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It only took him a minute to find an acceptable option. He cut out a square of casserole and heated it in the microwave. I could smell oregano, onions, garlic, and tomato sauce. Something Italian. He stared intently at the plate while it revolved.
Perhaps I would learn to cook food. Not being able to appreciate flavors the same way a human did would definitely be a hurdle, but there seemed to be quite a bit of math to the process, and I was sure I could teach myself to recognize the correct smells.
Because, suddenly, I felt sure that this was just the first of our quiet evenings in, rather than a singular event. We would have years of this. He and I together, just enjoying each other's company. So many hours... the light inside me seemed to stretch and grow, and I thought again that I might shatter.
"How often?" Jungkook asked without looking at me. My thoughts were so caught up in this tremendous image of the future that I didn't follow him at once.
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"Hmmm?"
He still didn't turn. "How often did you come here?"
Oh, right. Time to have courage. Time to be honest, no matter the consequences. Though after the day I'd had, I felt fairly sure that he would eventually forgive me. I hoped.
"I come here almost every night."
He spun to look at me with startled eyes.
"Why?"
Honesty.
"You're interesting when you sleep. You talk."
"No!" he gasped. Blood washed into his cheeks and didn't stop there, coloring even his forehead. And the tips of his ears.
The room grew infinitesimally warmer as his blush heated the air around him. He leaned against the counter behind him, gripping it so hard that his knuckles turned white. Shock was the only emotion I could see in his expression, but I was sure others would come soon.
"Are you very angry with me?"
"That depends!" he blurted out breathlessly.
That depends? I wondered what could possibly mitigate my crime. What could make it less or more horrible? I was disgusted by the thought that he was reserving judgment until he knew exactly how off-side my lurking had been. Did he imagine that I was as depraved as any peeping tom? That I'd leered at him from the shadows, hoping for him to expose himself? If my stomach could turn, it would have.
