DYMD 18

chapter 18

Left alone, Yeon-ha hesitated before reluctantly beginning to look around the house.

It was the same size, the same layout as hers, yet his place looked much more spacious because it had so little furniture.

Still, there was an emptiness to it. It felt temporary, like a guesthouse set up to be left behind at any moment.

When she glanced toward the bedroom beyond the threshold, a single bed stood there, filling the space all by itself.

Just then, his voice called from the kitchen.

“Dinner’s ready. Please come.”

When Yeon-ha entered the kitchen, a neatly prepared table was waiting for her.

A salad of tomatoes and arugula topped with grilled cheese.

And galbi-jjim, japchae, and radish wraps—the very dishes she had mentioned a few days ago.

Yeon-ha’s eyes widened in surprise as she looked at him.

“What is all this?”

“I tried making the dishes you talked about, Team Leader. How is it? I’m not sure if it’s any good—it’s my first time trying.”

“You really made this yourself, Do-hyun?”

“I told you, didn’t I? I don’t like takeout.”

Yeon-ha couldn’t close her mouth in shock.

These were all time-consuming dishes that even people who cook regularly hesitate to attempt.

Yet he, who had lived abroad and probably had never seen these recipes before, had managed to make them all himself? It was hard to believe.

“Is cooking a hobby of yours?”

“Not really… I just lived alone for so long that I got used to following recipes.”

“Still, galbi-jjim or japchae isn’t exactly easy.”

“The galbi-jjim only took some time to soak the blood out of the meat. Other than that, it was simpler than I thought.”

Yeon-ha stared at him in wonder as he spoke so casually.

She herself was hopeless at cooking—she always failed even when following recipes exactly.

“Enough questions, sit down. It won’t taste good once it gets cold.”

He pulled out a chair for her.

Maybe it was because he had lived overseas, but his natural manners seemed ingrained.

When she sat down, Do-hyun circled to the opposite seat and brought out a bottle of wine.

“Wine okay with you?”

Yeon-ha nodded.

She wasn’t much of a drinker, but she sometimes enjoyed wines or champagnes that complemented a meal.

He deftly uncorked the bottle and poured her glass first, then his own. Lifting his glass, he said,

“Shall we toast?”

As she raised her glass, their eyes met.

His dark pupils drew her in deeply.

Her throat suddenly felt dry, and she swallowed hard.

She could feel his gaze linger on her throat.

Her ears burned as if he had caught her nervousness.

“Let’s get along well from now on.”

She wanted to ask what he meant by that, but didn’t.

Their glasses clinked softly with a ching.

The red wine in the clear glass rippled gently.

Without breaking eye contact, he raised his glass to his lips.

Yeon-ha tried to ignore his stare as she took a sip herself. The tart, sharp flavor spread across her tongue.

Carefully, she served herself some galbi-jjim, shredded the meat with her fork, and tasted it.

The meat was tender, melting in her mouth almost without chewing.

“How is it? Do you like it?”

“Yes. It’s really delicious.”

She had taken her first bite with little expectation, since he had said it was his first attempt—but the flavor surprised her.

“I’m glad it suits your taste. I’ll cook for you often.”

At those words, the meat caught in her throat.

Yeon-ha nearly choked and hurriedly gulped down wine.

Thankfully, the blockage went down.

As she caught her breath and set down her empty glass, Do-hyun asked in concern,

“Team Leader, are you okay?”

“Y-yes, I’m fine.”

“Was the meat undercooked?”

“No. I just swallowed too quickly.”

She couldn’t bring herself to admit that she had been flustered by his casual offer to cook for her often.

He had probably said it without much thought, yet she was the one attaching meaning to it.

“Chew slowly.”

His gentle tone made her wonder why, though he was four years younger, he felt more like an older brother.

Trying to hide her burning ears, Yeon-ha focused on eating.

The bell peppers in the japchae were crisp, and the radish wraps, filled with various vegetables, were as colorful as they were flavorful.

The mustard sauce matched them perfectly.

Even though she wasn’t hungry, her chopsticks kept moving.

As she ate, she suddenly realized how quiet the living room was. Looking up, she saw him resting his chin on his interlocked hands, watching her silently.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“I’m full just watching you.”

He smiled faintly, like an adult amused by a child.

Only then did Yeon-ha realize she had been eating too much without noticing.

She had always thought of herself as not greedy with food, but maybe she was wrong.

Embarrassed, she lifted her glass of wine.

“Drink slowly, or you’ll get drunk.”

She knew what he was worried about—that she might get drunk again, like that night.

She wasn’t a heavy drinker, but she wasn’t weak either.

That one-night stand with him had not been because of alcohol—it had been because of Son Kyung-jin.

Yeon-ha defiantly finished her glass of wine and set the empty glass before him. One of his eyebrows arched.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Don’t worry. I’m not so weak that two glasses of wine will knock me out.”

After studying her expression, he seemed satisfied and refilled her glass.

“There’s something I’ve been curious about.”

“What is it?”

His eyes brightened, as though pleased by her interest.

“I heard you’re from Australia. Did you immigrate there?”

“No, I grew up there.”

“Really? Your Korean is so good, I thought you must have moved there later.”

She hadn’t expected him to have grown up in Australia. His pronunciation was more precise than that of many native Koreans.

“My parents wanted me to never forget my roots, so they taught me diligently since I was little.”

“They sound like wonderful parents.”

“They are. I’m always grateful I grew up as their child.”

Thinking of his parents in Australia, his expression grew wistful.

When his gentle eyes curved with a smile, Yeon-ha’s face warmed as well.

It must be the wine, she told herself.

She set down her glass, took a sip of water, and tried to regain composure.

When dinner was over, she offered to help with the dishes, but he asked her to make coffee instead as he rolled up his sleeves.

She hadn’t planned to stay long enough for coffee, but she couldn’t refuse his request and quietly moved to the coffee machine.

As the capsule brewed, the rich aroma filled the kitchen.

When the coffee was done, he finished the dishes and sat across from her.

Yeon-ha lifted her mug gratefully.

“Thank you for the meal. It was really wonderful.”

“If there’s anything you want to eat, just tell me anytime. I’ll make it again.”

Again. Earlier, and now too.

Was this man in the habit of offering to cook for women? How many had fallen for it?

Handsome and a good cook—what woman wouldn’t be drawn to that?

Feeling her guard rise, Yeon-ha decided she should finish her coffee quickly and leave.

But the coffee was so hot she nearly burned her lips. She flinched, and the liquid sloshed dangerously.

“Take your time. I won’t bite.”

He spoke with a teasing smile, and her heart sank as if he had read her thoughts.

Though he was four years younger, his calm, confident tone was infuriatingly disarming.

Feeling as though she were losing, she said something she normally never would.

“Sorry, but you’re not my type, Do-hyun.”

“You seemed to enjoy yourself just fine last time. More than once, in fact.”

His face didn’t change as he threw her words back at her, and suddenly the memory of that night flooded back, her cheeks blazing.

She had known from the start he wasn’t someone to take lightly—but now she was certain.

“My tastes aren’t that picky.”

When she replied offhandedly, his thick brows twitched.

“So you’re saying you didn’t enjoy it—it was just there, so you went along?”

“Would’ve been a waste to throw it out.”

For a moment, silence fell over his face.

Then he let out a half-laugh, half-sigh toward the ceiling, as though she had landed a solid blow.

Just as she was savoring her small victory, he fixed her with a gaze that revealed nothing.

“You don’t realize, do you?”

“…Realize what?”

“That what you just said… only makes a man’s competitive spirit burn hotter.”