The year someone turns 18 they have the opportunity to be injected with a serum that will produce a soulmate mark somewhere on their body. This serum is costly and the procedure to get the injection is not covered by insurance.
A rare illness cropp...
I wake up at 6am, and I'm immediately thankful that my inner clock seems to be already adjusting itself appropriately. Even if this is a bit early I can at least go downstairs and start seeing what I have to work with breakfast wise in the pantry and refrigerator. I'm hoping to make a simple western breakfast, but if they don't have the necessary ingredients I will figure out a way to make something work. Even if it requires me perusing over the web in a mad google search for recipes.
Luckily I find that the pantry is stocked with exactly what I was considering. I pull the large box of pancake mix out of the pantry, and I then stick my head inside the main fridge for ideas to go alongside the pancakes. I jump a bit when I feel arms wrap themselves around me. "It's kind of early for you to be up, Petal." He whispers directly against my ear.
"I'm surprised you haven't realized by now that I'm an early bird, Hobi. Besides, if this is early for me, then it is more than early for you." I continue attempting to ignore him as I sort through stuff on the shelves and drawers.
He releases me so he can reach past where my hands are extended and point out items in the fridge. "There are berries here, and I know you like bacon with your pancakes so you can find that here." I'm quite capable but he chooses to pull them out himself even before I can ask him to do so.
Although, I'm not sure I was going to ask for his assistance. It's not that I don't want him to help, it's just that I'm so used to it being Yoongi and/or Jin helping me in the kitchen that Hobi being here is somewhat throwing me off. Not in a bad way. It's just with Hobi I always feel like I have to be on my toes around him. Like he expects me to give back joking barbs all the time now, and one of these times I won't be prepared like I have been.
"Thank you for sharing your memories with us last night by the way. Your mother was a very beautiful woman. You look a lot like her."
I shake my head. "She was beautiful, so thank you. But I don't think I look that much like her. I guess maybe the color of my eyes and the shape of my face. My riotous hair though? I have no clue where that came from." I chuckle slightly at my own comment.
He shrugs. "I don't know why you complain about your hair so much. I happen to love it." He comes over to me and tucks a strand behind my ear.
"Oh, don't get me wrong. I do happen to love the hair color, the curls however can be cumbersome."
I grab the milk out of the refrigerator and go to join him.
He nods. "I can definitely relate to that."
I arch an eyebrow at him in confusion. "Huh?" There goes my eloquence again. I give myself a heavy dose of sarcasm.
"Oh, you haven't noticed? My hair has a natural wave to it. It's a little curly, so I can't completely empathize with how you claim your curls are as riotous as you say, but I can get a general idea since the hair stylist noonas have to make an effort to straighten my hair when we do photo shoots and make interview appearances."
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