Red petal || KTH

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Three girls were lingering outside a café, dressed to turn heads. One of them, her nails painted bright red, her name was suzy, she lit a cigarette, took a slow drag, and exhaled a thin cloud of smoke. Her gaze flicked toward the street as a sleek car roared up, coming to a halt just a few feet from them.

The driver's door opened, and out stepped a man—casual yet captivating in a white shirt and black pants. His hair was effortlessly styled, parted to the side. His presence was magnetic, and the girls could barely contain their excitement.

One of them, Suzy, smirked, her eyes gleaming as she looked over at her friends.

"Watch this, ladies. Bet you wanna see me wrap him around my finger."

Her friend grinned, nudging her. "You always get the hottest guys. Go get him, Miss Suzy."

With a confident stride, Suzy winked at them and made her way toward the man, taking another drag from her cigarette. He was now leaning casually against the car's hood, scrolling through his phone, completely unaware of the attention he'd just stirred. She straightened her posture, fixing her gaze on him.

As she reached him, she cleared her throat, causing the man to glance up from his phone. The moment their eyes met, her breath hitched. Up close, his face was even more striking—sharp jawline, intense eyes, and lips that practically demanded attention. She swallowed hard, her eyes drifting from his gaze to his lips. Almost unconsciously, she licked her own.

Before she could speak, his deep voice broke the silence.

"Miss, is there something you need?"

His tone was calm but distant. Suzy, undeterred, forced a smirk and switched on the charm. She'd used this tactic countless times before—it always worked. She bit her lower lip suggestively, fingers slowly pulling down the zipper of her crop top just enough to show more of her cleavage. Her gaze locked on him, daring him to react.

The man raised an eyebrow, visibly perplexed by her bold move. His expression didn't change much, but it was clear he was confused, unsure of what she was trying to do. He watched as she took a step closer, her eyes gleaming with confidence, expecting him to be mesmerized.

But instead of admiration, there was a glimmer of something else in his eyes—disinterest, maybe even amusement. His phone hung loosely in his hand, but his attention remained on her actions, not out of attraction, but out of curiosity.

Suzy bit her inner cheek, her mind racing. Just a few more minutes, and you'll make your first move, Mr. Handsome. Your hands will be all over me. She closed her eyes briefly, stepping even closer, feeling the warmth of his presence.

But instead of falling for her charm, the man let out a low, wicked chuckle.

"Seriously? Using these cheap tricks on me?" he muttered.

Before she could react, he grabbed the zipper of her top and yanked it up to her neck in one swift motion. Suzy winced as the metal scratched her skin, stinging from the unexpected pain. Her eyes widened in shock, caught completely off guard by his actions.

"What the hell?" she blurted, her voice shaking slightly.

Without a word, he wrapped his hand around her waist, pulling her closer. His voice dropped, turning colder and more commanding.

"Try your little games on someone else. Not me."

Suzy's frustration simmered as she felt his grip. His hands weren't exploring like she expected—they were simply holding her in place, as if she wasn't even worth the effort. She pressed her lips together, trying to keep her cool.

"Just try me," she dared him, her voice low. "You won't regret it."

He smirked, but it wasn't the response she hoped for.

"I've tried too many," he said, his tone almost bored. "It's always the same—nothing but lust, nothing special."

Suzy licked her lips and moved inside his arms and his expression remained detached. She was about to speak when he suddenly reached out, snatching the cigarette from her fingers with ease. She froze, surprised by the move.

Without breaking eye contact, he brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a slow drag. The smoke curled through the air as he exhaled, his gaze piercing through the haze. His lips curled into a half-smirk.

"You think I'm that easy to play?" he muttered, his voice dripping with dark amusement.

Suzy was momentarily speechless. She had never encountered someone who played *her* game better than she did. Her friends, watching from the sidelines, exchanged glances, unsure of what to make of the interaction.

The man flicked the cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his shoe with a single, deliberate step. He leaned in slightly, his breath ghosting over her ear as he spoke, voice low and challenging.

"Find another toy to play with, sweetheart. I'm not one of your basic conquests."

Before Suzy could respond, the girls behind her, sensing that things were heating up, decided to step in. The one with the straight hair sauntered over, tossing her hair back as she shot Suzy a look.

"Hey, is there a problem here?" she asked, her tone sweet but laced with tension. The third girl followed closely, eyeing the man with curiosity.

Suzy, still trying to regain her composure, smirked again, though it was weaker this time. "No problem," she lied, her voice shaky with frustration. "Just handling things."

The other girls weren't buying it. The one with straight hair put her hands on her hips, stepping closer to the man. "We can all handle things here," she purred, trying to get his attention.

He glanced at her, his expression unreadable, but before she could continue her flirtation, he raised a hand, stopping her in her tracks. His eyes flicked between the two girls, and he let out a low, almost mocking laugh.

"You girls are really something," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "What's the plan now? All three of you? Please, spare me."

Suzy's blood boiled as the other girls giggled, clearly trying to play off the awkward tension. The third girl spoke up, her voice light but slightly defensive. "We were just having a little fun."

The man's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the air seemed to thicken with a dangerous tension. He took a step back, brushing off his shirt casually before speaking again, his voice cold.

"Fun, huh? You don't even know the meaning of the word."

The girls exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond, but Suzy wasn't done yet. Her frustration boiled over, and she grabbed his arm from her waist and he pulled back it,

"You think you're better than us?" she spat, her voice tight with anger.

He looked down at her hand on his arm, his expression darkening. Slowly, he pried her fingers off with a calm but firm grip, stepping even closer to her, his eyes flashing with a dangerous edge.

"You don't get it, do you?" he said, his voice low, almost a growl. "I've seen too many like you. Flashy on the outside, empty on the inside. It's boring. Predictable."

He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "And predictable doesn't interest me."

Suzy stood there, speechless, her pride in tatters as the girls around her gawked. The man pulled back, giving her one final look of disinterest before turning toward the café, his hands slipping casually into his pockets.

As he walked away, one of the other girls called out after him, trying to salvage the moment. "Wait! What's your name?"

He didn't even turn around, just waved dismissively as he walked away.

"Names don't matter when you're this forgettable," he said, leaving them all in stunned silence.

Suzy clenched her fists, her body shaking with humiliation and rage. She cursed under her breath, glaring daggers at his retreating figure.

"You *asshole*," she muttered, seething as her friends whispered among themselves, unsure of how to handle what had just happened.

As he walked away from the scene, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Glancing at the screen, the caller ID flashed Park Hana. He sighed, then answered the call, his voice smooth and casual.

"Babe, where are you?"

On the other end, Hana's voice was sharp, filled with frustration. "I'm on my way. And I swear, if you're late again, this is it. I'm done."

He chuckled to himself, spotting a soda can on the ground. With a smirk, he kicked it aside and responded smoothly, "Relax, babe. I'm already here, right in front of the café."

There was a pause, then Hana's irritated voice came through again. "You better be. I'm not accepting any more excuses, Taehyung. I'm done with them."

His smirk widened, the wheels in his mind already turning. "Alright, alright. Love you, babe. I'm waiting."

He ended the call, still grinning to himself. His thoughts were racing, something darker stirring in the back of his mind. The smirk on his face didn't fade as he muttered under his breath.

"Just be Kim Taehyung's babe... That's all you need to do."

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"One chocolate mousse, please," Sana said, closing the menu with a gentle smile. The waiter bowed politely before walking away.

Her eyes drifted toward the large window beside her, giving her a clear view of the café's garden outside. The soft glow of the evening sun bathed everything in a golden light, making the flowers sway in the breeze. As her gaze traveled further, she paused when it landed on a man standing just outside the café.

He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants, his hair perfectly styled. His sharp, flawless features caught her off guard, and for a moment, her grey eyes lingered on him, sparkling with quiet curiosity. Sana shook her head quickly, snapping herself out of her thoughts.

"Come on, Sana Sulthana," she muttered under her breath with a small laugh. "What are you staring at?"

Just then, a soft tap sounded against the glass. Her head jerked toward the sound, and she was startled to see the same man standing right outside the window, looking directly at her. He raised his eyebrows slightly, gesturing with his fingers toward her seat.

Sana blinked, confused. Was he telling her to move?

She furrowed her brows, tilting her head slightly as if to say, *What?*

The man gestured again, more clearly this time, pointing to her seat and then back at himself, making it obvious that he believed the seat belonged to him. Sana glanced around, amused, before muttering to herself with a smirk, "Seriously? This seat doesn't have your name on it."

He sighed when he saw that she wasn't moving. Clearly impatient, he flagged down a nearby waiter, giving him a sharp look and gesturing for him to deal with the situation. Then, without another word, he stepped to the side, his phone already in hand as he answered an incoming call.

Sana leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a quiet huff of amusement. "Who does he think he is?" she whispered to herself, eyes still on him.

The waiter approached Sana with a slightly nervous expression. "Ma'am, we're really sorry for the inconvenience, but the seat was reserved for him."

Sana sighed, glancing back at the man outside. "You should've told me that beforehand," she replied, trying to keep her voice calm despite her frustration.

The waiter apologized again and quickly walked away, leaving her to scan the café. It was nearly full—no surprise since it was the new hot spot in the area. Her eyes wandered until they landed on a unique table in the corner. It stood out from the others, clearly designed with extra care and detail.

She pressed her lips together, slightly annoyed by the situation, and made her way over to the table. Sitting down, she took a breath, trying to shake off the odd series of events. But then she noticed something strange—the people in the café were all staring at her, whispering, like she had done something completely out of line.

Sana avoided their gazes, forcing herself to focus on her phone, pretending not to notice the attention. She was just about to take a deep breath when the waiter's voice interrupted her again.

"Ma'am, here's your order," he said, placing the chocolate mousse in front of her.

Sana gave him a polite smile. "Thank you," she replied, reaching for her dessert. But something felt off. The waiter was still standing there, shifting uncomfortably.

She raised an eyebrow, confused. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

The waiter hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. "M-ma'am," he stammered, pointing towards a small sign on the wall near her table. "This seat is reserved for handicapped customers..."

Sana froze, her eyes widening in embarrassment. She glanced at the sign, realizing what had happened. Her cheeks flushed as she muttered under her breath, "Ugh... why, Sana? Why are you always embarrassing yourself?"

Biting her lip, she quickly stood up, feeling the weight of all the stares on her. She couldn't help but notice why everyone had been watching her so intently. Without saying another word, she pulled out her wallet, fished out a few bills, and placed them neatly on the table. Then she grabbed her bag on one hand and the chocolate mousse on the other, and practically rushed toward the café door, her steps quick and her head held low.

In her rush to leave the café, Sana didn't notice the man in the white shirt entering through the door. She collided with him, and before she could react, the chocolate mousse slipped from her hand, splattering all over his pristine white shirt.

Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" she gasped, her voice shaking as she stared at the mess she'd made.

The man, clearly annoyed, glanced down at his shirt and muttered, "Shit." He wiped at the chocolate with little success.

Sana immediately fumbled for a napkin from her bag, her hands trembling slightly. "I didn't mean to! It was an accident, really," she stammered, stepping closer to offer him the napkin.

But instead of accepting her apology, he shot her a sharp, condescending look. "This is what girls do, isn't it?" His tone was cold, laced with irritation. "do something stupid to get a guy's attention, and then act all apologetic."

Sana blinked, taken aback by his harsh words. "Excuse me?" she replied, her voice filled with disbelief. "Attention? I'm not trying to get your attention!" She crossed her arms, her initial shock quickly turning into frustration. "I was just in a rush. It's not my fault you were right in my path."

He raised an eyebrow, his annoyance clear. "So, now you're saying it's my fault?"

"No!" she snapped back, shaking her head. "I'm saying it was an accident, and you're overreacting."

He took a step back, examining the chocolate stains on his shirt with a sigh. "You sure seem pretty clumsy for someone who claims not to be seeking attention."

Sana felt her blood boil at his arrogance. She clenched her jaw, trying to keep calm, but couldn't help herself. "Clumsy? Okay, maybe I am a bit clumsy, but trust me, I don't need to spill dessert on some random guy just to get noticed."

He glanced at her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Random guy? You were staring at me earlier, weren't you?"

Her mouth dropped open in shock. "What? I wasn't—"

"Oh, come on," he interrupted, crossing his arms now, a smug expression settling on his face. "You were watching me through the window. Admit it."

Sana shook her head, refusing to back down. "I wasn't staring! I just—" She paused, her mind racing for a way out of this awkward confrontation. "I just happened to glance your way. It doesn't mean I was watching you.... And trust me, you're not that special "

He chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying her discomfort. " Not that special, seriously? "

Frustrated, she shoved the napkin toward him. "Here. Just take this and stop acting like I planned this whole thing."

He took the napkin but didn't wipe the chocolate, instead continuing to watch her, his gaze intense. "Why are you being so clumsy today, then?" His tone was still playful, mocking her. "Nervous around me, maybe?"

Sana rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. If anything, you're the one who should watch where you're going."

He raised an eyebrow, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. "I was just walking in. You were the one running out, remember?"

Sana exhaled deeply, her patience running thin. "Look, I already apologized. It was an accident. If you're expecting me to grovel or beg for forgiveness, you've got the wrong girl."

He stared at her for a moment, then laughed softly. "Fair enough. But you owe me a new shirt."

She narrowed her eyes. "I owe you nothing. I lost my chocolate mousse too, so stop complaining about your shirt," she retorted, glaring at him.

Without missing a beat, the man let out a dark chuckle. "Oh, I'm done complaining."

And before she could even process what was happening, he started unbuttoning his shirt, his smirk growing wider.

Her eyes went wide in shock. "What are you doing?! We're in public!" she exclaimed, looking around to see if anyone was watching.

He took off his shirt, his bare chest now on full display, and with a swift motion, he threw the chocolate-stained shirt toward her. "Here. Stop blabbering and keep your chocolate mousse to yourself," he said coldly, "and let me have some peace."

Sana caught the shirt awkwardly, her face flushed with both embarrassment and frustration. "Seriously? you have no shame?"

He smirked, taking a step closer, lowering his voice to a teasing whisper, "You better run from here, or else... I can do more. I'm clearly shameless in some stuff "

Sana's breath hitched as she felt his words send a chill down her spine. She stood frozen for a second, stunned by his boldness and she muttered " Asthagfirullah!".

He smirked, clearly enjoying her discomfort, then turned and walked away, heading toward his car with a bare chest, completely unfazed by the attention. All eyes in the café were on him now, with the girls especially staring in awe as he made his way out.

Sana stood there, still in shock, watching his broad, bare back as he walked off without a care in the world. Her grip tightened on the shirt in her hands.

"You've got a handsome face, but not a handsome behavior," she muttered under her breath, her grey eyes narrowing as she glared at his retreating figure.

Rolling her eyes dramatically, she shook her head in disbelief. "Seriously, what a terrible man," she added, feeling the weight of his shirt in her hands.

Glancing around, she noticed a nearby trash can. Without hesitation, she took a few steps toward it. "I'm not holding on to this," she said to herself, tossing the shirt into the bin with a little extra force.

As the shirt landed in the trash, she dusted off her hands, as if wiping away the memory of him, and muttered with a smirk, "Let him figure out where his shirt ended up."

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Taehyung lounged in the passenger seat of his car, both legs casually hanging outside. His bare chest was on full display, with only his shirt draped loosely around him. As he prepared to button up, his eyes fell on a girl who couldn't seem to look away from him.

He smirked, recalling their earlier encounter at the café. Her words echoed in his mind:

"I just happened to glance your way. It doesn't mean I was watching you... and trust me, you're not that special."

With a confident flick of his hair, he muttered to himself, "Not special, huh? Let's see how easily girls are attracted to me."

With a playful glint in his eye, he called out to her, "Hey!"

The girl jumped slightly, shock turning into delight at the attention of the hot guy.

"Do you want to button my shirt?" he asked, a teasing smile on his lips.

She blinked, caught off guard by his unexpected question.

"Wait, what?" she stammered, her cheeks flushing.

Taehyung chuckled, leaning forward as if to pull her in.

"Look, I'm serious. I might change my mind any second, so you better come over before I do," he teased, his tone light but his gaze intense.

She hesitated, the thrill of the moment igniting something deep within her. It felt like a dark spell had awakened her adventurous side, and she found herself taking a tentative step forward.

"Seriously?" she said, trying to sound unfazed, but her heart raced.

"Hell, that was quick," Taehyung smirked, his confidence shining through. "I didn't think you'd be so eager."

"Eager? I'm just—" she started, trying to sound defensive but failing as her nerves kicked in.

"Just what? Curious? Excited?" he interrupted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Because I can see the interest written all over your face."

As she stood there, unsure, he continued, "Come on, don't keep me waiting. I promise I won't bite... unless you want me to."

Her resolve wavered, and she found herself drawn to him, captivated by his playful challenge.

"Fine," she finally said, a mix of frustration and thrill in her voice. "But don't think this means anything."

"Whatever you say," Taehyung replied with a smirk, leaning back slightly to give her space as she approached. "Let's just have some fun, shall we?"

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Taehyung stirred awake as his phone vibrated insistently beside him. He blinked away sleep, groggily realizing it was a call from his girlfriend, Hana.

"Ugh, not again," he muttered, rubbing his eyes before swiping to answer.

"Hana!" he exclaimed, struggling to sit up straight in the passenger seat of his car.

"Okay, I'm really done with you!" Hana's voice crackled through the speaker, filled with frustration. "I was waiting for you at the café forever! I called you so many times! You lied when you said you were already outside!"

Taehyung tried to interject, but she cut him off, her tone sharp.

"Seriously, Taehyung! How hard is it to show up on time?"

He quickly buttoned his shirt, realizing he needed to get his act together.

"I—" he began, but she wasn't having it.

"Don't! Just don't! You always have excuses!" she interrupted, her tone a mix of hurt and anger.

Taehyung glanced at his phone and winced. There were fifteen missed calls from her.

"Why didn't I hear you calling?" he muttered, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

Then it hit him. He remembered the moment he had put his phone on silent, just minutes earlier, when he had been caught up with another girl in his car.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "I was already there, and it was that witch who messed up my shirt. We got into a stupid argument because of it, and I missed you when I came to my car to change. Look, Hana, I—"

"You don't get it, do you?" Hana cut him off again, her voice simmering with frustration. "I thought you cared, but it's like you just... disappear!"

"I care! I just—" Taehyung began, but he could hear the disappointment in her tone.

"Just stop. I'm done chasing you," she said, her voice breaking slightly.

He was about to say something but she had already hung up, leaving him alone in the quiet of his car, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air.

"Great, just great," he muttered to himself, slumping back in his seat. "What a mess."

Taehyung bit his lip in frustration, his mind flashing back to the girl from earlier—the one who had caused this whole mess. Her smug face filled his thoughts, making his blood boil.

He clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white as he muttered under his breath, "You're just lucky I had other things to deal with. If I wasn't busy, you'd regret messing with me, you arrogant piece of work."

His jaw tightened as he stared out of the windshield, still seething at the memory. The way she had looked at him, like he wasn't even worth her time, gnawed at his pride.

"Who does she think she is?" he whispered angrily, shaking his head. "Ruining my shirt, then trying to act all high and mighty... if only I had the time to put her in her place."

_______

It was late at night, and the only light in the room came from Sana's desk lamp as she worked on her new mannequin. Her fingers glided over the fabric, the design slowly taking shape. Designing dresses was her passion—something that made her feel alive.

Just as she adjusted a piece of cloth, the door creaked open, and Mrs. Hakkim, her eomma, stepped in.

"Still working, my pretty rose?" her mother asked, a soft smile on her face.

Sana glanced up, wiping her hands on her apron. "You know how much I love doing this, eomma. I could spend hours here."

Mrs. Hakkim walked over, inspecting the half-finished design. "You've truly mastered this, Sana. But I still don't understand why you won't focus on something bigger—like designing aircraft. You have the skills for it."

Sana chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Aircraft? Eomma, I design dresses because I'm in love with it, not because it's practical. This is what makes me happy."

Mrs. Hakkim sighed, gently brushing a strand of hair away from Sana's face. "I know, but you could do this as a side business. You're talented enough to do both. Right now, focus on your future, my rose. Imagine how proud you could make our family. You have so much potential."

Sana looked down at her work, biting her lip thoughtfully. "I know you want what's best for me... but this is my dream. Designing clothes is my passion. It's where my heart is."

Mrs. Hakkim smiled softly, placing a hand on Sana's shoulder. "I understand, sweetheart. But remember, balance is key. Just don't let your dreams hold you back from reaching your full potential. You're destined for greatness."

Sana nodded, though her heart was conflicted. "I'll think about it, eomma."

Mrs. Hakkim gave her one last affectionate look before turning to leave the room. "Good girl. Now, come downstairs and help me with dinner."

Once alone, Sana stood by her mannequin, her fingers lingering on the fabric. She sighed deeply, her mind running through her mother's words. With a soft smile, she reached for the lock on the workshop door and whispered to herself, "Insha'Allah, once I'm all done, I'll be back."

She locked the door, her resolve steady as she headed downstairs to set the dinner table. The house was quiet, but her mind was filled with thoughts of balancing her dreams and her future.

After setting the dinner table, Sana wiped her hands on a towel and called out, "Mr. Salman, dinner's ready!"

From upstairs, her brother's voice rang out, muffled but loud enough to hear. "I'm coming! Just let me finish these papers!"

Sana rolled her eyes, already expecting this response. "Typical," she muttered under her breath. Her brother was always drowning in work, and this wasn't the first time he'd delayed dinner for it.

She sat down at the table with her eomma and appa, knowing it might take a few more calls before Salman actually showed up.

"He's going to make us wait again," she sighed, glancing at her parents.

Her appa chuckled, shaking his head. "That boy works too much. It's dinner time, not a board meeting."

Mrs. Hakkim gave Sana a knowing smile. "He's just focused. Be patient, he'll be down soon."

Sana leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. "If 'soon' means after we've all finished eating," she joked, earning a laugh from her parents.

Then sana felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. She didn't even have to turn around to know it was Salman.

"You finally made it," she teased, giving him a sideways glance.

Salman smirked, stepping past her to join the table. "Done teasing me, or is there something else left?" he asked with a playful glint in his eyes.

Sana rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh please, we're just waiting for you to remember food exists."

Their eomma chuckled, while their appa remained quiet for a moment, before his voice took a serious tone.

"Salman, my beloved son," Mr. Hakkim said, getting everyone's attention. "Don't come this late to the table. You know we wait for you. It's not good to keep everyone waiting after the food is served."

Salman's grin faded slightly, realizing the disappointment in his father's tone. He nodded, guilt creeping into his voice.

"No, appa... I won't repeat this mistake again. I'll try to finish my work before dinner next time," he said, his voice softer now.

Mr. Hakkim smiled warmly, his expression softening. "That's my boy."

With that, the family began their meal, each offering their dua before digging into the food.

Later, in Sana's room...

Sana entered the bathroom to take ablution, preparing herself for Isha salah. When she returned, she spread her prayer mat, her heart steady with faith.

"Allahu Akbar," she whispered, starting her prayer.

Her prayer brought her the calm she sought, and after completing it, she sat for her du'a, her eyes welling with tears. It was natural for her to cry during her du'a; in these moments, she found her peace, her answers. Allah was her source of comfort, the one who calmed her soul.

"Alhamdulillah," she whispered, feeling lighter as she finished her prayers.

She rose slowly, folding her mat before moving through her night routine. After a quick wash, she slid into bed, lying comfortably.

But just as she was about to drift off, the thought of him invaded her mind. Her eyes flew open, and she let out an annoyed breath.

"How dare he throw his shirt at me?" she muttered to herself, frowning at the memory. "It was just a white shirt! His arrogance was written all over his face."

Sana smirked slightly, shaking her head.

"Such a useless man... barking at a woman without considering her worth. What a shame."

With a final, dismissive nod, she closed her eyes, letting sleep take over as she mentally brushed the thought aside.

__________________________________

Thank you so much for reading the first part of my story! Your support means the world to me. If you enjoyed it, please don't forget to vote, comment, and share your thoughts! I love hearing from you, and your feedback inspires me to keep going.

Love you rubies 💎✨

-hana noor-