Chapter 35
The natural one is the scariest. Yoo Seol-ah doesn't even try to hide her laughter at the sight of me in an apron. It's kinda cute how satisfied she is with just an apron.
"An apron's enough? Should I match it with some shoes too?"
"...I wasn't laughing 'cause I like couple outfits—it's just that the apron suits you surprisingly well, okay? And what couple? We're not a couple or anything... why would we match...!"
Her face flushes as she retorts, raising her voice but keeping it low enough not to carry to the living room—a high-level skill. Aprons don't really depend on build, and I'm not some hulking brute, so it does fit okay. But calling it not couple-matching feels suspicious; there are more than a few points that say otherwise. Still, she denies it, so I can't exactly pry.
Meanwhile, she's pushing hard on the "not a couple" line. Our personalities run on similar wavelengths, so I get it. If we were officially dating, it'd mean doing all sorts of lovey-dovey stuff that, in my case, would hit me mentally pretty hard if I tried it stone-cold sober. Stuff like 'Seol-ah.' or 'I love you.'... just imagining it makes my limbs lock up.
I gaze at her face for a moment, running a simulation. Her response comes back perfectly snarky, just as expected.
"What're you staring at...?"
"Nah, just—same apron, but yours almost reaches the floor."
"You wanna die for real...?"
...Yeah, no way that's easy between us. Seol-ah's even more shy than me, probably. And if we went official, we'd have to introduce each other to friends and family eventually—plenty of headaches there. Who knows about the future, but right now, this setup feels just right.
Seol-ah clears her throat lightly, then tosses out a question in a casually indifferent tone.
"So why'd you suddenly put on an apron...?"
"Clothes get messy when you're cooking. You came dressed all cute."
"......Hmph."
She asked, but shows no real reaction. She turns and heads to the fridge, glancing back as she opens it.
"People are waiting, so let's get started."
"You know what ingredients we're using?"
"...You take 'em out since I opened the door."
It's supposed to be division of labor, but with this workload gap, could I report her to labor board?
"Clothes get messy when you're cooking. You came dressed all cute."
Baek Sion says it like it's no big deal, and to hide my pounding heart, I immediately turn and head to the fridge. I'd agonized forever over picking these cute outfits, hoping he'd like them, but hearing him call them pretty straight from his mouth stirs up a whirlwind of emotions.
Of course, excitement's the biggest, but there's a twinge of annoyance too. He claims he's never dated, so why does he toss out lines like that so casually? It makes me feel like I'm the only one getting flustered. And it's obvious he didn't prepare some line—it just slipped out—which bugs me even more.
He's not secretly used to girls or anything, right? Thinking about it, no way girls would leave that face alone... His fashion sense isn't god-tier, but with that tall frame, anything looks good on him. What if he sweet-talks girls in his department like that? Nursing has way more girls—what do I do...?
They say natural characters are the scariest, and damn, it's true. Suddenly my head fills with anxiety and stray thoughts. I blurt out without even thinking what to grab.
"People are waiting, so let's get started."
"You know what ingredients we're using?"
See?! He picks fights like this all the time, dropping casual lines that make my heart skip. Back at the gym, he complimented my outfit offhand; when classmates came up, he said I was prettier. Sure, some of it was teasing, but knowing that doesn't stop the butterflies...
Plus the apron he draped on me so naturally, and all the other little things—my head and body are a mess right now. What's with you today, Baek Sion...?
"Lee Seo-yeon, got rice cakes for tteokbokki?"
"Yeah~ Left freezer, right compartment~"
Seo-yeon's reply echoes from the living room as he yells pretty loud. I'm rummaging in the freezer when Sion nudges me aside.
"I'll handle most of it, so just do what I tell you."
Is he ignoring me or being considerate? I step back without a word. He quickly finds the rice cake bag and hands it to me; I move it aside.
Seo-yeon's fridge is stocked like a pro chef's—every container labeled—so we find stuff faster than expected.
"No recipe?"
"Tteokbokki's all pretty similar anyway. Adjust on the fly."
If he's good at cooking too... Should I make bank and turn him into a househusband? My illustration pages pull in decent cash; it'd cover us both. Or if I got a job... coming home to him in an apron prepping dinner, saying 'Welcome home?' Heh...
"Hey, spacing out in the kitchen's dangerous."
Sion snaps me back. How far did my fantasy go...!
"Wash your hands first, then soak the cakes in cold water. Thaw and rinse 'em."
"Okay."
He dives in without a recipe, no hesitation. He even assigns me fitting tasks.
"What's that?"
"Kelp and anchovy pack. Dashi bag—like a teabag. Just boil it for broth."
"There's stuff like that...?"
"From Seo-yeon's company. Pretty good, so I use it a lot."
...Why does a twenty-year-old guy feel like my mom? I know he's not normal, but no close guy friends to compare.
He grabs a pot from the bottom drawer, fills it with water, sets it on the induction, then pulls me to another spot.
"Ever chopped?"
"...No."
"Then do it today."
He plops green onions on the board and points to the knife block. My heart skips a bit. Mana would prevent cuts, so no fear, but sucking would be embarrassing. Gripping confidently to chop—
"...Put the knife down first."
Kitchen newbie me drops it fast. He starts explaining as I turn.
"Never heard of cat's paw grip?"
"I have, but..."
"Make a fist."
"Like this?"
"Now imagine gripping an egg in that pose."
He demonstrates hand shapes. Guess my form looked risky earlier. I retry with left hand tucked—sizes all uneven.
"Pfft..."
I hear stifled laughter, set the knife down, and glare. He apologizes readily, thinks a sec, then moves behind me.
Heart races at the close distance—then his hands overlay mine, and it's near-explosion.
...This is basically a backhug, right? His arms are extended, so only hands touch. Yeah, not a real hug. Teaching knife skills. But if so, why so awkward? He's twisting to avoid contact.
"If you're teaching, just stick close instead of being weird."
I grab his wrist, pull—he's fully backhugging now. His warmth, the cozy protectiveness from our size difference, and... that softish press above my hips.
Haa... Not aiming for it, but I know I gotta hold back. My libido's been raging since our first time three days ago. Returning to Earth amped it up, not down. Nights are torture. Pain's gone thanks to me, but my already sensitive body plus side effects left only overwhelming pleasure. Can't forget that brain-melting first.
After he left, I'd replay it and touch myself plenty, but climaxes never satisfied. Can't just call him over for sex, so today's meetup. At Seo-yeon's, I tried suppressing, but gym hug was minor crisis; open-air bath with his swollen swimsuit was major. Boyfriend—or whatever—getting turned on by my swimsuit? Can't not heat up.
Third crisis now, but no hardening means no ulterior motives. Reminding myself it's someone else's kitchen, I calm down. Oblivious Sion launches a structured knife lesson, teaches too well—my skills skyrocket. Damn... thanks a ton. Should be a pro knife tutor.
"You're picking it up fast. Could handle all the prep yourself."
"Keep this up and you'll dump everything on me?"
"...Nah, joking... why're you mad...?"
Can't explain, so the annoyance lingers.