Hostage Handbook

Chapter Twenty-Six | Am I Strange

JUNGKOOK

I prepone my lunch break to cook chicken porridge for Yeoreum. Yeoreum is picky with porridges and vegetables, but I want to make something her stressed health could easily digest. I add an extra cup of chicken broth into the pot and stir the spatula in a circular motion. The vegetables seethe against the broth-drenched rice grains with a boiling noise.

I have never been an eager cook. It feels like a waste of time to invest over thirty minutes on something that'll be consumed in less than ten minutes. That translates to a loss in the business world. However, I almost regret not having cooked enough in the past now, with the anxiety of Yeoreum not liking my cooking hammering a violent tremor through my hands.

I carry the tray that contains a small bowl of porridge and a compartment plate filled with Yeoreum's favourite kimchis upstairs. Yeoreum's eyes grow wide as she watches me place the tray on the wooden table she normally uses for her papercraft projects. I hope she's surprised in a pleasant way.

"Thank you," Yeoreum says as she reaches for the spoon.

"Sick people should be cared for in every aspect. You should respect that rule, Yeoreumie." I easily take the spoon out of her hand. "I'll feed you your medications after I feed you lunch. Then, I'll take your temperature to see if your fever is going down."

I feed Yeoreum one spoonful of porridge with some kimchi. Yeoreum is a little awkward at first, even though we have fed each other countless times (with spoons, lips, and other more private parts of our bodies), but she eventually relaxes her rigid muscles to allow me to feed her bigger bites.

"My cooking skills are average, but I wanted to do something for you. Does it taste okay?"

Yeoreum swallows the porridge in her mouth, and the tense corners of her lips reveal her discomfort. Perhaps I should be thankful she isn't spitting it into my face. She seems to not like the fact that I cooked the porridge for her instead of Ms Kim. She rubs a tissue across her mouth—one wipe to the right, one wipe back to the left—making sure not a speck of the food contaminated by my efforts lingers on her mouth.

"When are you going to send me to Fever Moon?" Yeoreum says in a voice that borders a command.

"Don't worry." I draw a spoonful of porridge next to her mouth. "I've written it in my bullet journal, so it should happen soon."

"I'm full."

Yeoreum chugs two pills with the glass of water I drank from on her bedside table. Of course, she doesn't know it's my drinking glass.

"But you only ate half of the porridge. Is it that bad?" I carefully savour the flavour of the porridge. "It tastes okay to me?"

Yeoreum lies down like she didn't hear a word I said. I push the wooden table to the side and sit beside her on the bed.

"Do you have anything you want to eat? Shall I get Mrs Kim to organise a hot pot?" I say. I place the thermometer in her ear and wait for the beep to emerge. "Looks like your temperature is going down very slowly. Do you feel like having something sweet? I can bake you some cookies if you'd like."

Yeoreum shuts her eyes and inches away from me, making it obvious that she wants to ignore me.

"Are you feeling drowsy already?" I cock my head with a smile even though I know she can't see me. "Okay, let's tuck you in bed then. Do you want me to sing you a lullaby or pat you to sleep? Which one do you want, Yeoreum?"

Yeoreum emits a quiet snore she has perfected to sound realistic. I lie beside Yeoreum to clasp her hands that are awkwardly folded in front of her stomach.