Chapter 21. Bound by flames

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"—turn the flame down to low and let it cook—"

Joshua carefully lowers the flame, his eyes darting between the stove and his phone.

Cooking along with a YouTube video always felt like a battle against time—ingredients being tossed in at lightning speed, instructions scrolling by faster than he could catch his breath.

It was nerve-wracking to listen and read the procedure simultaneously, only to end up with a dish far from what he intended.

But Joshua wasn’t like that. He knew exactly what he was making, and he would make it perfectly. Today, he was preparing a Japanese glass noodle bowl, a dish both he and Jeonghan adored.

What could be better than enjoying a meal with your best friend, especially one you both love? Absolutely nothing.

Joshua moved with practice ease around the kitchen, gathering the fresh ingredients he had laid out on the counter.

The thin, translucent noodles shimmered as he rinsed them under cool water, the light catching them like strands of silk.

He set them aside and reached for the vegetables next, slicing through crisp bell peppers, carrots, and green onions with a rhythmic, steady hand.

Their vibrant colors—red, orange, and green—added a cheerful contrast to the otherwise muted kitchen.

The scent of sesame oil filled the air as he drizzled it into a heated pan, the sizzle that followed reassuring him that everything was going just right.

Joshua tossed in minced garlic, and its rich aroma mingled with the sesame oil, making the whole kitchen feel warm and inviting.

He followed it with a quick stir of the noodles, watching as they absorbed the flavors, turning glossy under his careful attention.

He couldn’t help but smile. Cooking like this, methodically and thoughtfully, always reminded him of time spent with Jeonghan.

They’d shared so many late-night meals and quiet mornings, each bite tasting better just because they were together. Joshua glanced at the clock—Jeonghan would be here soon.

He imagined the way his best friend’s eyes would light up when he saw the meal prepared just for them, the way he would smile that easy, relaxed smile that made everything feel right in the world.

Joshua sat at the dining table, carefully setting the dishes, his hands moving with deliberate precision as he adjusted the food to perfection. It had been days since he’d had any time alone with Jeonghan, and the absence weighed on him more than he liked to admit.

He missed Jeonghan’s presence, the way his friend would fill the silence with endless chatter, mostly about how much he disliked Seungcheol. Yet, Joshua knew the truth hidden beneath Jeonghan’s complaints—how he couldn’t go a moment without talking about him.

Joshua’s mind drifted back to four days ago, to that coffee evening with Seokmin. It had been anything but pleasant. The memory of Seokmin eating the pineapple cake still sent a chill down Joshua’s spine.

Seokmin was allergic, deathly so, yet he had taken a bite without hesitation. The aftermath had been a nightmare—Seokmin's face flushing, throat constricting, a violent reaction that sent them scrambling for help.

The sight of blood, the angry red rashes, the way Seokmin's body trembled and contorted in pain—it all came rushing back to Joshua in vivid, terrifying detail.

Joshua sucked in a sharp breath, trying to steady himself against the flood of memories. The scars that marred Seokmin’s back haunted him.

They were a cruel reminder of the brutality Seokmin had endured. To think that a child of ten had been subjected to such horror was unbearable.

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