Tangerine or Peach
I thought every single day would be unbearable. He wasn’t the person I wanted, after all—he was a man I’d disliked for a long time. If I really thought about it, our relationship had only started getting better recently. Had I known that my fleeting pity would lead to us becoming lovers, I would have reconsidered everything.
But the chance to back out had already sailed away. That shameful morning when we fell asleep tangled together like two pieces fitted into one. I got up early, washed up, and sniffled my way through preparing breakfast. I took two eggs out of the refrigerator.
I’d been neglecting exercise lately. For lunch, I’d head out to the sea for a refreshing swim. Maybe I’d treat myself to dinner out for the first time in a while. I was in the middle of fixing a simple meal of fried eggs on bread when the scent that had toyed with my heart all night long drifted up behind me.
“...What?”
“Did you sleep well?”
His scent must have come from the body wash. Fresh from the shower, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and waist from behind and pressed gently. The feeling of being trapped in something solid made my body tense instantly. He hugged me tighter, savoring the way I had frozen even my breathing. Doing something he’d never done before, he rubbed his nose against the back of my head.
“You smell good.”
I hadn’t washed my hair. The memory that I’d only rinsed my bangs made an embarrassed laugh slip out of me.
“Want me to wash yours too?”
“Eun-dam’s smell.”
It was about time the word “smell” started to sound like an insult. Especially when he smelled as sweet as wildflowers blooming on a sunny hill. To regain some control, I peeled his arms from around my waist.
“Should I make a fried egg for you too?”
“Yeah.”
But he stubbornly wrapped his arms around me again and rested his cheek on top of my head. Didn’t his back hurt? There was a clear height difference between us. It felt like I was carrying a baby on my back in a wrap, but Cha Jun-jae wouldn’t stop smiling, so I couldn’t bring myself to complain. I took out the frying pan, added oil, cracked the eggs. Through it all, Cha Jun-jae stayed glued to my back.
“Want me to break the yolk for you?”
“I like mine soft-boiled too.”
“Ketchup?”
“Put some on mine too.”
Fried egg on toast with ketchup. He knew it was my favorite combination and asked for exactly the same. I focused on cooking the eggs without a word of protest. His breath, carrying a smile against my neck, was so distracting I didn’t even notice the heat from the stove. That was when I reached for the next egg. Without warning, his lips flew in, brushing across my cheek and chin. I’d already been fighting off the ticklish feeling, so I shot him a narrow-eyed glare.
“Hey.”
“Yeah?”
His eyes folded beautifully, the picture of innocence, as if he had no idea what he’d done. He’d once told me he wasn’t interested in me as a woman. All I could do was marvel at the way he could perform two completely different versions of himself with the same mouth.
“This is a little much. I’m trying to cook.”
“Okay, okay.”
Clinging to me again like a spoiled child, Cha Jun-jae’s emotions seemed to be floating somewhere above the clouds. It had only been one day since we started dating. I had planned to reconsider our relationship once his mental state improved, but I was growing more and more timid. Shaking my head at the increasingly complicated thoughts, I placed the finished fried egg onto the waiting slices of bread.
“Here, take it.”
I handed him the plate briskly, hoping to pry him off me. Fortunately, Cha Jun-jae still had some sense left; he took the plate and set it on the table. As I grabbed water and cola and headed over, one more surprise waited for me. Sunlight poured down over Cha Jun-jae’s head as he quietly offered a prayer before the meal.
Since when had he been such a devout believer?
Cha Jun-jae, who had prayed with solemn reverence, opened his eyes. He smiled at me as I stood there blankly holding the drinks. The sunlight streaming in from behind lit his smile like a spotlight until the very last moment. My heart, meanwhile, plummeted into a dark abyss as though it had fallen from grace.
“I’m thirsty, Eun-dam.”
I walked slowly toward Cha Jun-jae as he reached out to me. I placed the cola in his hand and sat down carefully. My heart still hadn’t recovered from the sudden smile attack. Crispy toast, soft half-cooked yolk, ketchup. I watched Cha Jun-jae take a bite at the exact same moment I did and asked,
“When did you start praying?”
“I made a promise.”
“With who?”
“With the One above.”
It felt like playing twenty questions, but I let it slide with a quiet acceptance. Even that simple answer made my heart strangely flutter. If I listened too closely and ended up falling completely for Cha Jun-jae, what would I do?
“After breakfast I’m going swimming. What about you, Jun-jae?”
“Me too.”
“Okay.”
I could tell exactly where Cha Jun-jae’s eyes were focused during breakfast. The area around my lips felt unusually ticklish. It seemed like he might climb over the table again like yesterday and steal a kiss. I chewed and swallowed the toast as quickly as someone being punished by their food. But the next words forced me to look at him.
“But, Eun-dam.”
“Mm?”
I swear I wasn’t trying to act cute. My cheeks were stuffed full of toast, so that was simply how it came out. Across from me, Cha Jun-jae—who had only nibbled the very edge of his toast—hesitated with strangely shy eyes.
“Well...”
The way he dragged it out was suspicious. I couldn’t let go of my curiosity and pressed him.
“Why, why, why?”
“You know.”
“Say it.”
“When I see other people...”
His naturally slow speech combined with my impatient personality created a perfect storm. My patience finally ran out. I picked up my water glass and glared at him.
“Three seconds. Say it.”
“Um...”
“Three.”
“We...”
“Two.”
“Don’t we call each other things like ‘baby’?”
“O-one...”
My tongue, which had been counting so firmly, tangled up and I nearly spat out my water. He wasn’t someone who had deliberately infiltrated the island to date me. He knew perfectly well that we had stumbled into this relationship in the most vague way possible, yet here he was being so shameless. As I sat there with my mouth hanging open, Cha Jun-jae’s ears turned bright red and he poked at his toast with his fork.
“Isn’t it a little heartless, Jun-jae… Everyone just calls you Jun-jae.”
“...You.”
“I was just saying it. I know it doesn’t suit me anyway.”
Cha Jun-jae’s smile had died. He kept his head down and stabbed the egg yolk with his fork. The undercooked yolk spread beautifully across the toast. Unlike me, who ate the bread with my hands, he cut his with a fork and knife. He sliced off only the tiniest piece and chewed it like rubber.
I’d fallen for his trap again. I rested my chin in my hands.
“Then call me Peach.”
If I went completely overboard, maybe even Cha Jun-jae would give up. I twisted my head this way and that, trying to look even more ridiculous. In the end, he couldn’t hold back his laughter and turned his face away.
“Or tangerine? Or melon?”
The names were getting stranger by the second. At my words, Cha Jun-jae turned back with laughter still lingering on his face.
“Do you really like that?”
“No. I absolutely hate it.”
The thought that Cha Jun-jae might seriously start calling me tangerine or peach sent shivers down my spine. Realizing he was only teasing me, he gave me a gaze filled with soft pink affection.
“I just want something normal… like ‘honey’ or ‘baby’...”
Even now, he refused to abandon his desires. I couldn’t open my mouth, as if spider silk had sealed it shut. I felt myself growing weak to him. Defeated, I waved my fork and nodded.
“Call me whatever you want.”
“Peach, baby.”
“......”
“Tangerine, honey.”
“I take it back. This won’t work. Let’s just use names.”
Having succeeded in his prank, Cha Jun-jae collapsed onto the table, laughing loudly. I watched his shoulders shake with laughter until the sound became contagious. The eggs tasted sweet even though no sugar had been added. I kept watching him as he laughed like he would never stop, even as the sun climbed high into the sky. The feeling—warm, tender, the sense of growing weak to him—I still didn’t know what to call it.