𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ✓

Chapter 5

HIS eye fluttered open soon after the mysterious, delicious smell sneaked its way into his room. He sat up straight on the bed, glancing around the room with baffled, exhausted eyes.

That smell...

He smiled, getting up from the bed, then making his way out of the room without sparing a second glance at the bed in the center of the room.

The smell of delicious food.

He wanted to know what that unfamiliar scent was. Was someone cooking? Did his wife order food?

Most importantly, what time was it?

He made his way through the hall and down the stairs, towards the living room. Immediately looking at the analog clock on the wall, which was right above the couch, his eyes widened as soon as he realized it.

It was around two o'clock in the afternoon.

He ran a hand through his soft, almost messy hair.

Did he sleep that long?

He approached the kitchen in quick steps, glancing inside the room as soon as he got the chance.

And he spotted his wife standing by the stove, watching a pot being cooked on the shiny red flame. He took a few steps and waved at her with a smile.

"Good morning!" He greeted in a soft, raspy voice.

He could've sworn he saw the ghost of a soft smile creeping over her face before she turned to him, eyeing his figure and taking in his handsomeness. She sent him a swift nod.

"Morning," she replied in a monotone voice before turning her attention to the pot.

"What are you cooking?" He asked in English, taking more slow steps toward her.

"Grape leaves." It took her a few short moments before replying.

He nodded, deciding not to push answers out of her further. He sat down on the stool near the kitchen island and continued to stare at her figure.

Her long, brown hair flowed down her back, stopping just at her hips. Her attractive slim hourglass figure. And despite her turning her back to him, he could still daydream about her beautiful face and her smooth feature.

God, she was so beautiful.

He tore his sight away from her frame to not seem like a hopeless romantic once again, then glanced at the walls of the kitchen. Black and white. Luxurious. Bigger than the kitchen at his parents' house despite them being wealthy as well.

"You..." he began, his voice smooth and soft, "you're really beautiful."

Did he really just say that?

She would think of him as an idiot now, he scolded himself, how could he be so stupid-

"Thanks," she replied in a cold, monotone voice.

He nodded awkwardly and turned away.

Click.

She turned off the stove, reached for the kitchen gloves, and grabbed the pot with both hands. Then, set it down on the wooden board on the island.

"Get some plates."

He obeyed without hesitation.

Setting the plates on the island, his nostrils were overwhelmed by the delicious smell of what she called 'grape leaves'. He gulped at the scent, realizing just now that he was starving.

"Thank you for cooking..." he thanked in a soft, grateful voice.

She only nodded before grabbing a spoon and letting out a small, cylinder-shaped green leaf wrapped around something. He stared at it for a second, unsure what it was.

"This is called grape leaves," she explained in a monotone voice, almost as if she read his mind, "it's a popular meal in Egypt. My mum used to make it to me before we moved here when I was fifteen."

After setting more rice-rolled grape leaves on one plate, she handed him the plate.

He grabbed a fork from nearby, then stabbed it in one of the grape leaves before shoving it in his mouth, his eyes widening at how hot it was.

"This... This tastes delicious!" He spoke while covering his mouth, regretting that he didn't wait for a few moments before putting the whole thing in his mouth. Even then, he wasn't lying.

The grape leaves tasted heavenly.

"Really?"

He thought he spotted her face brightening up at the compliment. He smiled for a brief second before nodding his head profusely.

"Thank you! It tastes amazing!" He said again, shoving another one in his mouth.

She nodded and brought her fork up to her lips, blowing at the leaf before gulping it down as well.

A few moments had passed with only the sound of forks clattering against the plates, without them talking whatsoever. Hyunjin ignored the butterflies erupting in his stomach and continued to chew on his food, heat rising to his soft cheeks. And not because of the hot grape leaves.

"I should get to work now. I'm going to be late today." She spoke finally after setting down her plate.

He nodded and waved at her as she hurried out of the room.

"Goodbye!" He called out, desperately hoping for an answer. Anything.

She stopped in her tracks and turned to him, her eyes stiff and her mouth dry. She sent him a swift nod.

"Goodbye," in the same monotone voice. Almost warmer than before. She stormed out of the room soon after, leaving her husband to stare at the place where she once stood. Only for a few moments, though, as his stomach grumbled for more food.

He turned his sight to the pot and reached for the fork, then stabbed it in one of the grape leaves, not bothering to put anything on the plate beside him anymore.