deshita | y.ji

two.

Jeongin could not remember a time when he was so short that he wasn't able to take up the whole couch by simply laying down. He has grown so much since his younger years; his height sprouted like no tomorrow just a year back, making the both of you eye-to-eye, and possibly making him taller than you if he continues to grow.

He occupies the entire couch now, sometimes even leaving no space for you. There was some joy in that. The ample space that existed before had left no casual chance for him to stay closer to you. It would have been weird if he chose to keep in contact with you when there were other spaces for him to linger around. But now—now he could joke about it. He could laugh, throw his arms around you or kick your shin, and tell you he needed more space to sit.

Peeking over his phone, which he was using to act as if he did not want to indulge in your Valentine's Day activity, he watched as you tightened the apron knot behind you and rolled up your sleeves, getting ready to try your hand at making chocolate bars so you could give them to Hyunjin on Monday.

He had opposed the idea at first. When you suggested hand-making chocolate bars as your valentine gift, the instinctive response he gave you was a frown and a noise of disagreement. Given the time and location when you told him about it, which was in a shopping mall on a leisure Saturday afternoon, Jeongin thought why not simply head toward the supermarket and stroll down the snack column for some decent chocolate? He would even wrap them up nicely for you, he had proposed, but you had insisted on the sincerity of handmade chocolate, and now you're both here.

Removing his eyes away from you with a scoff (he was not too happy about the effort you were willing to put in for Hyunjin), he returned to the phone screen and continued to scroll the internet. He was researching what you told him on Saturday about the button exchange custom in Japan. He did not think he would think twice about it, but it suddenly came to him at night when he was just about to fall asleep and he remembered how romantic you had thought it was.

Jeongin could not wipe your beaming face from his mind if he tortured himself—always so bright and expectant that even the capacity of his endearment could not handle with ease. If that trivial custom could get you so excited then he ought to learn about it. Even if he ends up thinking it is stupid or pointless, as long as it satiates his hunger to see you happy.

"Hey! Yang Jeongin!"

"Don't call me by my full name!" Jeongin complained as he grabbed the cushion behind his head and threw it toward you who stood behind the kitchen counter.

You deadpanned at him briefly, then you pointed at the cushion on the floor. "Pick that back up," you said, to which Jeongin pulled a face at before you changed the subject. "Do you have cocoa powder?"

"We bought cocoa powder yesterday," he hummed as he stood up and moved lazily across the floor.

He picked up the cushion on the ground and hugged it to himself as he watched you shift through the plastic bag on the kitchen counter. He rolled his eyes when you fished out the small box of cocoa powder; you were going to make chocolate bars but you have no ingredients laid out at all. Moving closer to you, he peered at your phone screen with concentrated eyes, reading the ingredients and steps and glancing up periodically to see if he could help.

"Honey... vanilla extracts..." He muttered to himself as he moved around your kitchen, opening cabinets and pulling things out.

You brushed past him with utensils in your hands, setting them down on the kitchen counter before sucking in a breath and turning to him. Jeongin eyed you when he felt the presence of your gaze, and you frowned. "Do you have coconut oil?"

He tilted his head to the side, then he turned around to look at the bag of goods you two got from the supermarket in hopes to find what you wanted. It was empty, unfortunately, and weirdly; you two bought the ingredients based on a recipe, how did you manage to miss something? Scratching the back of his head, he gave you a shrug and headed back to the living room. "I'll go see."