The Flowers We Saw

Coming Half Undone

She stayed.

As Sehun started rummaging through his cupboards and drawers for cooking tools, Namjoo went over to see what Kihoon was up to. He glanced at her with a snarky smile. Bright, wide eyes of intense curiosity. He didn't ask why she was still here. Just returned right back to his building blocks. Forcing a piece that didn't quite fit on his tower.

Namjoo looked over her shoulder to see how Sehun was doing. What he was planning to make. The busy man he was, was occupied at the stove. The overhead vent humming noisily. He didn't look awkward in the kitchen anymore.

Namjoo's eyes swam away from him. Sweeping over the floor before making their way back to him. His expression so focused. Like he was in his own world. Far, far away from them. Intent on completing a personal assigned task. He wouldn't accept failure.

It had been so long since she had seen him this way.

Before the restaurant opened Namjoo slept in on Sundays. A privilege given to her when they moved out of his parents' home. She'd wake to pots and pans rattling. Find Sehun busily going through his phone for cooking instructions. The kitchen a littered mess, because he didn't know what he was looking for and what ingredient was what.

Sehun wasn't a perfect cook. He knew nothing when she married him. His parents hadn't reared him to enter the kitchen fully informed about what a spatula was. The first time she taught him to slice meat he nearly cut his finger off.

But he appeared content. His dishes ranging from absolutely bland to downright salty. Yet Sehun still tried despite the numerous failures. That had touched her.

"Go away, mommy." Kihoon gently pushed her. "I pway."

Compressing her lips, Namjoo got to her feet. Slowly heading Sehun's direction. Twiddling with her fingers, anxious.

Approaching she asked, "What are you making?"

A hint of butter brushed her nostrils. The faint sound of sizzling tingled her ears. In the pan was a mix of Chinese broccoli and chicken.

"Your butter broccoli dish." Sehun answered. "I substituted chicken instead. It probably makes for a lighter breakfast." He hesitantly glanced at her, quietly asking, "That's ok, right?"

"Oh...yea." She glanced at him then to the pan.

Sehun's eyes veered her way then to the stove. To her again, "Do you want to taste it?"

Shaking her head, Namjoo said, "It's ok. I'll trust you."

She was left standing awkwardly. Fumbling to do something, so she searched for plates and utensils.

"Kihoon, put your toys away and come eat," Sehun called out putting the dish in the center of the table. There was a smaller bowl at the head of the table for their son. Calling in a deeper tone, "Kihoon!"

Pouting, Kihoon dropped his model airplane and sauntered toward them. Grabbing him around the waist Sehun lifted him up toward the sink to wash his hands. When his feet touched ground again, he hurried toward the table pushing himself up onto his chair. Picking up his fork he poked at the chicken. Tearing it apart and plucking it into his mouth with his hand. Then he went poking at the meat again.

"Eat your green, too." Sehun chided. "Don't shove it aside."

Reaching over he used his spoon to move the vegetable Kihoon had discreetly placed on the edge of his plate back into the center.

"Don't want eat!" Kihoon whined.

"Kihoon," Namjoo scolded. "Listen to your daddy. You have to eat it if you want to grow big."