wish » k.mg

스물 ✧ 우리

T W E N T Y ✧ W E
. . .

MINGYU REFUSED to let me go to work after what happened at the alleyway. He insisted that I should stay home for the night, where there is a higher chance of safety than in a public place such as the café I was supposed to work in. The boy didn't want me out of his sight, and though I tried to compromise with him saying that he should just come with me to work so that he'd actually be able to watch my every move, he still said no to my proposition and made my decision for me.

That is why we are currently in my kitchen slicing and dicing vegetables on the kitchen counter, a whole chicken chopped to cubes and sitting patiently on a tray on the kitchen island. The two of us are harmlessly arguing with each other about insignificant things, doing so just for the laughs, and it's as if nothing happened not more than two hours ago.

"No no no! Don't put in the carrots just yet!" I protest, but Mingyu does so anyway and gives me a victorious smirk instead of a guilty look of sorts.

"Too late." He says, adding the diced potatoes onto the tray as well and making me huff.

"You're supposed to let the chicken sit for a couple of minutes so that the spices would permeate it!"

"It makes no difference." Mingyu waves me off as he reaches for a clove of garlic. I quickly grab it in my hands so that he won't be able to get it, though, making him look up at me questioningly.

"Yes. It. Does." I tell him, scrunching up my nose in an attempt to look mean although I know that it's not working even the slightest bit. I keep at it, though, in hopes that it's enough to let him know of my disapproval.

"Aww, you look so squishy when you're angry." The boy says, squishing my cheeks in between his hands and making pouty faces at me. I try to jerk my face away so that he can't see the blush that's already creeping onto my face, but his grip is strong and my face remains in his hands.

"Naw, I'm so lucky to get you as an AC." He cooes, knowing well that all his compliments do nothing but make my face go red. "I can't imagine how it would be if you got someone else as your agent."

"Why?" I ask, my voice coming out a little muffled due to my puckered lips. Pulling my face away once more and this time succeeding, I cock one eyebrow at him. "Are you going to get jealous if that happens?"

"Mmm, possibly."

"Well in that case..." I tap my chin and look up, pretending to be in thought. "Can I get... Hm, what's his name again? Seungcheol's number?"

"Wh—" Mingyu starts, but I wasn't done talking.

"He's Seventeen's leader, right? Maybe I can ask him about whether or not I can switch agents with someone else." I speak, acting like I'm really into the idea to irk the boy. "Oh, I know! Maybe I can switch with Minghao's AC since he's always so incredibly nice to everyone and nev—"

Before I can even finish my sentence, I feel Mingyu's body pressed up against mine, his two hands on either side of me on the kitchen counter. Stunned, I blink multiple times, his cold eyes staring into mine.

"Don't. Say. Those. Things." He growls, his face dangerously close to mine. I gulp, suddenly remembering the Mingyu I saw at the alleyway, but stay silent as I simply look at him with wide eyes.

Neither of us moves for a while, but it's not like I can even do so if I wanted to, anyway. I was practically pinned against the kitchen island, and by the look of Mingyu's face, I'd be dumb to do anything funny. I know that he wouldn't hurt me, but I'm still going to play safe.

"Now..." Mingyu suddenly begins, his voice still unusually low as he places one hand on top of mine and slyly taking the garlic away from me, "Let me cook in peace, ae-in."

He then gets off of me with a satisfied smirk plastered on his face, and resumes chopping as if nothing had occurred. My lips are still slightly parted from shock and puzzlement, and it takes me quite sometime to register just what on earth happened.

Ever so casually, Mingyu starts whistling to an unfamiliar song, his usual happy expression back on his face. All anger and signs of negativity seems to have instantly washed off his face, and honestly, his sudden change in moods is starting to make me wonder if he's actually bipolar.

"Hey, Mingyu?" I ask after finally regaining my composure, "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends," He shrugs, eyes still on the chopping board and hand working to cut an onion this time. "If it's another question regarding how you can replace me with Th—Minghao," Mingyu stops working to correct himself— "Then no, you may not."

"I was just kidding!" I pout, tilting my face and shifting forward so that he can see my face. "I told you once that I'd be crazy to want you out of my life. I meant it, you know."

Mingyu chuckles. "Okay, then. What is it?"

I pause, contemplating whether or not I should ask the question that's been bugging me for days now. In truth, I'm a little embarrassed about asking it but curiosity gets the better of me so I let the words pour out of my mouth as I hold my breath.

"What are we?"