𝐌𝐫. 𝐊𝐢𝐦

13

As you finish adding seasoning and the finishing touches to the Kimchi Stew, a smile forms on your lips as you hear light footsteps behind you.

"Mhm... smells good," Namjoon groans, peering over your shoulder as the scent of his body wash and aftershave fills your nostrils. His minty breath slapping against your right cheek causes you to flush. "I can't wait to try it," he says before stepping back with a grin.

Clearing your throat, you turn off the stove and prepare to set the pot down on the table. "You can take a seat. I'll bring it over," you say until he holds out his hand to stop you.

"No I got this," he says as his hands respectively make it down to your waist. You freeze in your spot, withstanding the heat crawling its way to your face and neck. "I'll take care of this since you cooked."

Feeling starved, impatient, and too exhausted to argue, you do as told. When you're sat down on one of the dining chairs, you watch him work from afar as he rolls the sleeves of his comfortable hoodie, giving you a view of his large hands. His hair is damp and pointing in various directions. Only now do you notice he's wearing round reading glasses, which complement his nose and fuller lips.

He doesn't notice your tantalizing gaze, instead hurriedly retrieving bowls and utensils from the cabinets. And just as you were about to stand up from your seat, he emerges with everything in his hands except for the boiling pot. He places a bowl, a spoon, and chopsticks in front of you before retreating with the dish.

You mumble a soft "thank you" and wait for him to take the seat across the enormous table. It's a little strange sitting quietly in his dining room, which can probably fit your entire house, but this isn't your first time here. You're used to being in his company, whether in a professional or casual setting. The silence is broken by the sound of ceramics clinking against each other.

"Shall we dig in?" Namjoon gapes at you with excitement in his eyes. You nod your head, equally pleased to see his reaction.

"I hope you like it," you say as he fills your bowl with some soup.

"I'm sure I'll like everything you cook, Y/N." He insists. Your face is already flushed as a result of his words.

"I'm not quite confident."

"How come?" he asks, cocking his brow as he finishes serving your bowl with the stew. You smile at him as you take it.

"It's a simple dish, but this is the first time I've cooked it," you explain, and he laughs, making you frown as if he's mocking you. "Hey! Don't laugh... if you don't like it, I can cook something el-"

"Absolutely not. This is amazing, Y/N." He asserts, gazing at you through his lashes.

You pause from taking another bite of your dish and exhale a sigh of relief. "I'm glad you like it," you say, grinning like a child. "It's a recipe from my dad."