyes meeting hers. This was the same man who regularly stood on stage, performing every night -- this same man, right now, only had his eyes on her. From crowds of millions to an audience of one.

And then he whispered, [I want you.]

--

Asterhythm: In case you weren't aware otherwise, the next chapter contains non-explicit but still mature content.