Carpe Noctem

Chapter 3

Jeong Hyeok realizes as he prepares ramyeon at six in the morning that he made a good call to stock up on food to last until Tuesday. He initially thought that most of it is going to end up discarded when he leaves. But with Se Ri staying over, he is relieved that he has more than enough ingredients to work with.

He has always enjoyed cooking. When he was still in grade school, he often watched his mother go through the trouble of whipping up a full course meal for dinner. He learned the basics through observation, then he began to harness his skills on his own as he grew up. Knowing his way in the kitchen was a necessity for survival during his college years at his dormitory in Basel, and it became a reliable plus factor in impressing the ladies.

In the case of Se Ri, he aspires to accomplish both: to ensure that she doesn’t perish in hunger while she’s in his house, and to sweep her off her feet with sumptuous meals. And the moment he feels a pair of slender arms wounding around his torso from behind, he is nearly a hundred percent positive that his efforts aren’t going to end up being futile.

“Good morning,” she grumbles as she buries her face in his back, her alto lower and rougher than usual. “Almost done?”

“Almost,” he promises her while kneading the dough. “How was your sleep?”

She yawns, then says, “It was comfortable. Thank you.”

He turns to the side to look at her, but she is quick to step back and cover her mouth with the back of her hand. Her reaction leaves him confused.

“What?” he asks.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet,” she protests. “I’ll be back in two minutes.”

True to her word, she emerges from the bathroom shortly after and rejoins him in the kitchen. She comes just as he switches the stove on, and she wastes no time hugging him from behind again. Then, he turns to face her and pulls her flush against his body.

“What can I do to help?” she offers.

“Can you cut the vegetables?” he asks.

She nods, then cautions him, “You have to show me how to do it once, though. And then, I can take it from there.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Absolutely.”

For a while, he looks at her—skeptical. And it’s not because he doesn’t trust her to do the job right, but because he wants to be the one taking care of her.

“Come on. I deserve to have a little more faith than you give me credit for,” she complains when she senses his reluctance.

“You see, all of my exes told me that I’m not housewife material—you know, the caring-thoughtful-obedient stereotype most people back home expect women to be when they get married. Although I can be one, if that’s what I aspired to be,” she elaborates with an eyeroll. “But it would need time, devotion, love… too much effort is required. And that is why I have a high regard for those who have chosen to be a homemaker and find joy in it.”

Then, she heaves out a labored exhale as she ponders, “It would be nice to play the part for once.”

“Never say never,” he reminds her.

“Not a chance in this lifetime,” she quickly objects. “Besides, my hands are already full with the company and my personal issues.”

“Anyhow...” she states the word with a kittenish drawl as she stares up at him through her lashes. “Maybe I can try to be someone else’s missus just for today. It can’t be that difficult, right?”