Ambrosial | Jikook

Amaretto

A bittersweet almond-flavored liqueur.

The rice cakes are already kneaded, cut and ready to fry, the vegetable oil is hissing, and from time-to-time little pops appear here and there on the oily surface. Before starting the cooking, he passes a napkin to remove the oil excess, making sure to leave the entire surface covered only with a thin layer of oil, nobody likes greasy cakes Jimin-ah, he remembers his mother saying that accompanied by a warm smile. After making sure that it was simmering, he proceeded to deposit the cakes one by one on the pan, each of the cakes was accompanied by small burst sounds when they met the hot oil. This was the third round of Hwajeon of the day and he couldn't help but think that the third was the charm.

Jimin is a pastry chef—a good one—but lately, he was trying to add new recipes to the bakery and his attempts were failing miserably. The thing is that among packs the information travels slowly and diffusely, each one guarding their knowledge from prying eyes, and even though he had asked the pack alpha for new recipe books, he still couldn't find the perfect recipe.

Once the bases of the cakes were slightly crunchy, he quickly turned them over and finished crushing them with the spatula, to obtain perfect flattened circles. So far, the cakes looked good, so Jimin was gaining confidence in this new recipe. After a few minutes, when the cakes were completely cooked, he proceeded to delicately place the edible flowers—azaleas, chrysanthemums, and pear blossoms—on the surface of the cakes, then carefully turned them over with the spatula and pressed them for a few seconds until he was sure that the flowers were fixed.

As soon as he finished arranging the Hwajeon on trays, Jimin made sure to leave a note so that Tae would remember to sprinkle the sweet syrup on the cakes before putting them up for sale. He also decided to make a mental note to tell Tae that apparently the trick to getting fluffy and light Hwajeon was to make sure the dough was well moistened and covered while cutting the circles so it wouldn't dry out. If someone had told him so, he would have saved himself two failed attempts and a headache, but well, at least now they had a new recipe to add to the cookbook.

It was already dark, close to midnight if the silence that surrounds the bakery tells him something. He can feel the coldness and loneliness climbing up his back and making their way to his bones, the ugly and bitter thoughts he tried so hard to drive away are also here, making it difficult not to wander into them.

A week has passed, seven days have come and gone since his heart was once again let down by an alpha. He knows that the whole thing isn't worth his sadness, that he is not the one at fault, but nights like this make him feel inadequate and lonely over and over again. He was picking up the dirty bowls and whisk bars when he remembered how happy he had been when it was obvious that he would be a beta.

He was so naive, so clueless.

When Jimin was old enough to understand the difference between alphas, betas, and omegas, he had internally wished he didn't end up presenting as an omega, because even though thanks to his two omega parents he knew how capable, strong, and kind they were, he didn't feel cut out for mating cycles that they had to endure monthly. And on the other hand, there were the alphas, whom he had never been fond of, so it was not strange that he didn't want to be one of them either.

On his 20th birthday, when it had been a long time since all his friends had presented, he and his parents went to consult the silver elder about his status, she had held his chin with long, cold, and grayish-white fingers.

"A beta, no doubt he's a beta," she had stammered to herself as her intense glassy gaze swept across Jimin's face.

"Are you sure? but his scent is so sweet, can't he be a late bloomer?". Jimin heard his omega Eomma ask.