Room 2129 (A 2yeon Fanfic)

Chapter 13: Jeongyeon

"Huh...you actually managed to get good ones," Nayeon says as she eyes the cabbage from the bag.

"Of course. I told you I would," I remark proudly. She puffs up her cheeks and shakes her head at me. Where does she get the audacity to think she's cute?

"Okay, since you did a good job, I'll let you choose: what do you want to eat? I'll make it for you," she tells me. No one has asked me this since I could remember. Maybe it was mom or Seungyeon, I can't recall.

Nayeon stops sorting the groceries and stares at me, her bare shoulder accentuated by the light as she leans against the dining table. "Come to think of it, I don't know what your favorite dish is," she states.

"Can you make...filet mignon?" I'm just working at the top of my head right now.

She narrows her eyes in confusion. "Fi-fee-le...minyeon? What's that?"

I try to contain my laughter. This hick is so uncultured, it's cute. "Here," I say, showing her a picture of fillet steak on my phone before bursting into a series of chuckles.

Nayeon's smile drops. "I'm being serious," she exclaims as she slaps my arm so hard my phone almost falls off. Seriously, does she wrestle with cattle?!

We both stare at each other in surprise. Suddenly, she bursts into laughter; her mouth fully open. It's so contagious that she manages to get a chuckle out of me, too.

She goes back to sorting out the groceries. "Seriously, what is it?"

"It's..." I hesitate. She turns again towards me, with a faint smile. "It's tteokbokki," I say, slightly embarrassed. The daughter of a premier chef enjoys street food? Nayeon's probably ridiculing me now.

Her face lights up, as she looks at the various ingredients. "Okay, now that I can do for you," she says cheerfully. "I'll call you once it's ready."

"Need any help?"

"No, you can just paint or something if you'd like."

***

Inside the room, I look at the arm Nayeon hit earlier. Wow, it really left a mark, huh? I rub it with my hand and, suddenly, my gaze lingers at it. My thoughts go back to the car, with her hand on top of mine—how her long fingers warmly wrapped around my knuckles. How are they like that even if the car's air conditioning was practically freezing?

Come to think of it, I haven't painted anything since Seulgi left. I stare at the pile of canvases on the corner of the living room. Do I want to paint, though? Maybe tomorrow.

I just sit by the dining table, and watch if Nayeon tries anything funny with the dish. She tries to reach the boiling pot at the top of the cupboard, baring her mildly toned arms and very fair armpits that go well with her complexion. Why do I have the sudden urge to feel them?

Don't do it, Yoo Jeongyeon.

"Here, I'll get it." I plant my hand on her shoulder. She freezes as I palm her forehead, opening the top cupboard.

Stop it.

She turns around to face me. I stare down at her, this doe-eyed little bunny mere inches away from me, her apron blocking the soft sheer dress. I zone in on her neck, a trail of sweat dribbles down to her collarbone.

"What are you doing?"

What am I doing?

I back away from her, setting the pot onto the counter. "Nothing, just made sure your wide forehead didn't get hit. You're welcome."