Lee Kangjoo never touched the food Haejun had made. Haejun couldn’t exactly tell him to eat it just for the effort, so he kept quiet.
“Um... then where’s the vacuum cleaner?”
Deciding to save the food attempt for next time and at least do some cleaning, Haejun asked. Lee Kangjoo, who had been reading the newspaper, flicked his gaze up.
“Why.”
“I thought I’d clean a bit. It feels weird staying here and doing nothing at all.”
“That’s not why I brought you here. Someone comes regularly to take care of the house, so you don’t need to worry about that, Mr. Cha Haejun.”
“At least my room, I can take care of that myself—”
“That’s part of my house too.”
He cut Haejun off with a faint smile. Any further response would just sound like backtalk, so Haejun stuffed the toast into his mouth to keep his sulking lips busy.
* * *
Even though the first day ended in failure, Haejun didn’t give up.
Sure, the biggest reason was that Lee Kangjoo didn’t eat breakfast at all, but Haejun firmly believed about ten percent of the blame lay with how bad his cooking had been. If he made it better—if he got good enough—then even Lee Kangjoo wouldn’t be able to resist.
He even clenched his fists and stubbornly latched onto Kangjoo’s mornings. Despite Haejun blatantly ignoring what he’d said, Lee Kangjoo didn’t comment. More precisely, he didn’t care.
Whether Haejun served half-burnt French toast, a salad drenched in dressing, or proudly presented a perfectly cooked fried egg by sheer luck, Lee Kangjoo never touched it. No praise either. He treated the table like it was empty. As if assuming Haejun would eventually get tired and quit on his own.
The dishes always stayed untouched; only the cup ever emptied. At least he accepted one cup of tea, and Haejun took comfort in that. Though it always started with Kangjoo moving the cup from the edge to the center.
Haejun couldn’t figure out why, when he was sure he’d placed it in the middle, it always ended up back on the edge later. It wasn’t like the cup had legs.
Even the dullest person improved with repetition, and Haejun’s cooking steadily got better too, until he finally escaped the burnt-toast stage. Chewing on a corner of evenly browned bread, golden like wood grain, Haejun glanced sideways at Lee Kangjoo.
Lee Kangjoo turned the pages of the newspaper with an indifferent face. His eyes and head moved lazily along the lines of text. Haejun’s stare had to be annoying by now, but Kangjoo didn’t even look his way.
Haejun lost the long silence. Wiping crumbs from his mouth with his thumb, he hesitantly opened his mouth.
“Are you free tomorrow?”
Since treating him to breakfast seemed hopeless, he decided to try a different route. If Kangjoo said yes, he planned to go to the movies. Not because he wanted to go himself, but to find some hobby that could sprinkle a bit of salt into Kangjoo’s dry life. He’d already picked the movie. It wasn’t a romance.
Lee Kangjoo finally lifted his eyes from the paper. Seeing that flat gaze, Haejun swallowed hard. His throat prickled. He was nervous about being turned down.
“In the afternoon.”
“Then... would you like to go watch a movie with me?”
There it is. Haejun jumped in eagerly. Lee Kangjoo tilted his head slightly, thinking. Was he checking his schedule, or looking for a reason to refuse?
“There’s a movie I want to see, but it feels awkward going alone. I thought it’d be nice to go with you, sir. I don’t have any ulterior motives, I swear. You said before you don’t have hobbies, and that stuck with me. There’s a lot of fun stuff in the world, so I just thought we could try something. Pure intentions only.”
“Hm.”
“I actually got free tickets. A friend had something urgent come up and gave them to me. It’d be a waste to throw them out, right? And it’s too last-minute to sell them. Right?”
Haejun rattled on. It might have sounded pathetic, but he didn’t want to miss this chance.
Finding a hobby for Lee Kangjoo might be a shameless excuse. The truth was, he just wanted to ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ watch a movie with him. Spend time outside, drink coffee, walk down a nice path—like he did with Yohan.
Please say yes. Haejun even clasped his hands together, staring at Lee Kangjoo with desperate eyes. They shone so brightly it felt like you’d have to put a snack in his mouth.
“What time.”
“Eight in the evening!”
“That should work.”
“Really? It’s a promise, okay?!”
Haejun sprang to his feet and bounced around, then suddenly stuck out his pinky. Lee Kangjoo just watched, so Haejun urged him to hurry up and hook fingers. When Kangjoo held out his hand, Haejun found his ring finger and entwined it with his own.
“Pinky swear. You can’t back out.”
He even pressed their thumbs together firmly like a seal, then let go. With a refreshed look, Haejun hummed to himself while clearing the table, said he’d head out first, and left.
Left alone, Lee Kangjoo stared at the spot where Haejun had gone, then shifted his gaze to his own hand. A warmth like lukewarm water clung to his ring finger and thumb. Unfamiliar with the ticklish sensation the heat brought, he rubbed his thumb with his index finger. Even so, the feeling didn’t fade.
* * *
Haejun finished his deliveries early and came back, pulling every piece of clothing from the closet and trying them on. He stood in front of the mirror, changing outfits again and again, but nothing felt right. ƒrēewebnovel.com
Even when he worked as a host, he’d basically been a one-outfit guy, and his casual clothes were mostly cheap off-brand or secondhand stuff, worn with age.
But he couldn’t exactly show up in a full suit either. Borrowing from Yohan—who had a similar build—would just get him scolded for making such a fuss.
Since buying new clothes was out of the question, Haejun picked the cleanest, least-pilled outfit he owned. It wasn’t satisfying, but it was the best he could do.
Styling his hair took forever too. Why was it that nothing ever went right when something important was coming up? The sides stuck out, the bangs curled the wrong way. Only after he finally managed something passable did he set the hair dryer down.
He’d never put this much effort into anything in his life. Not even back when he’d wanted to be Han Yeonghwa’s pretty pet. Haejun let out a dry laugh at his reflection, then shook his head sharply to get it together. frёewebnoѵēl.com
“Gotta do well if I want more money.”
The goal was money, and only money. Cash that would save him from debt and give him back a normal life.
Who knew—if he wagged his tail hard enough, maybe Lee Kangjoo would toss him a watch and call him cute. Carving Yohan’s heartfelt advice—squeeze out everything you can—into his chest, Haejun marched out of the house.
Of course, things couldn’t go smoothly. It was the weekend, traffic was awful, and he ended up a little late. The taxi hit every red light possible, and the elevator stopped on every floor. Haejun glanced back and forth between his phone and the floor numbers, gnawing on his lower lip.
He finally squeezed out through the crowd-packed doors. Maybe it was a prime movie time slot—people were everywhere, no room to step. Haejun lifted onto his toes, craning his neck to scan the crowd.
He spotted Lee Kangjoo immediately. Tall enough to stand a head above everyone else, he was easy to pick out even in the sea of people.
Unlike Haejun, who’d made a whole production out of getting ready, Kangjoo wore what he always did: a black coat over a suit. No tie. Somehow that made him look even cleaner, fitting the movie theater perfectly.
People passing by glanced at him. Some even worked up the courage to approach and talk to him. Forgetting he was late, Haejun hid behind a human-sized poster panel and watched, curious how Kangjoo would react.
He couldn’t hear what was said. A woman held out her phone, exchanged a few words, then put it away. Even from afar, her disappointment was obvious as she backed off. Kangjoo had turned her down.
Haejun pressed down the corners of his mouth with his fingers, trying to control his expression. The moment he let go, his lips crept back up. He cleared his throat, tapped his cheeks, doing his best to erase the stupid grin. He couldn’t let Lee Kangjoo see this face.
“What are you doing.”
Hic—Haejun nearly jumped out of his skin as he spun around. The panel he’d been leaning on wobbled and almost fell, and he hurriedly grabbed it. His heart pounded like it was about to burst out of his chest.
“S-sir?”
“I was wondering what you were doing, standing here all this time.”
“When did you realize I was here?”
“From the moment you got off the elevator.”
So he’d seen everything. Haejun’s face flushed bright red.