Work Text:
Hong Cha Young was an enigma. One that Vincenzo Cassano wasn't sure he wanted to understand but was drawn to anyways. As a man of few words, he was surprised at how much attention he found himself paying to the endless chatter that left her lips. Her lips, his mind started. When had he started noticing that he wondered. Kind of hard not to when they’re shaped so prettily and painted so devilishly he reasoned. Not to forget how utterly unpredictable it was what would escape them.
Which is why he’d found himself not too surprised when she’d suggested a finger flick bet to settle their small debate. For appearances sake though he’d grumbled, “Are we grade school kids?” And despite his “I never beat women, no matter what,” grandiose, he’d secretly looked forward to the opportunity to have her theatrics tamed a bit. He found himself looking forward to it even more after the mini disaster that was their first meeting with the families of the victims. When she said tricks, he most certainly wasn't expecting the waterworks. But then again, what did he know about what to expect when it came to Hong Cha Young.
So he found himself pulling a page out of her book as he prepared to flick her forehead. Coat off, watch unclasped, sleeves rolled up.
He watched as she slowly walked up in front of him pouting like a petulant child, mumbling something about being a good sport and getting it over with it.
Vincenzo started, arm stretched, his fingers at the ready. Finally.
But wait.
Hesitation
But why.
But no.
So, he readied himself again. "Not gonna lose my precious opportunity," he thought.
But his fingers wouldn't budge.
Suddenly, it was all too calm now. Too peaceful. Hong Cha Young and peaceful? Hong Cha Young and scared?
It unnerved him. How her eyes were closed, denying him the fire that burned within. How her face settled into a scrunched up expression, hints of fear etched all over. This isn't like her.
A single eye cracks open.
“What are you doing, get it over with”
A step closer.
He peers down at her, even more fascinated from the view up close.
Eyes slowly drift down to her lips. Those damned lips again. His mind flashes back to the lipstick he’d seen earlier when she was reapplying it. Shade name - Spicy red chili. Fiery, just like her. How apt.
So Vincenzo fails. Again. All because of a squirmy dramatic lawyer. He lets his fingers touch her forehead with nowhere near the ferocity as he’d imagined he would use but instead delicately. So, so delicately. Much like the current mood of the room.
Clearing his throat he steps back, trying to not pay too much attention to Cha Young who looks thoroughly confused. With good reason though.
“What...you should have done it properly.”
“I did, my fingers slipped.” What a lie.
Mimicking the motions of the flick again, he slowly backs further away, looking for an escape from the awkwardness that has suddenly settled. You fool, you utter fool he thinks as he tries to maintain his composure. Quickly switching his tactics, he pretends to look for some documents and walks further into the room. In his periphery, he notices Cha Young looking equally flustered and confused as she trails behind him.
The awkwardness now morphs into irritation. The shuffled papers mask the disgruntled sound that escapes him as he chides himself for lowering his defenses when it came to Hong Cha Young. A finger flick! He failed a simple finger flick!
He shuffles around some more papers, hoping to let the awkwardness fade and the irritation subside. But then he hear’s Cha Young’s surprised squeak. He turns. It’s the annoying intern. Again. She manages to land a solid punch on the intern, causing pride to flare up within him briefly but he squashes that down and makes a half hearted attempt to return the greeting thrown his way. He turns back around, irritated again. This wasn’t what he had in mind when he wished for the mood to change.
But he keeps his ears perked up, listens to Jang Joon Woo with his overly excited voice and too posh of an accent announce he’s made partner at Wusang. Big accomplishment he thinks sarcastically, the irritation amped up. It’s somewhat placated when he realizes Hong Cha Young’s reaction to the news is fairly lukewarm as well. So when she congratulates him, he throws one at him as well but the feigned nonchalance is getting harder to maintain.
He then hears her offer him to buy him dinner. Dinner? Cha-young’s buying the loud mouth dinner? Jjampong? You mean the noodles with the spicy red chili sauce? Lipstick? Cha Young's lips?
W h a t
The irritation is back with full force now. At himself, at Cha Young and certainly at the intern, no, - partner - . It strengthens even more when he realizes he’s not included in the conversation. Fine then.
"I’m good. Enjoy your meal (not)," he throws out.
Back firmly turned, he moves around some more papers, wishing he could replace them with a certain someone’s neck.
Said someone speaks up again. "Ahh, I guess Italians aren't accustomed to spicy food."
His neck whips back up, a retort well on its way when dear Ms Hong Cha Young oh so lovingly adds fuel to the fire.
"Hmm, I guess they cant."
Vincenzo snaps. He sees a different red now.
The papers get slammed down with a resounding thud.
Not today. Not right now. And certainly not to this junior.
It doesn't matter that he shies away from the spicy side of any cuisine. It doesn't matter that he knows as either an Italian or Korean, him and spicy don't mix. All that matters, is that the intern doesn't know that.
Vincenzo knows he might regret his own words somewhere down the line but he does not care. He will eat every last single piece of chili on the planet if he knows that's how he can wipe the smug smile of that smarmy face. And so he argues.
And so he eats. He watches as Jang Joon Woo attempts to sneakily pour more chili sauce onto his noodles. But it takes two to tango so he pours it right back. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Cha Young wordlessly eye the interaction between the two while slurping down her own noodles without breaking a single sweat. Damn.
But he shall not yield. Vincenzo Cassano does not yield. No matter what.
Not even when he sits side by side with the intern outside the restaurant hastily drinking the milk Cha Young wordlessly hands to the pair that is close to panting like dogs. Men she thinks but says nothing. You pay for your actions after all.
As the milk makes its way down his throat, providing some relief to the fire burning - mind you the one in his stomach, not his soul, he schemes for revenge, though not entirely sure of what kind. After Cha Young answers an urgent call and helps haul him up and leaves the intern behind, Vincenzo knows he’s won. Not quite the revenge he had in mind, but it’ll do for now. He’ll think again, once he flushes the chili out of his system.
And it is much later that he admits, in all honesty, the only spicy red chili Vincenzo would be willing to taste would be the shade of red painted on Hong Cha Young’s lips. Never the one that is poured into his pitiful bowl of noodles.