Chasing Perfection || Lee Know

Operation: Pudding

It was still bright outside in Seoul, golden sunlight filtering through the windows and catching on the soft fur of Soonie, Doongie and Dori as they dozed in different corners of the living room. Hyejin stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, staring at the open fridge with intense determination.

"I need to make something special," she muttered.

The kittens blinked lazily at her, unimpressed.

She'd already cleaned, fluffed the couch pillows three times, reorganized her spice rack alphabetically, and even color-coded Minho's sock drawer. But nothing filled the Minho-shaped gap in her chest the way she wanted.

And then she remembered.

That one night—weeks ago—when she had jokingly asked Minho what dessert he'd want on after an extremely disappointing day, and he'd answered, "An unnecessarily dramatic, stupidly rich pudding. I'm talking gold leaf levels of dramatic." He'd been half-asleep when he said it, face buried in her lap, voice drowsy and sweet. And he'd laughed after, like he hadn't meant it seriously.

But Hyejin? She remembered. And she was absolutely going to deliver.

She pulled out her phone and searched for a recipe that sounded sufficiently over-the-top. Custard base with real vanilla bean. Caramel layer, dark and bitter. Garnished with edible gold flakes, whipped cream rosettes, maybe even a candied citrus twist if she was feeling cocky.

"Okay, kittens," she said, snapping the fridge shut. "Operation Minho Pudding begins now."

Ten minutes later, she was at the grocery store, basket swinging in her hand as she darted between aisles like a woman on a mission. Nari had offered to come with her, but Hyejin declined. This was something she wanted to do on her own.

She grabbed cream, whole milk, expensive free-range eggs (because of course Minho's pudding would be pretentious), real vanilla beans, dark sugar, unsalted French butter. She almost skipped the edible gold but then saw it glinting behind the baking counter and thought, No, he deserves all the gold in the world.

By the time she left the store, the bags were heavy in her hands, but her heart felt full.

She couldn't stop smiling, already imagining Minho's face when she served it. She missed him so much it was almost stupid. But she could already hear him teasing her when he tasted it—"So dramatic. You're obsessed with me, aren't you?"

And she'd roll her eyes and say, "You wish," even though, yeah. She kind of was.

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⁀➷｡˚⸙͎۪۫⋆ ༄

The grocery bags rustled softly in the back seat as Hyejin drove through the quiet afternoon streets of Seoul, the sun a warm glow through the windshield. Her fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel, heart humming with the excitement of the secret she was about to create.

Pudding. For Minho. Ridiculously extravagant, entirely unnecessary, and absolutely perfect.

She had just started picturing how she'd serve it—on that tiny dessert plate with the gold rim, maybe with a smug "I made it and no, you don't get seconds" look—when her phone buzzed in the cupholder beside her.

Minho.

Her heart did the usual little flip-flop as she reached for the phone and answered through her car's speaker.

"Hey, baby," his voice came through, deep and warm and already smiling.

"Minho?" she grinned. "Aren't you supposed to be in the sky right now?"

"Layover babe, Next flight takes off in twenty. Thought I'd call before they make me turn everything off." He said with a soft chuckle.

She immediately softened. "Oh... it must be almost midnight, right? You must be exhausted."