Sunday's Dining Table
Sunday morning. I opened my eyes at nine o'clock. Since it was the weekend, I had turned off my alarm, but my internal clock woke me right on cue. I stretched my limbs and climbed out of bed. When I drew back the curtains, bright April sunlight flooded the room. It was a crisp, clear day, making the downpour from a few days ago feel like a distant dream.
After washing my face, I opened the refrigerator. A carton of eggs, bacon, crisp lettuce, tomatoes, sandwich bread, butter, and cream cheese. There was even a ripe avocado. I had gone grocery shopping the day before, wanting to treat myself to a proper meal for a weekend morning.
I decided on brunch. Setting two frying pans on the stove, I laid thick slices of bacon across the first. They began to sizzle, rendering their rich fat. In the second pan, I melted a pat of butter and cracked in the eggs for a scramble. Lowering the heat, I gently stirred them with chopsticks. The true secret to velvety scrambled eggs was low heat and patience. Next, I sliced the tomatoes, halved the avocado to remove the pit, and popped the bread into the toaster. I rinsed the lettuce, shook it dry, and spread a generous layer of cream cheese over the golden toast before topping it with lettuce, tomato, and avocado slices. On separate plates, I arranged the crispy bacon and the fluffy eggs.
...It was a mountain of food. Far too much for one person. Why on earth did I make this much? It was pure habit—an unconscious urge to empty whatever ingredients were in the fridge. Besides, lately, eating alone had become the exception rather than the rule.
I laid out the plates across the kitchen island: toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, sliced apples, and freshly brewed coffee from the kettle. A rich, nutty aroma drifted through the apartment. I cracked the kitchen window open, letting the gentle morning air of spring mingle with the scent of roast coffee.
The doorbell rang.
"Mister!"
It was Yuri. Her face completely filled the intercom monitor, her nose squished flat against the lens because she was standing so close.
"Yuri, you're going to break your nose like that."
I unlocked and opened the door. There she stood, wearing a pink dress, a pair of rabbit-ear headbands, and her brown hair neatly tied into twin tails. Her big eyes sparkled up at me.
"Mister, it smells!"
"Smells like what?"
"Something delicious!"
Behind Yuri stood Seojin, smiling with an apologetic expression. "Siu-ssi, I'm so sorry to bother you so early. Yuri caught the scent and simply wouldn't take no for an answer..."
"Please, come on in. I actually made way too much."
Fortunately, that wasn't a polite lie. Seojin and Yuri stepped inside, and Yuri's eyes went wide the moment she saw the kitchen island.
"Whoa! Toast! And eggs too!"
Yuri scrambled up onto a stool, with Seojin steadying her from behind. As Seojin walked past, our eyes met. It was our first time seeing each other since Thursday night. We had both been busy on Friday and Saturday—whether intentionally or by mere coincidence. A faint blush crept across her cheeks. I chose to tell myself it was just the morning sunlight.
"Would you like some coffee?"
"Yes, thank you."
Just as I was pouring her a cup, the doorbell chimed again.
"Oppa! It's Dain! What is this heavenly smell drifting down from the second floor?!"
Dain's energetic voice practically exploded through the intercom speaker.
"Door's unlocked."
Dain burst in. Once again, she was sporting an oversized sweatshirt in heather gray. As for her bottom half... she wore tiny shorts, but because the sweatshirt fell so low, it hid them entirely, leaving her bare legs fully exposed above the knees. Her hair was pulled back haphazardly with a single hairpin, typical for someone just out of bed. She had washed her face, but wore zero makeup, and her eyes were still slightly puffy. She had clearly slept in and been jolted awake by the food.
"Oppa, what is this gourmet spread?!" Dain exclaimed in awe, taking in the feast on the counter. But as she brushed past me, my eyes caught something. Beneath the fabric of her gray sweatshirt, two distinct, subtle contours pushed outward. She wasn't wearing a bra.
I tore my gaze away immediately. But the image was already burned into my mind: two faint protrusions against the soft heather gray. Because Dain was petite and slender, their presence was almost impossible to miss. Dain, completely oblivious, casually pulled up a seat next to Yuri.
"Hey there, Yuri~"
"Dain Unnie!" Yuri cheered happily.
The doorbell chimed once more, but this time there was no voice. I glanced at the monitor. Lee Haeun. She was wearing a black tank top and workout leggings, earphones still tucked into her ears. She had evidently just finished her morning workout. I swung the door open.
"Food ready?"
Classic Haeun greeting.
"Are you eating?"
"Of course I am."
Haeun strolled inside. The black tank top accentuated her broad, athletic shoulders, sculpted arms, and defined collarbones. Beneath the thin fabric, the firm outline of her sports bra was easily visible. She hadn't wiped off her sweat yet, leaving a subtle sheen along her neck. Her muscles rippled gracefully in the morning sunlight.
"Ah, Haeun Unnie!" Dain waved cheerily.
"Hey."
Haeun's greeting to Dain was just as blunt. Equal opportunity gruffness. Haeun pulled out a chair, hoisted one leg up onto the seat, and leaned back. The low cut of her tank top revealed the toned curve of her ribs and side.
"Well? What are you waiting for? Give me a plate."
"I'm getting it right now."
I reached into the cupboard for more dishware. We were running out of plates. Four would have been plenty, but with Yuri, that made five. Just then, a soft knock sounded at the front door. Not the chime of the bell, but a gentle tap on wood. Because the door had been left slightly ajar, someone was politely knocking instead of barging in.
It was Chaewon. Only Park Chaewon would knock on an open door.
"...Excuse me."
Chaewon stood in the doorway. Even on a weekend morning, she looked remarkably composed in an ivory knit sweater and black tailored slacks, her long, straight black hair swept over one shoulder. Yet exhaustion lined her face, punctuated by dark shadows under her eyes. She clearly hadn't slept well last night either. She scanned the three people around the island, her gaze pausing for a beat—a hesitation that clearly conveyed she had never met them before.
"Come on in, Chaewon-ssi."
"...It looks like you already have a full house."
"We're already over capacity, so one more won't make a difference."
Chaewon took a single step forward, then froze. "...Pardon me for asking, but is it really alright for me to join?"
"Everyone here lives in the building. You're our neighbor too, Chaewon-ssi."
"Ah."
Chaewon neatly slipped off her shoes. Seeing the sheer spread of food on the table, her eyes widened in mild surprise. "All this food..."
"I originally intended to eat alone, but I botched the portions."
It was a lie, of course. My subconscious had cooked enough for an army. But Chaewon wasn't one to pry into trivial excuses. She lingered by the counter, hesitating for another beat with the awkward posture of someone unsure of where they belonged. I pointed toward an empty spot at the far end. With a slight dip of her head, Chaewon took the seat.
"...I'm Park Chaewon. I live upstairs in unit 301. We haven't had many chances to run into each other." Her voice was low and measured, slipping into her composed lawyer cadence, though a slight delay betrayed her inner awkwardness at being among strangers.
"I'm Yoon Seojin, from unit 202. It's lovely to meet you," Seojin replied warmly, raising a gentle hand in greeting.
"Lee Haeun. 203." Haeun kept it brief, her eyes firmly fixed on the bacon. An introduction wrapped up in four syllables.
"And I'm Jeong Dain from 101! I'm an art student!" Dain raised her hand high and waved, her volume easily louder than the other two combined.
"...A pleasure." Chaewon looked at each of them once more, briefly matching their faces to their names before lowering her gaze to the tabletop.
Now, five people sat around the kitchen island: Seojin, Yuri, Dain, Haeun, and Chaewon. With me included, that made six. Since there were only four proper chairs, Dain had dragged over a wooden stool, while Yuri happily perched on Seojin's lap.
"Let's eat."
I began passing the plates around: toast, scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and fresh fruit. I poured coffee for Seojin, Dain, and Haeun, and warmed up a glass of milk for Yuri. Dain immediately took a huge bite of toast.
"Mmmph! This is incredible!"
Haeun sampled the scrambled eggs. "...Not bad. Pretty soft."
I placed a mug in front of Chaewon. Inside was warm water, not coffee. After all the late nights we had shared, I knew all too well how severely she struggled with insomnia. "You don't drink coffee, right, Chaewon-ssi? Here's some warm water."
Chaewon looked up at me briefly, a flicker of appreciation crossing her eyes at the fact that I had remembered. She cupped the warm mug with both hands. "...Thank you."
Yuri grabbed a strip of bacon with her bare fingers. "Mister's cooking is the absolute best!"
"Use your chopsticks, Yuri," Seojin scolded gently. Yuri merely giggled, chewing on the bacon, while Seojin dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin.
It was a proper Sunday morning spread. Sunlight poured through the glass, the rich scent of coffee hung in the air, and people ate, chatted, and laughed. The fact that such a lively scene was unfolding in my own living room still felt utterly surreal.
"Oppa, can I have another slice of toast?"
"Coming right up. Give me a minute."
"Hey, me too. More bacon."
"On it."
I stood up to prepare seconds, sliding more bread into the toaster and laying another batch of bacon onto the pan. Sizzle. Behind me, the hum of idle conversation drifted over.
"Seojin Unnie, Yuri's headband is so adorable~"
"Thanks, her grandmother bought it for her."
"Haeun Unnie, did you work out this early in the morning?"
"I do it every day. It's nothing special."
"Your arm muscles are insane. Why don't mine ever look like that?"
"Because your hands were made for painting."
Haeun's reply was surprisingly gentle. It caught me off guard. She was always far less prickly with Dain, treating her almost like a younger sister.
"Chaewon-ssi, what do you usually do on the weekends?" Seojin asked, deliberately drawing Chaewon into the fold after noticing her sitting in quiet contemplation.
"...Usually, I read. Sometimes I organize legal briefs."
"You work on the weekends too?"
"Lawyers don't really have weekends." Chaewon offered a faint, wry smile.
I returned to the counter bearing more toast and bacon, placing the toast before Dain and the bacon in front of Haeun. As Dain reached for her food, the sleeve of her oversized sweatshirt rode up, exposing her slender wrist. The hem lifted slightly as she moved, and once again, I hastily averted my gaze.
Haeun popped a piece of bacon into her mouth and stared directly at me. Our eyes locked.
"What are you looking at?"
"...The bacon."
"Liar." The corner of Haeun's mouth tugged upward into a smirk.
Seojin chimed in, "Siu-ssi, this really is delicious. It's so good I'd love to put it on the cafe's menu."
"You're flattering me."
"No, I truly mean it." Seojin smiled, her expression glowing with genuine warmth.
Yet Haeun's gaze drifted toward Seojin. Just for a fraction of a second. Then she dropped her eyes back to her plate. I didn't miss what lingered in that fleeting look: a sharp spark of wariness. A subtle, competitive edge whenever Seojin spoke to me with such intimacy. Seojin noticed it too. Her smile stiffened ever so slightly before relaxing back into natural grace. It was subtle, but impossible to ignore.
"Oppa, do you have any more avocado?" Dain asked, completely oblivious to the undercurrents.
"I'll give you the other half."
Chaewon remained silent, cradling her mug with both hands and taking slow, deliberate sips. But I could tell what she was doing. She was observing. With the razor-sharp scrutiny of an attorney, she tracked the subtle tension between Seojin and Haeun, Dain's carefree innocence, and me, standing right at the center of it all. Chaewon's eyes met mine for a fleeting instant before she set her mug down and quietly looked away.
"Yuri, do you want any more?"
"I'm full~" Yuri patted her round little tummy, cream cheese smeared across her chubby cheeks. Seojin chuckled softly, wiping it away with a napkin.
The meal was winding down.
"Ah, I'm stuffed. Eating like royalty thanks to you, Oppa."
"Make this every week," Haeun declared, her tone hovering somewhere between a joke and a serious demand.
"Every week?"
"Sunday brunch. Make it an official routine."
"Wait, what do you mean, an official routine—"
"I love that idea!" Dain piped up eagerly.
"...Of course, no pressure," Seojin added gently, though her words carried a quiet, deliberate weight of their own.
Chaewon remained quiet, her hands still wrapped around her mug.
"...I'll think about it." The answer slipped out noncommittally, neither a firm rejection nor a promise. Haeun let out a quiet scoff but didn't press the matter further.
The conversation naturally shifted to lighter topics. Dain polished off the final crust of her toast, Seojin cleaned Yuri's face, and Haeun drained the last of her coffee. The brunch proposal was left resting on the table, unresolved and untouched.
I began gathering the dishes to wash up. Seojin offered to help, and Haeun stood up as well. Dain took Yuri to the sofa to draw pictures, while Chaewon wiped down the counter. That left three of us crammed into the narrow kitchen space: me, Seojin, and Haeun.
I stood before the sink. Seojin positioned herself on my left with a drying cloth, while Haeun stood on my right to stack the clean dishes. As Seojin took a wet plate from me, our hands brushed. Just a brief contact, our fingertips grazing against each other. Her skin felt warm. The memory of Thursday night flashed through my mind. Two centimeters. Seojin looked up at me, our gazes meeting in a moment of quiet understanding. A faint pink dusted her cheeks.
Haeun caught it immediately.
"Hey." Haeun's voice came from right behind me. Without hesitation, she wedged her shoulder right into the narrow space between Seojin and me, nudging Seojin aside by a handspan. The maneuver was calculated—not overtly aggressive, but undeniably deliberate.
"What is it?"
"Aren't you going to hand over the plates? I'll take them from right here."
"Ah, sure."
Haeun planted herself firmly at my side, placing her body squarely between me and Seojin. Her bare shoulder brushed against mine, lingering a beat longer and standing far closer than necessary. "Hurry up. You're moving like a snail."
"...Right."
Seojin's expression hardened imperceptibly. She had seen Haeun's move clearly. Yet, acting as though nothing had happened, she continued drying the dishes with her towel from a step back. Cold sweat prickled along my spine as I washed the remaining bowls. The silent pressure radiating from both sides was soft, yet suffocatingly intense.
Eventually, the dishes were done. Seojin folded the drying towel neatly.
"Siu-ssi, thank you for today."
"Don't mention it."
"Yuri, let's head out. Say goodbye."
"Mister, the food was super yummy! I'll come back again!" Yuri waved cheerfully. Seojin scooped her up into her arms and walked toward the door. Just before stepping into the hall, she glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes locking onto mine. 'Next time,' she mouthed silently, before turning to leave.
Haeun stretched and stood up. "I'm heading out too. I've got a personal training session this afternoon."
"Have a good session."
Haeun walked to the entryway and slipped into her sneakers. She looked back. "Hey."
"Yes?"
"Hold the scallions next time. Seriously."
"...I didn't put any scallions in brunch."
"I mean for next time." With that, Haeun stepped out, the heavy front door clicking shut behind her.
Dain rose from the couch. "Oppa, I should get going too. I have an art project deadline this afternoon."
"Good luck with it."
"And about the brunch thing... seriously, no pressure! I just meant it'd be really fun to do it again sometime." Dain offered the clarification with a bashful grin, stepping back from the initial enthusiasm so as not to burden me. A tactical retreat, making sure I wouldn't feel cornered.
"...I'll consider it."
"Okay!" Dain bounced out the door.
Only Chaewon remained. She sat quietly before the kitchen island, hands still curled around the empty mug, unwilling to let go of the residual warmth.
"Chaewon-ssi, would you like some more warm water?"
"No, I'm fine."
A brief silence settled over the room.
"Siu-ssi."
"Yes?"
"These women... I think they all like you."
My hands froze mid-wring on the dishcloth. "...What do you mean by that?"
"Just... stating what I see." Chaewon finally set the empty mug down and stood up. "I'm sorry if I was intruding."
"You weren't intruding at all."
"I enjoyed the food... It was very good." Chaewon walked to the front door and slipped into her shoes. She paused, looking back one last time. "Siu-ssi."
"Yes?"
"Take care... of yourself."
For some reason, her farewell sounded heavy—less like a casual goodbye and more like an expression of sympathy. Chaewon had seen right through it all: the quiet rivalry between Seojin and Haeun, Dain's innocent affection, and me, standing right in the middle, playing dumb. The door clicked shut as Chaewon departed.
I was alone again. The kitchen island where six plates had rested was now wiped clean. Only the faint aroma of roasted coffee lingered in the air. Sinking onto the sofa, I stared up at the ceiling.
Seojin's warm, gentle smile. Haeun saying, 'Make this every week,' as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Dain beaming, 'Eating like royalty thanks to you, Oppa.' And Chaewon's quiet observation: 'I think they all like you.'
Four women. Four different tones. Four different distances. All gathered around a single dining table.
The subtle tension between Seojin and Haeun. Dain's innocent, unbothered cheerfulness. Chaewon's cool, analytical gaze. The brief touch of Seojin's fingers as I handed her a plate. What was visible beneath Dain's loose sweatshirt. The bare curve of Haeun's shoulders in that tank top. The faint outline of Seojin's bra beneath her knit sweater...
...What on earth were you looking at during breakfast, Han Siu?
Still, I had seen it all. Every bit of it. I was an ordinary man, after all, and every single one of these women was breathtakingly attractive. But the real problem was what came next. With Seojin, I had come within two centimeters of a kiss. With Haeun, she had practically teased me draped in nothing but a bath towel. Dain knew my secret identity as Siru, caught in a tangle between fangirl admiration and romantic interest. And Chaewon had fallen asleep right beside me in complete, peaceful vulnerability.
What was this even turning into?
"What is this turning into...?" I muttered aloud to the empty room. No answer came, only the silent air carrying the dying scent of coffee.
I pushed myself off the sofa, walked over to the kitchen, and pulled open the refrigerator. Nobody had made any concrete plans to gather again next Sunday. Haeun's demand had sounded half like a joke, Seojin had softly insisted there was no pressure, Dain had backed off before she left, and Chaewon hadn't weighed in at all. Yet here I was, peering into the fridge, already turning menu ideas over in my mind.
Seojin preferred Korean comfort food. Haeun needed high-protein dishes. Dain would happily devour anything placed in front of her. Chaewon favored mild, non-irritating flavors. And Yuri loved sweet treats. Without even realizing it, the distinct preferences of all five people flashed through my head—even though not a single promise had been made.
"I've completely lost my mind."
I shut the refrigerator door, returned to the sofa, and collapsed back against the cushions, staring blankly at the ceiling.
A Sunday morning table. Six plates. Five distinct smiles. Two women marking their territory. One woman quietly observing. One girl full of pure innocence. And one utterly bewildered man.
What on earth are you getting yourself into, Han Siu? It felt as though the real story hadn't even begun, yet the table was already brimming to the edge.
