The Truth Hurts [exo]

15

 Jongin left me to myself and I fell asleep only to wake up a little later when the sun was higher in the sky. My stomach growled and I knew I had to go down to greet Mrs. Kim and thank her for her hospitality. Hopefully she wasn't two-faced like the couple was.

I peeked down from the railing of the staircase and saw the old lady working in the kitchen with a boy. They were covered in flour and I felt bad for taking up space in their home while they worked so hard. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Kim,” I greeted her by bowing when I got to the kitchen. 

The granny turned around and wiped her hands on her apron before ushering me to a table. “It’s nearly afternoon, dear, but good morning to you too.”

I thanked her after she poured me some tea and then I looked around the kitchen for Jongin. 

“Are you feeling better, Miss?” The boy, who looked a lot younger than me, brought over a plate of dainty cakes. He towered over Mrs. Kim but had the face of a baby. 

I nodded. “A lot better.” I realized he was the one that had helped carry Jongin into the house last night. “Do you work here?”

The boy tossed a ball of dough between his hands and smiled. “Sort of.”

Mrs. Kim interrupted us. “He’s been here since he was a kid. He’s pretty much my own grandson now.” She patted him on the back, leaving a white handprint on his shirt. 

The boy didn’t notice at all but nodded proudly instead. “Mrs. Kim took me in when I was eight.”

“I have a soft spot for strays.” The old lady chuckled before opening the oven to put in a tray of bread. 

“So you’re an orphan?” I asked. 

This time, the boy shook his head. “I have parents but they often left me on my own at night.”

Mrs. Kim interrupted again, proudly showing off her adopted grandson’s story. “And this brave thing decided to knock on a stranger’s door to get some help. Thank goodness my own sons had already moved out or else I wouldn’t have had any room left.”

I laughed softly at the bond that Mrs. Kim and the boy shared. “What’s your name?” I wanted to get to know these two more and I felt blessed to have found their home as a shelter. 

“Luhan.”

I tried saying the name but it just didn’t sound right in my mouth. “Well, Luhan, do you need any help?” I stood up and drank the last of my tea, not even realizing how thirsty I was. 

“Yes, actually.” He led me to a counter that was dusted with white flour. “Our village’s harvest festival’s in a few days and we need to prepare a bunch of stuff before then. Do you know how to make rice cakes?”

I stood there, staring at the bowls in front of me. I realized had never been to the kitchen to cook; I had only gone as a child to grab some snacks before supper. I shook my head and pursed my lips. “I can try, though.”

Luhan shrugged and decided to let me take on the job. He taught me the right ratio of water and rice flour to make the dough, and he showed me how to prepare the filling. Lastly, he began shaping the cakes. I watched as he enclosed the filling with colourful dough and pinch it in such a way that it looked like a precious dumpling. 

I spent the afternoon kneading and stirring and shaping little rice cakes. The first few were unappealing lumps of dough. Then I was making spheres of rice cakes. Finally, my creations were starting to look like Luhan’s.

“Evening, Luhan!” He and I turned around at the same time to find a girl standing at the front door. Her gaze briefly lingered on me before finding Luhan.