"You took so long. I was expecting you would've scrubbed off all the ugliness from your face" Kris mumbled from under a throw pillow.

"If you're in such a hurry, you should've left by yourself. I'd be grateful" I snorted.

"No makeup even? They don't sell anything capable of saving your face?" he chuckled, standing up to smooth the creases formed on his pants, "let's go."

I eyed him cautiously. His outfit is quite suspicious if people on the street saw him.

"You're wearing school uniform. People might think you cut class" I pointed out.

"Well, isn't that what I did though?" he shrugged as he undid the buttons on his vest.

"Whoa, what do you think you're doing?!" I squealed, covering my eyes. I heard him snicker and walk away. When I heard his footsteps come back from what I assume to be my bedroom, I looked at him. He had gotten rid of his vest and collared blouse, leaving a white undershirt on. The navy blue color of the school pants perfectly matched the thing around his neck. I have to admit he looks decent in it. Still...

"You didn't even ask for my permission to 1) enter my bedroom, 2) open my closet, and 3) wear my scarf" I whined. That was before getting dragged out the door all the way into the train station.
--
"Waah~ samgyupsal" my mouth began to water at the plentiful sight in front of me. But then it hit me how expensive Kris's order for us is.

"Are you crazy? You know I only work part-time in the cafe" I facepalmed myself while mentally computing for the total bill.

Kris was too busy gobbling everything up to pay attention. I didn't dare touch anything with my chopsticks. That would be touch move. Touch it, pay for it. I don't want one-third of my earnings to disappear in the blink of an eye! Ugh, Kris. Why Gangnam of all places?

But the pork belly was cackling so beautifully on top of the grill...inviting me.

No, Haneul. Control yourself.

But samgyupsal...

Samgyupsal is...

"Samgyupsal is your favorite, isn't it?" Kris suddenly spoke.

"No," I lied. He responded with a mere raise of an eyebrow.

"Don't lie. Just go eat, okay? I'm paying" he said.

I had this strong urge to ask him where angels get their money. Do they just appear like poof in their wallets? How unfair.

But now isn't the time for curiosity...nor pride. And with that, I began to stuff my face with the delicious pork.

"Aigoo," I patted my stomach as Kris settled the bill, "so full."

"Did you mean 'so fat'?" he chuckled.

I gasped and threatened to hit him.

"Just kidding. Actually...you've been getting thinner. Stop overworking yourself, Haneul" Kris said, his voice a key lower than usual. A serious tone.

I wanted to push the serious tone away and decided to change the topic. I'm sure it wouldn't be very wise to answer with 'I can take care of myself'. His tone would probably drop twelve keys even lower.

"I don't remember mentioning that I like samgyupsal" I told him.

"It was easy to tell with your eyes turning into saucers the moment we walked by the neon 'samgyupsal' sign" he said, exaggerating his widened eyes as if to imitate me.

I retaliated with a playful punch to his arm. "Thank you, Kris" I said.

He nodded. And I'm sure he understood that it was not just for the food. No one has worried about me in a while.

Our attention got stolen by a man smashing his fists on the bar table at the other end of the restaurant.

"But sir, you're already drunk. We care for our customers' well-being" the manager said, finally arriving to the frantic bartender's aid.

"I showed you my ID. I'm legal. Now give me some more of this damn drink" he demanded in a deep yet cracking voice. Despite his loud voice, what caught my eye was what he's wearing. Although his top was covered by a hoodie, the navy blue pants and the vest peeking out from under the jacket is unmistakeable. The bouncers probably did not recognize it as a school uniform since it is not from anywhere near this area. Gangnam is quite a travel.

The man is now a sobbing mess on the bar table, with the manager still prodding him to leave the premises. Babo. If you make him leave like that, who knows what would happen to him on the streets. Selfish capitalist, only concerned about his restaurant's image. 'We care for our customers' well-being.' Yeah, right.

The man, with all his shaky shoulder movement from crying, accidentally dropped the ID card in his hand. He bent down to pick it up, the light illuminating a part of his face.

From this angle, I could finally glimpse at his features. Doe eyes, white skin, smooth jawline. If the navy blue pants were unmistakeable, this face is even more committed to my memory. I know, because I have spent many nights dreaming of it.

"Ch-chanyeol-oppa?"