"The most beautiful part is, I wasn't even looking when I found you."

I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night
Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife
And if it was an open-shut case
I never would've known from that look on your face
Lost in your current like a priceless wine -  willow by Taylor Swift

SUMMER

Ithaca, Greece.

CHAMPAGNE UNDER A STARRY SKY, cool summer breeze blowing through her hair. A sparkly silver dress hugged her body, lips painted perfectly in crimson, eyes smoked out in black.

If Elysium ever did exist, this was it.

Except, she never expected it to entail lugging a piss-drunk man to the restroom to puke his guts out. However sexy she thought he was, hurling all over a woman's pretty—and expensive—dress would successfully repel all those thoughts out her mind.

Finally reaching the men's restroom, she flung the door open, scaring half a dozen men out of their minds.

A righteous young man intervened, stepping away from the sink, "Miss, this is the men's—"

"Save it," she snapped, glaring at him. He backed away immediately.

"Lady," her unknown companion-cum-arch enemy croaked, "you might wanna leave."

"Oh, hell nah. You're paying for this dress. If that means I'm gonna have to watch you spew," she threw a cubicle open, "so be it."

She wasn't entirely sober either. Despite her tolerance, a dozen shots of vodka after far too many flutes of Rosé would do it for anyone.

He doubled over in front of the open toilet, retching. The smell nearly killed her, but that was probably her favourite dress covered in puke. Heading over to the sink, she turned the faucet on.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the desperation of getting out of vomit-soaked clothes, but she pulled the dress off over her head in the middle of the men's lavatory, dunked it in the sink and grabbed a handful of tissues. Every pair of eyes trained on her.

Her response to a whistle echoing through the walls was to dunk half a bottle of liquid hand soap on her dress and begin scrubbing away. Dancing to a tune in her inebriated brain, she shook her head from side to side, moving her body to a song no one else could hear. Yep, the alcohol was definitely beginning to kick in.

"Lady, what the hell—" the stranger from the bar stumbled out of the cubicle, leaning against the door frame. He'd spent the last fifteen minutes with his face in the toilet. If that wasn't enough to sober him up, nothing would be.

"Hey! You're the asshat who puked on me!" She squealed, turning around, half-naked and pointed at the man, "Come, dance with me."

At a loss for words, he managed, more like a question than a statement, "You're drunk."

"And you're a bitch."

"Bitch?"

"Bitch," she asserted, crossing her arms.

"Bitch," he accepted his title.

"Come dance with me," she repeated, striding over to him and taking his hands. He obliged, still wary of the men staring at this near-naked woman. Thankfully, the crowd had dispersed, leaving a couple of newcomers to their own devices. They didn't even bat an eye, as though a lady dancing in a puke-scented men's bathroom was just another Wednesday.

Twirling her around, he met her eyes. Those same brown eyes that observed him taking that killing shot of vodka. Those feline eyes lined with thick, beautiful lashes. She smiled at him, a bright, carefree grin. It was something he realised she hadn't done earlier that night.

"You dance well, asshat," she complimented.

"It's Adonis," he replied, "Not asshat."

"It's definitely asshat," she argued. He chuckled, smiling right back at her.

One hand on her waist, the other intertwined in her fingers, they swayed the night away to a tune neither could hear.

MOONLIGHT FLOODED IN through the open windows, the night breeze blowing the curtains around. She shuffled under the fresh linen, enjoying the cool whispers of it on her skin. She must've slept in her underwear, for no PJ's felt this comfortable.

Her eyes fluttered open, the culprit a warm sensation spreading across her stomach. Allowing herself to adjust to the pitch darkness, her eyes made out a picture of a leg resting on her.

A leg? No way in hell was she that flexible. Plus, she'd shaved the day before. Her leg couldn't be half as hairy.

Realisation washed over as she followed that leg back to its owner-who definitely wasn't her. It joined a man. A man with silver hair and puffy lips. The very puffy lips that were drooling all over her pillow.

"Who the fuck are you!?" She bellowed, jumping up off the bed, holding sheets to her chest.

"Jeongguk, Jin, fuck off," He droned on, turning in his sleep, "Let me sleep. Bastards..."

"Get up, get up, get up!" She yelled, kicking his leg off her body. He did exactly that. As though someone had shocked him with 200 on a defibrillator.

"Lady?" He yelled back, recognising her as the woman he'd embarassed himself in front of earlier that night.

"Why the fuck are you in my room!?" She confronted, pressing a palm to her head, eyes still wide open in shock.

He propped himself up, shuffling over to the headboard. Leaning against it with a frown, he looked around the room, "This is my room," he finally stated after a minutes' silence.

A blush crept up her neck. He was right. Even in the dim moonlight she could make out that this room, although identical to her's, was times neater.

"Okay," she muttered, trying to soothe her worked up nerves, "Did we...you know?"

Scratching his head, further messing with his silver hair, he thought hard, "No. I would've remembered something like that. I think we—we danced...?"

"Oh, I don't dance," she declared.

"Oh, you did. I don't think there was any music either."

Staring at the ceiling for a minute or two, she tried her best to hide her embarassment. She hadn't danced since she was a child and Shahrukh Khan's movies played on the community television.

"Well," she said, getting up, "I'm gonna go to my room now."

She ruffled around for her dress, finding it damp and stuffed into a corner. Flinging it over her shoulder, she turned to the door.

"You're gonna go out like that?" He gestured to her, wearing nothing but a polka-dotted bra and unmatching panties, "Hold on."

Walking to a table in the room, he opened his suitcase and took out a linen shirt with a pair of trousers. He handed the set to her, heading into the bathroom so she could change.

"Thanks!" She called out, as soon as she was done. Before he could come back out, she was gone.

SHE CURLED HER TOES tighter, grasping onto the sand she'd missed so feverently. Another wave washed over her ankles, softly kissing the beach in its path. Raising her arms up, she allowed the salty breeze to blow her swimsuit cover-up around in the wind.

She remembered her childhood, her deep love for the beaches back home. Although they rarely got to visit them, she cherished the few times they had. Her parents rarely got a day off. Going with them was near impossible, so she'd begun going alone. She would carry nothing but her paints and brushes, and paint the day away. The memories of those times always brought a smile to her face.

She hoped her parents could feel the same breeze she could, back home.

With her eyes closed, she felt wave after wave gently kiss her ankles in their path. Engrossed in her own thoughts, she hadn't noticed the man who was now standing right next to her.

He had his hands in his pockets, observing her keenly.

A white swimsuit offset her summer tan, glowing in the warm sun. Her head tipped back as the frequent gusts of cool wind blew through her loose curls. He noticed her button nose, aligning to meet full brows. Her plump lips were slightly parted, revealing pearly whites.

"So," he mumbled, interrupting her serenity, "I never caught your name last night."

Basking in the warm sun, she took a deep breath, the salty air filling her mouth. She pondered for a while, wondering whether she should entertain this man. After all, he regurgitated on her. But she did call him an ass-something.

"It's Aphrodite," she decided.

"Aphrodite and Adonis? That can't be a coincidence," he smirked, remembering the legendary romance guilty of tearing Olympus apart.

Frowning, she asked, "Who's Adonis?"

Visibly offended down to the bone, he retaliated, "You're kidding me, right? I told you my name last night!"

"I was drunk," she shrugged, eyes stern, "It's a nice name, if that helps."

"It helps," he admitted, taken by her compliment.

Beaming from ear to ear, she scoffed. He was insufferable, but she couldn't help smiling. She walked back to her deck chair and laid down in the shade of the umbrella. Kicking back in the chair alongside hers, Adonis gazed at her.

"You know, I still owe you for your dress last night," he said, eyes hopeful.

"You mean the one you—"

"Puked all over? Yeah," he shuddered at the thought, "Please, just name a price."

"It's not your fault you can't hold your alcohol, Adonis. You're not paying anything," she declared, smirking.

"You danced naked in the men's restroom."

"What!?"

"I guess you don't remember, " shrugged the silver-haired man, "Seriously, though. What can I do? I'm paying you back, that's not up for debate."

"I was drunk. Dancing-naked-in-the-bathroom drunk. I don't want you to pay me back," she clarified, last night's events making bile rise up to her throat.

"I owe you dinner then. Wherever you want," he offered, slender eyes genuine.

She thought it over. A free dinner, anywhere she wanted. In her few days at Ithaca, she'd already scoped out a favorite restaurant. It was too expensive to eat at daily, but perfect for a free meal.

"There's a restaurant right by the beach. Demeter's, I think. I'll see you there by eight?"

"I'll be there," his plump lips pulled up into a smile. She noticed his eyes almost disappear, leaving two slits of ink. There was no denying that he was handsome. With today's combination of an oversized white button down and beige shorts, he looked carefree, like he'd never seen a single problem in his life.

His eyes, however, spoke of a different tale. Dark circles offset his cheery demeanor. There was no way he was without troubles. After all, who was?

Painting on the perfect nude lip—the only lipstick that wasn't expired—she looked at herself in the mirror. She'd worn her favourite white dress—one of many, for it was the easiest colour for her to wear—with a pair of black heels. She put on some diamond jewellery that complimented every outfit and headed out the door.

She couldn't lie, she was nervous. This wasn't a date, she was sure of that. This was simply a friend—because that's what they are now—repaying her for puking on her dress by taking her to a super expensive restaurant. And she'd dressed up for it. Definitely not a date.

She'd never been on a date before. Just client meetings and meals with her secretary. Work trumped love, and no one she ever met would understand that. She'd given up long ago, giving in to a nunnery she'd never seen.

She hoped tonight wasn't a date.

As she walked down the sidewalk in atrociously high heels, she rummaged through her purse. Picking up her phone, she dialled her assistant's number. It was hard to relax when she didn't know what was going on at the home base.

The dial tune ended as he picked up, "Miss Kang, I thought I told you not to call me anymore."

"Oh, shut up. How's everything going? Any new commissions?" She snapped.

"Everything's great, as always. There's a couple of jobs on hold, but I'm not giving you details. All I can say is that it's huge. I mean, enormous huge," he said.

"Good, send me the file."

"No way. You're going to enjoy your vacation, Miss Kang. I dunno, get laid or something."

She could picture him shrugging, pursing his skinny little lips. She was mad, "Min fucking Yoongi, you did not—"

"Gotta go, bye!" He cut her off, hanging up the call. She let out a string of curses so obscene, tourists all over glared at her.

Slamming the stupid device in her purse, she headed into Demeter's. There would be no getting laid tonight.

She walked into the brightly lit establishment, reminiscing her first day at Greece. She'd come here first, the name reminding her of stories her mother would tell her.

The restaurant smelled like luxury in a bottle. Almost immediately, a cool breeze ruffled her hair, warm enough not to sting her blushed cheeks. She walked up to the dias, smiling at the neatly dressed woman.

"Hi, I have a reservation under Adonis," she said.

The woman nodded, promptly searching her list, "I'm sorry, ma'am. There's no Adonis on the list," she said with a frown.

"Anything under Aphrodite?" She asked. It was a long shot, but possible surely.

To her relief, the woman smiled, "Table for two, ma'am," she gestured for Aphrodite to follow her, "Right this way."

Entering the open part of the restaurant, she couldn't help but light up. The stars looked beautiful tonight. Cream pillars held up a large trellis supporting pink, white and red Bougainville. Miraculously, the plants formed a loose canopy over a few chairs. She hoped they wouldn't sit there, she didn't need flowers in her free meal.

Catching sight of her not-date, she beamed. He'd surely cleaned up. With those silky locks styled up and a tiny silver earring dangling from his ear, he shot her a killer smile. The sudden change from loose half-buttoned button downs to an elegant tux certainly made him look regal. Keeping her jaw from hitting the floor mysteriously proved to be quite a task. A woman isn't usually attracted to a man who vomited on her less than twenty-four hours ago, but those candy lips were making her reconsider.

"Hey," he smiled, those chubby cheeks forming adorable little apples.

"Hey," she replied, quietly thanking the woman who lead her here. He got up, walked over to her chair and pulled it out for her to sit.

Rolling her eyes in the most exaggerated manner possible, she sat down, allowing him to push the chair in, "Is this your way of making up for puking on me?"

"Oh no, no way," he joked, sitting back down, "This is just me being nice."

"Is that so?" She scoffed, "Bring on the wine. If you're going to be nice all night, I'll need some in my system."

He laughed, his upper lip nearly disappearing as he did so. He put a hand on his face, curling it into a loose fist.

Through those thickly lashed midnight eyes, he gazed at her, admiring her. She was stunning, undeniably so. But her allure wasn't simply in her beauty. It lay in her compassion. Her kind manner of speaking to him, the way no one ever had before.

She didn't know who he was. Prince Park Jimin didn't exist anymore, atleast not then. In that moment, it was just Aphrodite and Adonis, laughing, smiling, chatting.

Neither of them had simply spoken, had a normal conversation outside work with anyone. It had been years for Aphrodite, but a lifetime for Adonis.

It was so exhilarating, so elating. Just talking. About the sun, the sky, the stars. About flowers and food and cheese. It was a whole new world, small talk. Not a single mention of work, politics and money.

Into the night they dove, moulting their skin, their masks. Souls laid bare, secrets spilt in ink. Like the final strokes that bring a portrait to life, they simply clicked.

"You ended up walking me to my room," she pointed out the obvious, looking at her room door.

"Didn't realise until now," he simpered, brushing it off. They had been way too engrossed in talking to even watch where they were going.

A moment of silence ensued, the void begging to be filled. She finally spoke, chest tight and throat heavy, "You want to come in for some coffee?"

Glad she broke the ice, he smiled, "Sure."

Flashing her keycard on the screen, the red light turned green with a click. Pushing the door open, she beckoned him in, "It's a bit of a mess. I'll clear the couch for us to sit."

Nodding, he came in. The room truly was a mess. Moving two bras and a bathrobe, he found a spot on the couch where he could sit. Of all the clothes strewn about, he noticed all were white. Pure snow white. Some pieces embroidered, some simply plain.

Not one pop of colour among the hurricane of clothes. He didn't question her about it.

"Should I order room service or should we make instant coffee?" She asked, holding up the hotel telephone. Completely unfazed by his flustered disposition, she raised her brows.

"Instant coffee sounds great," he replied, unable to tear his eyes away. She looked so at home, so comfortable in a foreign room. It made him wonder what she did for a living, that made hotels seem like home for her.

Unfortunately, the sight of her ivory dress pulled tight against her figure tore his mind. She looked formidable. It's hem fell about mid-thigh, revealing her tan legs. He could tell that the golden glow was natural, that she was simply born that way. She had her back to him, busy mixing coffee packets and boiling water.

He simply couldn't look away. He knew he should've gotten up to help her, but he felt frozen in place. She turned around, carrying two steaming cups, "I don't drink much coffee, so it might not be great."

She set them down, brushing her hands together. Pushing a few tidbits off the couch, she attempted making room for herself to sit.

With a deep v-neck and cuts to her waist, she looked ravishing. Beautifully so. Thin straps held the dress up on her shoulders, prominent clavicles giving her a graceful look. He couldn't help himself, not anymore.

"Aphrodite," he whispered, hoping she wouldn't hear.

To his dismay, she asked "Yeah?"

"You look stunning tonight," he confessed, voice dipping a few octaves.

"Thanks," she replied, apprehensive, her hands moving no longer, "You look amazing too."

She was still leaning over the couch, frozen in place as she stared at him.

His eyes travelled to her lips, those alluring, plump lips. It hit him like a gust of wind, the carnal impulse to kiss those lips, bite them, nibble on them. He had to have her. Then and there.

"I'm sorry, Aphrodite," he mumbled, smashing his lips against hers. She obliged almost immediately, her pining for his touch finally satisfied. She let out a moan, immediately swallowed by him, fuelling his feverish desire.

She pulled him in, now straddling him, leaning back on the couch. Little sparkles of rapture made their way down her spine, erupting in the wake of his adamant touch. Their kiss was a medley of teeth and tongues. Desperate, voracious, craving.

As abruptly as they collided, she pushed herself off him, standing up. She backed away, leaving the man confused and lipstick-stained.

"Are you drunk?" She asked, winded from their sudden workout.

"A little," he admitted, catching his breath too. His eyes starkly contrasted his honest tongue. They hid treachery, deep lust for her, "You?"

"Kind of. Sober enough to know I want this," the words came out faster than she could think of them.

"So, no one's taking advantage of anyone," he asked, seeking validation. He got up slowly, walking towards her.

"Correct," she confirmed. He was close enough to be eye to eye with her.

"Let's do this properly, then," he mumbled, voice raspy. She knew exactly what was coming. Backing away into the wall, he followed her, erasing all sense of personal space she thought she could upkeep. She allowed him in, closer and closer. His cologne encompassed all her senses, that warm scent.

He slammed her against the wall. Hard.
As his plump lips traced the soft skin of her neck, she ground herself impossibly closer to him. He nibbled her tingling earlobe, hands shifting to her arched waist.

Her back was to the wall, yet all she could feel was him. Firm muscles under fair skin. She couldn't understand how a man she just met knew exactly how to touch her. She was reeling, drunk off of his inebriating scent.

She moaned as he pressed hungry kisses to her throat, surprised at the tenor of her own voice. She sounded desperate, craving for his touch when she barely knew him.

Adroitly sliding his palm from her knee to the inside of her warm thigh, he enjoyed the feeling of having her so ready for him when he hadn't even started. That was the power he had over her, a light graze of her skin had her aching for more.

She wanted him, and he knew it.

"You're so sexy, Aphrodite," he breathed, tone raspy.

"Kiss me," she begged, sick of the teasing, "Please."

Pulling away with a lopsided grin, he leaned into her ear, lips brushing her earlobe, "I'm going to kiss you a lot tonight, love."

Authors note.

Happy Birthday to The Royal Patron!

A big, fat thank you from the characters and me to every single one of you. Thanks for reading, voting, commenting, spreading love, sharing this book—dammit one of you even put this books name in a recommendations book. Thanks to all those of you who wished me too. I love you guys.

As a second gift, comment any emoji, sentence, whatever down here and I'll follow your account. (this is for you, silent readers. I believe I already follow some of yall super vocal ones -70sbitch-)

I'm sorry I'm a few days late on this one, I had a big test paper on Wednesday.

I have a teeny tiny request from you guys—cause I'm about to get emotional as hell here—to simply let me know what your feelings are about this book. In a comment, a message, whatever. Barely a few words, a paragraph, an emoji, I don't mind.

For me, this book has given me a much needed outlet. Like Jimin needs to paint, Jin found makeup, this book allows me to vent.

This situation-based ironic humour blended with serious, intense kinda writing style that this book demands from me, has made me so, so happy. I've never liked reading what I've written, but this new skill—still in its rudimentary stages of development—is such a confidence boost. I read the prologue, the first chapter when I'm low.

The sheer amount of love that y'all bombard on this book has crushed me. I love, love, love you guys so much. Those little messages some of you leave on my message board truly make my day. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

Anyways, let's get on to discussing the chapter.

This bonus chapter was requested by many of you, so I decided to make it about the night following the night they met.

I'd left a flashback scene incomplete in the first chapter of this book and that happened to piss many of yall off, so I added it in here to complete it. Some of yall horny af, I won't lie.

I won't be asking for any theories in this chapter cause y'all already know what's going to happen next.

Once again, thank you, have an awesome day and stay safe. Take care of yourselves, everyone. There's always someone in the world who loves you.