End of the Road

Ingredients of Happiness

Unable to continue looking at her for the fear that he might want more than he could bargain for, he turned away.

In this kind of drowsy atmosphere he and Namjoo would rotate dishes for the fun of it. The restaurant was full and people talked in quiet mumbles so as not to disturb their neighbors. Sehun had been in this kind of place with Hayoung when he first started seeing her, then they slowed down and rarely ate out, but at the coffee shop.

In this kind of atmosphere, he wanted to sit beside Namjoo. And while talking he'd slip an arm around her. Even if he sat beside her now he wasn't permitted to do the same, so he slunk down into the chair across from her.

In this kind of atmosphere he couldn't release the tension in his muscles as he had at the amusement park. There was no joy to fulfill, but a gap that extended more and more between them. He couldn't grab her hand and feel her squeeze it back in return.

No, it wasn't like that at all.

Sehun was happy, but he didn't know what to say to keep preserving it. If he messed up, he would no longer be happy. He didn't want to unhappy.

With Namjoo in front of him it felt like a bandage was slowly wrapping his heart up and soon he would heal.

"Is your dish good?" Sehun asked.

"It's ok."

And he was glad that even so, she replied.

"Can I try?"

The lone light bulb overhead dimly shone a spotlight over them as if telling them now was their time and it belonged to only them. Talk more, it seemed to say, look at each other more; now's your chance.

With his back straight he looked over at her easily mesmerized by the way her short hair curled under her chin and over her shoulders. Were they still soft to the touch? Had she switched her shampoo brand? Would her hair smell different now?

"It's spicy," Namjoo told, "you don't like spicy food."

And he remembered the time he'd eaten the spicy dish she'd made one evening. Afraid to hurt her feelings and to keep his pride because Namjoo loved spicy food, he ate her dish. Sehun had wanted to meet her standards; be like her so that Namjoo might see him the same way. Afterward he ended up sweating as if he were in a sauna and the pain stabbed his insides until he had to curl up shamelessly on the floor. He remembered the embarrassment experienced then, but Namjoo had apologized furiously.

She had taken care of him, given him medicine, and wrapped him up in a blanket. Namjoo had taken care of him so well.

Sehun managed a tiny smile overjoyed that Namjoo remembered.

"That's right," he said, "I don't like spicy food."

He caught her looking at him for a split second with a very small smile before her eyes fell back to her dish. Sehun wondered if she had recalled the same memory.

When they walked out of the restaurant Sehun knew the day had ended for him. There was nothing to regret. He did what he was capable of. He was happy today was his day.

Namjoo didn't talk much on the drive much. He didn't expect much talk from her. It was ok too since she'd given her time to him.

"You don't have to walk me up," Namjoo told when he parked the car.

"I should at least walk you home," Sehun said and unbuckled his seatbelt before getting out.

The walk up was slow and he thought they walked slow for a reason. For the rest of the time he had left, he wanted to prolong. After this he really didn't know what would happen.