HEAT • Chanrosé

ten

"Your father. I want to hear about him."

They had created their own show on the roof before hiding away deep in apartment, creating their own corner of the world. Chaeyoung eye lids were heavy but she didn't dare fall asleep. The sound of his secure heartbeat laced into her, keeping her rooted in his arms. His skin against hers felt right, like her nerves had been designed for the sole purpose of him. His hands, and lips. And as her fingers traced his own skin, she wondered if made it was made to feel her too.

Because this, them, felt too complete. She felt complete and that didn't make any sense, because Chaeyoung was sure she would never feel whole again after the thing that had taken her apart. The exact topic he was asking her about.

"My father?" Her voice was small, she didnt talk about him often. Not even with the boys.

Chanyeol hummed in response for her to continued, his chest softly vibrating underneath her finger tips.

"He used to say that cooking oil ran through his veins, and sometimes I believed him. God, he was such a good cook. If only you could have tried the omelettes he would make for me in the morning before school. I swear, it was like eating a cloud stuffed full of ham and cheese."

"Was he a chef?" Chanyeol shifted their bodies, turning her back to press against his chest. Chaeyoung bit her lip, grinning when his arms enveloped her small frame into him tightly. Like he was trying to mold them into one. For a man who terrified those around him, he seemed to love contact when alone. Contact of every kind.

"Head Chef of Casa De La Park." She huffed a small laugh, hearing her father's voice echo in her head along with her words. "That what he called our kitchen. He taught me all that I know."

"You're talented. If he taught you what he knew, I can only imagine just how good he really is. And if that's the case, he could have had a Michelin Star restaurant if he wanted." His breath tickled behind her ear as he spoke, low and calm. Soothing, almost. The lights off, just them in the darkness and warmth.

She smiled sadly to herself, "Dad found his dream late in life, and we couldn't afford for him to chase it. Money was tight, so he stayed in the job that trapped him."

"A good man." Chanyeol whispered.

"I remember one night he came home from work, his eyes looked so soft yet so drained. My mom was down my throat about colleges, saying that becoming a chef was no career and I got upset and locked myself in my room, being a teenage girl I am. Next thing I know, a little note slides underneath my door and all it says is 'College sucks'." Chaeyoung's words ended with a small laugh.

She could hear his smile as he spoke into her, "And a very smart man."

"He was the best." She breathed, nodding faintly. "The next morning when I opened my door, his knife was placed in front of it and I knew I couldn't let life steamroll me into getting suck in a career like he had, or anything that wasn't what I wanted for myself."

"And look at you now. I'm sure your father is more than proud."

Chaeyoung smiled shyly, turning in his arms to bring them face to face, the palm of her hands running along his bare skin of his toned upper arms as she did. The pride in his husky voice felt like no other, it felt sacred. Like she needed to keep in in a case and preserve it.

A smirk curled at the corner of his mouth, "Working next to one of the best Chefs in the world is an achievement in itself." His confidence always made her heart skip like a young girl watching her favorite idol perform.

"Don't you mean under?" She teased seductively, watching his smirk turn into another genuine smile as he laughed. Caught off guard from her sudden change in subject but a Chaeyoung was a woman of duality.