Eighteen, and Winter (7)
I lined up the ingredients on the table and stared at them for a good while. They didn't look like much, but if I messed this up, the whole day would be ruined. I broke the firm brown chunks into small pieces and transferred them to a glass bowl, then set it over a pot of hot steaming water. Thanks to the heat rising from below, the pieces that hadn't budged at first started crumbling from the edges with each stir of the spoon. A strange aroma tickled my nose—bitter mixed with sweet. A bit more stirring, and what had been solid lumps had turned into a smooth, glossy liquid.
One slip, and even a single drop might spill, so I held my breath as I poured it into the small molds, moving my hands with utmost care. It wasn't my first time. Every year around this time, I'd done it a few times, so I could pretty much gauge by eye when to lower the heat and how long to keep stirring. Still, today felt a little different. There was one more person to give it to.
Normally, I'd make just enough for one, fill a single mold, and whatever was left, my sister and I would polish off together. But today, I was dividing the same brown liquid into two molds. Not a huge increase in quantity, but it was for two people instead of one.
"Two people..." I muttered to myself, and the still-glistening brown in the glass bowl suddenly looked richer.
Right then, my phone buzzed on the table. I paused and checked—it was a message from Hyeji.
A sigh escaped me automatically. I was about to reply when I froze—there were already several more messages stacked up, not just from her.
Every single one was asking how to make chocolate. If you don't know, just search online—why ask me? Last year, it was only one or two people, but this year, who knows why there are so many.
Today was Valentine's Day. The day when girls give chocolate to guys they're close to... you know, that obligatory thing. Instead of making it themselves—which is a hassle—they could just buy some, but everyone makes such a fuss.
Still, I'm glad Valentine's is in February. If it were after March, I'd have to make "friendship chocolate" for everyone, no doubt. It happened on Pepero Day, after all. At least for me, every Valentine's, making just enough for Dad was easy. This year, one more person, though.
"Finally able to see you properly—I'm so relieved."
I muttered it without thinking while waiting for the chocolate to set. Lunchtime suddenly felt even more exciting. Even after visiting Chairman Han's house, I hadn't had a proper chance to meet ajusshi. I'd brought it up several times after that day—let's meet, just to see your face—but he never made time, leaving me frustrated.
Ah, but he called often. Texts came frequently, and I heard his voice a lot... but that was it. So this winter break felt especially boring. Not seeing his face in person left me oddly empty, and days spent lounging at home outnumbered the rest. If I didn't see him at least once before break ended, it just wouldn't satisfy me.
I couldn't hold back and lured him out, saying I had something to talk about. I was half-planning to threaten him, but surprisingly, he said today worked fine right away. My sister was out, too, so I told him to come to our place. The timing was perfect.
"Oh, right. Gotta prep lunch ahead."
A glance at the clock showed it was already past 11:30. I hurriedly washed my hands and opened the fridge again. Today's menu: stir-fried octopus. I pulled out the prepped octopus, set it by the sink, and lined up the ingredients.
As I sliced the veggies with quick strokes, shaping them up, my phone vibrated and rang. The name on the screen made me hit accept on reflex.
"You almost here?"
I blurted it out, forgetting even a greeting. A soft chuckle came through the receiver—ajusshi.
"Yeah, almost there. Be right over."
I grinned at that, but then parking crossed my mind. Our apartment doesn't let visitor cars into the underground lot without registration. If he drove, he'd be stuck at the gate, and security would call our intercom to confirm.
"You driving?"
"Yeah. Why?"
As expected. No way he'd take the subway or bus with a car.
"What's your license plate?"
"Why do you need the plate..."
Before he trailed off, I cut in.
"You have to register visitor vehicles for our apartment. Just tell me quick."
"Oh, got it."
He recited the plate number clearly. I repeated it back under my breath while tapping the apartment app open with my other hand. We wrapped up the call short.
Back to kitchen prep—
Vehicle has arrived.
The intercom chimed from the living room, and my lips curved up on their own.
"He's here, he's here~"
I adjusted my apron strings unnecessarily and hummed some random tune. Ding-dong. The doorbell rang soon after. My body moved on instinct, dashing to the entrance. My heart thumped once, hard. I kept wanting to grin, so I pressed my lips down forcibly, but it was no use.
"Yeees~"
I pulled the door open, and cool outside air rushed in. There, through the gap, was ajusshi. Last time, his face had been stiff, but today it was lighter. His mouth curved up slightly, closer to the ajusshi I knew. Well, back then, with my sister's engagement talk, he couldn't help but be tense.
"Come on in~!"
I looked up first to greet him, and he froze for a second. Then, like he was pondering what to say, he blinked once and raised a hand.
"Uh... yeah. Long time no see."
He waved awkwardly even as he said it—it was kinda funny.
"Come in, come in."
I grabbed that hand and pulled him inside, striding ahead. He followed obediently, half-dragged, then spoke up suddenly.
"You were cooking?"
I widened my eyes and looked up at him.
"How'd you know?"
Instead of answering, he pointed at me.
"You're wearing an apron..."
"Oh."
Right—I was still prepping lunch, and I'd had it on since the chocolate. I'd forgotten.
"I see~"
Without letting go of his hand, I led him toward the bathroom.
"Almost done. Wash up first~"
He headed straight in without hesitation. Even after months away, he remembered. Meanwhile, I finished up in the kitchen—lowered the heat on the octopus stir-fry and flipped it once more, scooped rice. Steam rose perfectly; prime eating time.
"All set."
As he emerged, I nodded toward the kitchen. It had been so long. We sat across at the table, and he grabbed his spoon first. Then he ate like he hadn't in days. No one was stealing it, but he barely spoke, just kept shoveling it in. His chewing wasn't loud, but the pace was so fast I paused with my own spoon midway.
"...That hungry?"
I asked with wide eyes, and he paused. He barely swallowed and said casually,
"No, it's just... so good."
"'Cause it's good?"
"Yeah."
I grew more puzzled. At Chairman Han's, he barely ate, and Madam Han worried he wasn't eating lately. But now he was devouring it. Was mine really better? I tried a bite—octopus was well-stirred, but the seasoning was the usual, and the sides paled next to theirs. So even when he said it was good, I just tilted my head. Maybe he was just hungry? Glancing curiously, he finished his bowl clean and asked for seconds. Well, he was eating well, so I felt good.
After, we cleared together. Back in the living room, we sat side by side on the sofa. I grabbed the remote and opened Netflix. He hadn't been over, so I hadn't watched anything. Surprisingly, tons of watchable dramas had piled up.
"This one, or..."
I was scrolling thumbnails when—
"Seojin."
His voice stopped my hand.
"This."
I turned, and he held out a small box. Palm-sized, but the packaging was sleek—perfect ribbon, premium paper texture. Made me even more curious.
"What's this?"
"A gift. Early birthday present."
I blinked.
"My birthday's next week. Why now?"
He averted his gaze slightly at my question.
"Hard to see you often. Figured if I didn't give it now, I might not get to."
My lips curved up on their own.
"Hard to see 'cause someone won't make time~?"
I teased, and he looked away, clearing his throat.
"Ahem..."
So obvious it was funny.
"Kidding, kidding~ Thanks so much for the gift."
I looked back at the box. Too neat to rip open carelessly.
"So, what is it?"
He relaxed a bit, scratched his head.
"Nothing special... a pen."
"A pen?"
"Yeah."
I rolled it in my palm, gauging the weight. I'd worried it might be something burdensome—no stuffed animals for me. But practical, something I'd use often—made it even better.
"How'd you know my birthday?"
Curiosity struck. How?
He seemed stumped briefly, then awkwardly,
"...Saw it in KakaoTalk."
"In messages?"
"Yeah... that's how."
I nodded, remembering profiles show birthdays, but it felt suspicious. Why so awkward? Still, no urge to pry. He remembered to get a gift—that mattered, and I didn't want to ruin the mood. Gratitude filled me more.
So I jumped up.
Not quite a return gift, but time to give mine anyway.
"Be right back—kitchen quick."
Before he could react, I bolted to the kitchen. Fridge open, cold air brushed my face. I carefully pulled out what I'd stashed inside. The brown lumps I'd fussed over earlier gleamed even more appetizingly.
I grabbed the prepped clear plastic container, shook out the set chocolate gently, arranged so they wouldn't rattle, and wrapped it up.
Looks pretty decent. Satisfaction tugged my lips.
Problem: leftovers that didn't fit. After a moment's thought, I plated a few and headed back.
Gotta ask him to try one.
Ajusshi sat on the sofa, TV on but... not really watching. Staring blankly ahead, lost in thought. Screen changed, but his gaze didn't follow. That expression sparked mischief in me.
I plopped down casually beside him, held up a chocolate, and said,
"Ajusshi, say ahh?"
"...Huh?"
He looked at me blankly, then a beat late, opened his mouth with an "ahh." I popped one in quick. He snapped to, eyes widening.
I looked up at him, feigning innocence with a grin.
"What's this~?"
Ajusshi's face turned red.