The Whispers (Underworld 6) VK

32: Back to Dorm

The table was set, and the smell of Seungkwan's cooking filled the apartment with a mouthwatering aroma. Seungkwan, proud of his creation, sat down across from Hansol, who had been smiling like a lovesick puppy the entire time. Chan, on the other hand, was sitting in the middle, sandwiched between them, looking like he wanted to escape this romantic bubble he'd been unwillingly sucked into.

"So, did you guys fight more or cook more in the kitchen?" Hansol asked, raising an eyebrow as he dished some food onto his plate. He was trying to look innocent, but the smirk on his face suggested he already knew the answer.

Seungkwan shot a look at Chan, who was already rolling his eyes. "Oh, we cooked plenty," Seungkwan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But someone"—he jabbed a thumb in Chan's direction—"thought it would be funny to micromanage everything."

Chan threw his hands up defensively. "I wasn't micromanaging! I was just trying to stop you from burning down the kitchen."

"I wasn't going to burn it down!" Seungkwan snapped, glaring at him. "I've cooked a thousand times. I know what I'm doing."

Chan pointed at a stray noodle on the floor. "Really? Because that noodle suggests otherwise."

Seungkwan huffed. "That was your fault. You were the one tossing noodles around like they were confetti."

Hansol was enjoying this too much. He leaned back in his chair, popping a piece of food into his mouth, and grinned. "So what I'm hearing is... teamwork at its finest?"

Chan snorted. "Yeah, if by teamwork you mean Seungkwan yelling at me to chop vegetables faster while threatening me with a frying pan."

"It was for motivation," Seungkwan insisted, crossing his arms. "You were cutting them like a sloth."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Seungkwan," Chan said with mock sweetness. "Next time I'll make sure to chop them at lightning speed while risking my fingers."

Seungkwan dramatically waved his hand. "I didn't ask you to lose fingers, just to keep up."

Hansol, still grinning, leaned over and playfully nudged Seungkwan's arm. "You're so bossy in the kitchen, Tangerine. I like it."

Seungkwan blushed at the nickname, immediately softening, though he tried to keep his annoyed facade intact. "Well, someone had to keep Chan in line. He's hopeless."

Chan made a face, clearly exasperated. "Oh, I'm hopeless? Says the guy who tried to add sugar to the stir-fry because, and I quote, 'sweet things are better.'"

Seungkwan bristled. "It was a creative choice!"

Hansol chuckled. "Sweet things, huh? Makes sense. You've got a sweet personality."

Seungkwan's blushing deepened, and Chan made a gagging sound. "Oh my god, please no. Not at the dinner table."

Hansol, unbothered, leaned closer to Seungkwan. "I'm serious. You're sweet. Even your cooking's got that little hint of sweetness to it."

Seungkwan bit his lip, trying to hold back a smile. "You're just saying that because you like me."

Chan clapped his hands together loudly, cutting through the moment. "Can we not do this lovey-dovey stuff while I'm sitting right here? I'm trying to enjoy the food I helped make."

Seungkwan smirked, deciding to tease Chan. "Oh, are we making you uncomfortable, Chan? Should we tone it down? Maybe sit farther apart?" He scooted his chair closer to Hansol, just to mess with him.

Hansol caught onto the game immediately, sliding his chair even closer to Seungkwan. "Yeah, Seungkwan, we should probably get really close. Like, no personal space at all."