TSWKM 13

Chapter 13

By the time I was working on the sixth flowerpot, I felt someone’s eyes on me.

What is it?

I turned back and met eyes with Hayden, who was lying down but awake, staring at me.

“…If I drop this flowerpot from surprise, will you clean it up?”

“If I’m here, do you think you would have to clean it, Suilen?”

“It’s my mistake, so of course I should clean it. Though I’d be cursing you in my head while doing it.”

Hayden stretched his arms wide, his stiff bones cracking loudly.

“What time is it now?”

I took off my soil-stained arm sleeves, apron, and gloves, packed them neatly into the work box, and only then checked my watch.

“You slept about two and a half hours. If you’re awake, let’s go eat.”

“I’ll just sleep another thirty minutes.”

So, the man who once said sleep was a waste of time because of all the work now thinks even eating is a waste?

“Come on, let’s go. I don’t like eating alone.”

“…Ha.”

“If you skip breakfast, it’ll hurt your health.”

Of course, I meant my health.

Hayden pushed himself up by the desk, then looked down at the floor in surprise.

“Suilen. This…?”

He was holding my coat.

“I don’t know. Didn’t you grab it because you were cold?”

I replied indifferently, and he chuckled.

With his drowsy expression, that laugh carried no sense of distance or walls at all. He felt so different from the Hayden in my memories that he seemed almost like a stranger.
And every time he felt unfamiliar, I was reminded all over again that I had come back to the past.

He noticed me staring and brushed his chin.

“What is it?”

I turned away and slid my rings back onto my fingers.

“Nothing. Do you know any restaurants open right now?”

“I do.”

“Is the food good?”

“I’ve never been inside. But two alleys down there’s a restaurant…”

“Oh, Gordian Street? If it’s there, everything’s good. You don’t get to open a place there unless you’ve proven yourself.”

“…You know that?”

“Just that one place.”

He held out my coat to me as he let out a big yawn.

I slipped my arms into it, hiding my laugh.

“You’re that sleepy?”

“I haven’t slept much these last few days.”

This was the same man who once pulled two all-nighters without showing any signs of fatigue. Just how much work had piled up on him?
I wanted to ask, but if I did, I might start pitying him—and that, I refused.

***

The table for four was piled with food.

Hayden stuffed a huge piece of meat into his mouth, then tilted his head slightly.

“Are you dieting?”

“I always take care of myself.”

I nibbled delicately at a muffin the size of an orange.

Steak, grilled fish with lemon, bread filled with roasted fruit, four small muffins, two drinks… Out of all that, my order was just one coffee and one muffin.

So of course we were shocked at each other’s eating habits.

“You don’t need to hold back in front of me.”

“I’m not pretending. I just can’t eat much in the morning.”

“But you said you wanted to eat. I thought you were really hungry.”

“I was hungry. But this is enough for me right now.”

I’d heard he had a big appetite, but I didn’t think he’d eat this much first thing in the morning.

And maybe he thought my small portion was strange too, because he pushed a slice of bread topped with roasted orange and pineapple toward me.

“Then at least eat this.”

“…Weren’t you the one who said you’d rather sleep another 30 minutes than eat?”

“When it’s time to eat, I eat.”

I accepted the bread from him, and he turned back to his meal.

As I chewed the roasted fruit with effort, I watched his fork moving quickly.
So this is the man who once skipped meals to work, claiming sleep was more valuable than food?
So foolish.

“I’m eating it because you gave it to me, but I don’t like this kind of thing.”

He cut his food with a graceful hand, then glanced at me.

“You’re not picky about food.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s roasted fruit.”

“Those fruits taste better roasted. …Still, that was my mistake. I didn’t know.”

But his eyes told another story, like he was suspicious that I just didn’t want to eat what he gave me.

That look almost made me laugh.

“Three years working together, and you don’t even know that much?”

“How would I? We’ve never eaten together. And you once said that being with me ruined your appetite.”

“…Wow. That was ages ago—”

More than ten years ago.

When I scowled, he chuckled dryly.

“A month ago isn’t exactly ancient history.”

“……”

Caught off guard, I fell silent. He just shook his head and focused on his fish, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing.

But I didn’t let go, teasing him further.

“You should at least try to defend yourself more. It makes me sad. After all, we’ve been together for a long time.”

“…Are you picking a fight during breakfast?”

Sunlight poured through the window, cutting across his hair and left eye in a golden stripe.

“I’m really sad. Because I know all about what you like and dislike.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course. Want me to prove it?”

“……”

We locked eyes, daring each other.
He set his fork down, inviting me to continue. I gently placed my teacup aside.

Clink.

“You eat all kinds of meat, but your favorites are beef and chicken. You never eat raw fish. Right?”

He raised his brows, impressed, and nodded.

I leaned my chin on my hand, watching his eyes widen.

“You hate raw onions and mushrooms. You enjoy Bernsan Black Wine, but never drink more than two glasses of whiskey, no matter how it’s served. You won’t eat chicken skin, but you like pork skin. And you always eat fruit with the peel.”

“What?”

“You can’t handle food that’s too hot, and you dislike grapes and cucumbers because of the smell. Anything overly bitter or salty, you avoid. But you actually have quite a sweet tooth.”

He stared at me, stunned.

“How do you know all that?”

“I told you. I know everything. Three years together.”

The truth was, even after ten years I wouldn’t have known these things by myself.
But Blier, every time she spoke with me, would ramble on about Hayden—his preferences, his habits. Eventually, I memorized it all without meaning to.
And now I was using that against him.

He looked at me in amazement, and I raised my chin proudly.

“Well?”

“…Ahem. I see. Perhaps I’ve been too careless. No wonder you felt slighted.”

“You’re just too inattentive.”

I hid my grin behind a sip of coffee. Hayden, flustered, began picking every bit of fruit off his bread. That clumsy action made me laugh again.

***

When the restaurant door opened, the bell above it jingled.

A strong morning wind blew in.

My hair scattered across my chest, and Hayden murmured quietly:

“It’s chilly.”

Chilly?
This man, who sweated in summer but was unfazed by cold?

I gave him a puzzled look. His eyes dropped—not to my face, but to my hand clutching my thin coat closed.

“Are you cold?”

“The wind is just… Why?”

Instead of answering, Hayden took off his cloak and draped it over my shoulders.

Was he still bothered about what happened at breakfast?

That uncharacteristic kindness embarrassed him; he quickly stepped back.

“Keep it on.”

“……?”

What surprised me even more was the scent clinging to his wrist as it brushed past me.
Strange. He usually wore heavy agarwood perfume.
But this was the fragrance of bath salts nobles used in their baths.

He must have noticed my expression, because he glanced down at himself.

“I’m not cold.”

He hurried his pace as if worried I’d give the cloak back.

And indeed, he didn’t look cold—he had even unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt while standing in the shade.

Only then did I notice his polished shoes and neat accessories.
He always wore stiff uniforms even when working long hours on his feet. Wasn’t that uncomfortable?

“…Well, it’s not like I could ever really know what goes on inside him.”

I dismissed my idle curiosity and caught up with him.

While I preferred quiet neighborhoods, Hayden led us into the bustling main street.

The smell of fresh fruit, smoke from chimneys, and the noisy crowd all blended together until, for a moment, I felt dizzy.