Twenty-Seven, and the Engagement (3)
Seoyeong's proposal was far too sweet. Just as I'd expected, she wasn't thrilled about this engagement either. But the way she jumped straight into suggesting it the moment we met made me think she was planning to milk the situation for all it was worth rather than just breaking it off outright.
Her proposal went like this: we'd meet up once a week or so, keep up the appearance of a decent engagement on the surface, and avoid all the hassle from both families stirring up trouble. I was a little surprised, but honestly, it appealed to me.
From the first time I saw her, Seoyeong had this oddly likable vibe. Not to sound shallow or anything, but with a great figure, a pretty face, and such a refreshingly straightforward personality... If I had even a shred more interest in women, I might've at least tried dating her, if not marriage.
But without those feelings, all I could think was that she was pretty—nothing more. If I had to put it into words, she felt less like a romantic prospect and more like a comrade in the same boat.
And so, without breaking off the engagement, we kept up the act of being on good terms, meeting just enough to sell it. Our usual spot was a café near her place, for her convenience. It was far enough from home that my family wouldn't notice, and even on Saturdays, there was no risk of her parents—Yoon Sajang and his wife—catching us.
Honestly, after accepting her idea, I'd never felt so at ease. No drama at home—what a relief. We'd spend maybe 20 or 30 minutes together at most, exchange a few perfunctory greetings, and that was it. We'd each scroll on our phones or do whatever, then part ways. For someone like me who had zero clue what to talk about with the opposite sex, it was the perfect, stress-free arrangement.
We never ate together, so we'd grab something quick nearby and just show our faces at the café at the appointed time before heading out. That left me with some extra time afterward—time for myself, which I hadn't had in ages. Part of me even hoped things could stay this way forever.
"Mind if I sit here?"
...Until Seojin caught us, that is.
I couldn't have been more shocked. The thought of getting caught hadn't even crossed my mind. But then it hit me: it wasn't impossible for her parents to find out, but with Seojin, it could've happened anytime without raising eyebrows. The café was near their home, and it was the weekend, after all.
Seoyeong probably hadn't thought of her either. We’d both been way too careless.
I scrambled for an excuse in a panic, but it was already too late—I knew it the second I saw Seojin's face. She'd been quietly watching us the whole time, from start to finish. No way she'd buy any excuses now.
With a slightly stiff expression, Seojin quietly pressed us to come clean about everything. I could've fudged it with a half-lie, sure. But for some reason, I didn't want to lie to her. Before I even debated it, my mouth was already spilling the truth.
Once it was all out, I felt a strange mix of relief and complication—like a weight lifted, but new tangles forming.
As expected, Seojin looked pretty pissed. She was trying not to show it, but her face gave her away. I'd never seen her look so cold. ...Though today was only our third meeting, granted.
Grrrowl—
Then, cutting through the frozen tension, my stomach let out a loud rumble out of nowhere. Come to think of it, I hadn't eaten breakfast, and lunchtime was almost over. The timing couldn't have been worse.
Mortified, I clutched my stomach and turned away. Even so, I could feel Seojin's gaze burning into me. My face heated up with embarrassment.
"Ajusshi, don't tell me... you skipped lunch?"
Her words left me deflating into a helpless laugh. No denying it, so I just nodded.
That opened the floodgates—Seoyeong and I had never eaten together once, and I'd always been scarfing down whatever nearby. All of it came out.
Seojin pondered with an even angrier face for a while. Why does even her mad face look so cute... The thought popped into my head just as she suddenly shot up from her seat and grabbed my arm.
"Get up, ajusshi. You're coming with me. Now."
"Wha—huh?"
My arm was tugged along, but her slender fingers didn't pull hard—it was more like I was following voluntarily. Still, I didn't want to risk hurting her by resisting, so I played along obediently.
The problem was the destination: her parents' place. Yoon Sajang's home.
Seojin shoved me toward the house like it was the most natural thing. I dug in my heels at the entrance in shock, but I couldn't win against her stubbornness.
And so, my second visit to Yoon Sajang's. This time, no parents or fiancée—just Seojin and me alone.
What the hell is this situation...
After washing my hands in a daze in the bathroom, my eyes landed on the shower stall. Shampoo and conditioner were neatly lined up on a low shelf—way below eye level. Even the showerhead was positioned suspiciously low.
Seoyeong used this too, but anyone could see it was set for Seojin's height. Her family is so thoughtful. I left the bathroom feeling quietly touched—and locked eyes with Seojin in the kitchen.
"Don't lift a finger. Just sit."
She nodded at a dining chair. It wasn't a request; it was an order. And for some reason, in every way that mattered, I had zero urge to defy it.
I sat quietly and waited. Meanwhile, Seojin focused solely on cooking. Watching her tiny frame bustle around in an apron, I felt a swell of admiration. She must've looked like this when she served those fruits last time. It stirred something oddly warm in me.
But what was she making? Whatever it was, she looked so happy doing it.
"Done!"
A moment later, she set a bowl in front of me with a light flourish. Inside was fried rice—glossy grains steaming fresh from the pan, looking utterly mouthwatering.
...She made this for me?
"Here, eat."
She added some side dishes and said it so matter-of-factly that my brain short-circuited for a second.
"Why... lunch all of a sudden...?"
I stared up at her, dumbfounded.
"You'd just grab instant noodles at a convenience store or PC bang again, right?"
She snorted and continued. "I've been worried about that cup ramen from before, and look—you walked right into it. From now on, every time you meet my sister, come straight here like today. Got it?"
What in the world...
Why did she care so much about how I ate? But strangely, her meddling didn't annoy me. It felt good, actually. Knowing someone cared this much about me was... joyful.
"And if... I don't?"
I probed cautiously, and she narrowed her eyes with a sly grin.
"Then I'll have a nice, long chat with Mom, Dad~ and your family~"
Each tap of her finger on the table made my eyes blink involuntarily. It was borderline blackmail, but it didn't feel that way at all.
Feeling lighter, I picked up the spoon to try her fried rice. The first bite made my eyes widen on their own.
Delicious. The fluffy grains were perfectly seasoned, sliding down smooth and savory. Finely chopped ham and veggies added subtle nuttiness with every chew. No sides needed.
My hand wouldn't stop. Better than any restaurant, with that comforting home-cooked vibe. By the time I noticed, the bowl was scraped clean—I'd devoured it without realizing.
It was that good—words like "delicious" fell short. The spoon kept moving.
Seojin beamed the whole time, clearly thrilled. She has such a great smile.
After I finished, she asked what I planned to do next. Truth be told, I had no real plan. Just keep the engagement low-key until it fizzled out naturally...
Thankfully—or predictably—Seojin wasn't going to snitch. Just be more careful not to get caught, and we'd figure out a solution slowly, she said. Then, casually, she added that I should hang out with her every time I met Seoyeong.
To her, I was just some ajusshi—how fun could that be? She'd have way more laughs with friends her age.
"Kids these days don't click with me."
Hearing that, it clicked. Every kid that age has it: feeling special, more mature than their peers. She was right at that stage.
What an interesting kid. I was already looking forward to next time.
...But is this okay?