✧･ﾟ: * three *:･ﾟ✧

Madeline likes Tae's voice. It's deep, but his broken English makes him sound like a child. It's cute. She wishes she could see what he looks like. Her luck, it's a middle-aged man with saggy cheeks and pervert eyes.

That description doesn't fit Tae's voice, though.

"Tae, how old are you?"

"Oh, I'm twenty-three years old. And you?" (warned you. appreciate "twenty sree". none of these vids will be over ten seconds, okay bye.)

https://youtu.be/rOXwcurGelk

"I'll be twenty in four days."

"Ah, twenty? Your... birthday?"

"Yes, my birthday."

"Happy birthday!" he yells, making Madeline embarrassed even though she can't see him or the people around her.

"Shh," she says instantly, face hot. "You can't yell like that."

"Oh, sorry, sorry. Happy birthday," he says softer, almost a whisper.

She finds herself holding back a laugh. "Not yet. In four days." She holds up four fingers.

"Four days?"

"Yes. On the eighteenth."

"Oh, okay, okay."

"Tae, what time is it?"

"Time? Oh, uh. It's seven... thirty."

She definitely does not replay how adorable his hesitant "seven-thirty" sounds.

But then realization strikes. "Tae, we've been on the subway for an hour!"

She hears him scratching his head. "Uh, we... missed stop."

She rubs her forehead. "How many times have we stopped?"

"How many...?"

"The subway. Has it stopped?"

"Ah, yeah, yeah. Uh, four... four times."

"Excuse me," another voice chimes in from her right. "What stop do you think you missed?"

"Roissy Airport," Madeline answers.

"Dear, the airport was the first stop."

"Great," she mutters, trying not to let it dampen her mood. After all, she's in Paris. She shouldn't be trying to rush out so soon. Maybe this happened for a reason.

She feels Tae lean across her. She can smell his cologne. Holy heavens, it smells good. She almost has to fight the urge to tuck herself into him just to inhale. Does that make her a weirdo? She told Tae weird was bad earlier, but she hadn't meant it that way. She didn't know how else to describe it.

"Where is... Four, uh, Seasons?"

"You're in luck," the elder woman replies. "It's the next stop. You're very lucky for being able to stay in such a pristine hotel!"

Madeline almost laughs at how long Tae is silent. Then he mutters an uncertain, "Yeah, yeah. Uh, thank you."

He stands upright again, then nudges her with his elbow. "I'm sorry, Maddie."

"It's okay, Tae. You're just as clueless as me."

"Clueless?"

"Confused."

"Ah, yeah."

Madeline's stomach suddenly grumbles. After landing in Paris and staggering through the streets asking where the metro station was, she hadn't even thought about eating. The last time she ate was at her house, and that was nearly two days ago since the flight here took nine hours.

"Oh, you hungry?" Tae asks.

"I'm fine."

The subway comes to a halt, and she actually feels it this time. She had been too caught up teaching Tae the difference between "whether" and "weather" to realize it stopped so many times before. She grips the bar tighter out of instinct with the jolt. She considers if she should get off and go find a cheap motel, but she's not quite sure how much money is in the matchbox. She knows it's at least a couple thousand or she wouldn't have been able to buy the plane ticket.

Tae decides for her.

"Come on. We go eat."

He grabs her hand before she can reject and drags her out of the subway. She's never been in such a position before. She's never let anyone lead her to places like this, or if they tried, she always stopped them. For some reason, she doesn't stop Tae from tugging her along. Maybe it's because he sounds like an excited little kid or maybe because she really enjoyed talking to him on the subway.

Against her better judgement, she's not quite ready to leave his company.

"What do you like?"

"No, Tae, really—"

"You like steak?"

"I love steak, but—"

"Okay, I find steak restaurant."

She doesn't bother arguing. He doesn't appear to be listening, anyways. She's sure if she argued, he'd refute every point and continue dragging her.

Tae has to stop and ask the few people on the streets where a restaurant is. Madeline stays silent because she isn't sure what else to do. Not many of them speak English, and the ones who do are just as broken as Tae. Instead, she listens to him try and work things out while focusing on how soft his hand is in hers. Is it cliche to say their hands fit perfectly together?

https://youtu.be/T43FHfbZ-34

She internally gags. Of course it's cliche.

But that doesn't mean it's not true.

She comes back to reality when Tae stops a fluent English speaker. She steps in to save him. "We're looking for a steak restaurant."

"If you go down this street to the intersection and make a left, there's a really nice steakhouse. It's expensive, though."

She frowns, contemplating her unknown amount of money.

"Expensive?" Tae repeats.

"Yeah," the man replies.

"Oh, that's okay. I have money," Tae says.

She tugs his arm. "Tae, he means a lot of money."

Tae still nods. "Yeah. I have money."

She sighs and looks back towards the voice of the man. "Thank you."

"Sure. Good luck."

"Let's go," Tae says, gently pulling her along once more.

"Are you rich or something?"

"Rich?"

"Yeah. You said you have money. That guy said it's expensive."

Tae waves his free hand. "It's okay. Trust me, yeah?"

She already has been, so why stop now?

She wonders how they look walking down the street. She doesn't really know what her appearance is like anymore, if she's honest. It's been nearly six years, and she's obviously grown up a bit since she was fourteen. She's curious what Tae looks like. All she's gathered is that he's tall, has big hands, and smells really nice.

"Tae, what color are your eyes?"

"My eyes? They are brown. Like yours."

"What about your hair?"

"That's brown too. But I want..." He pauses as he thinks. "Change color."

"You want to dye your hair?"

"Yes, I want to dye my hair."

"What color?"

"I don't know."

She chuckles as a sudden scenario pops into her head where she, a blind woman, attempts to apply dye on his head. She can imagine it getting everywhere, all over her and him. She can bet that she would cover his entire head, though. However, she can't promise she won't dye his entire neck and face in the process.

"Is funny?"

"Huh?"

"You're laughing."

"Oh. Nothing."

"Is it joke?"

"No, it's not a joke."

"Do you like jokes?"

"Are you about to tell me some jokes?"

"No..." He sighs heavily. "I know only Hangul jokes."

"Hangul is Korean, right?"

He stops in his track, making her bump into him. He pats her on the back and says, "Very good!" in an enthusiastic, child-like manner.

It makes her smile.

"You teach me English. I teach you Hangul," Tae says.

"I'm not a good learner," she admits.

"Eh?"

"I don't learn well. A bad student."

"Ah, no, no! Hangul is very easy."

Uncertain, Madeline scrunches her nose. She could barely make it through Spanish one, so she doesn't see how Korean could be any easier to learn.

"Are we at the end of the street, Tae?"

"Almost," he answers.

"At the intersection, we need to turn left."

He goes silent.

"The street. Four ways. Turn left," she says while jabbing her thumb in the proper direction to show him.

"Ah, okay, okay. Don't worry. You trust me."

She rolls her eyes, but smiles despite herself.

She feels it when they make a left, and she tells him he did a good job which he seems very proud of. He keeps telling her thank you as if she gave him a trophy.

She also feels the air conditioner on her face when Tae opens the door to the restaurant. She expects him to let go of her hand. He doesn't. She doesn't pull away either. Something is very wrong with her.

The hostess speaks English and asks, "Just two?"

"Yes, two," Tae answers.

"Right this way."

Madeline is glad there isn't a wait. She's starving. She can hear the clank of utensils on dishes and the loud rumble of chatter, though, so she imagines the place is packed. They must have gotten here at the perfect time to get a table so quickly.

She hears a chair slide out, then Tae is gingerly pushing her towards it by the shoulders. She grabs the back of it and sits, the cushion soft. If anything, comfortable chairs prove the restaurant to be pricey. She feels her face heat up when Tae pushes in her chair.

"Thank you."

"Gentleman," he says.

She nods casually, though, the tips of her ears are still hot. "Yep, you're a gentleman."

Sheesh, it feels like a date. She's never been on a date, much less with someone she just met hardly three hours ago.

She places her palms on the table, finding where her utensils wrapped in a napkin is. She unrolls it gently, placing the utensils on the table in the proper order. She probably shouldn't in a restaurant with high class, but it's a habit of hers. She folds the napkin in her lap when she's done, then feels the heat of a stare on her.

Tae says quietly, "You're very neat."

She shrugs, unsure of what else to say.

"Is it hard?" Tae asks. "Being blind?"

"Sometimes," she admits. "I'm used to it, though. It's not so bad."

A waitress interrupts for their drink orders. The two both get waters, thirsty after their long walk here and talking practically nonstop. When the waitress leaves, Madeline reaches across the table and touches a cool vase. She thought she smelled flowers. She can't depict what kind they are, though.

"What color are these?" she asks.

Tae hums. "Red roses."

Of course they are.

"White roses are prettier."

"I like, uh, sun-sunflower."

"Sunflowers are boring, though."

"Eh?"

"Sad."

"Ah, no. They are bright. Good for... pictures."

"Are you a photographer?" Silence. She almost laughs, already used to it. "Do you take pictures?"

"Yeah. I like taking pictures."

Madeline almost says she does too, but she stops herself. She used to like taking pictures, back when she could see them and could actually look directly in the camera. She doesn't want to take pictures the way her eyes are now. She can only focus so well without it being right in her face. Even then, though, there's no point for her to take pictures if she can't see them.

"Maddie."

"Huh?"

"What do you... want to eat?"

"I can't exactly read the menu."

Tae sighs. "Me neither."

"Is it in French?"

"Yes."

"Are there pictures?"

"Ah, no."

The waitress comes back with their waters, and asks if they're ready to order in broken English. Madeline tells her they aren't sure what's on the menu, and the waitress goes through the specials tonight and their most popular dishes. Eventually, Madeline settles on an eight ounce steak with fries and a caesar salad and Tae...

Well, Tae orders some of everything.

The waitress happily accepts his order, her pen scribbling away. When she's gone, Madeline turns to Tae, jaw agape.

"Did you forget expensive?"

"Maddie. It's okay. Trust me." She hears gentle pats, like he's hitting his chest to emphasize.

"You keep saying to trust you, but I certainly don't have money for this," she says. Then has to rephrase. "I don't have money."

He waves his hand dismissively. "I will pay. It's okay."

She rubs her forehead.

She hopes this man is as rich as his confidence level, or they're going to be in some serious trouble.