Waking up in the mornings was a harder task than I had originally thought.

The morning air was harsh against my skin, and the aching in the bones was especially harder after a night’s worth of twisting and turning. And yet, that had yet to keep me from doing what I did anyways.

But that didn’t make waking up any easier on me the second time than first.

“Here.”

Today, I’d come to school with two little brown baggies.  One of which contained its regular tuna sandwich for Jaebum – of which I’d passed along earlier in the morning –, and the other something else. Something a little out of its ordinary.

“What is this?”

Daehyun glanced up from his homework – the idiot never seemed to grasp that homework was meant to be done at home and not five minutes before class started – to watch me slide into my seat in a manner I’d hope appeared nonchalant. As nonchalant as I could with my cheeks flaring red in embarrassment and lips pressed together awkwardly. “Just take the goddamned bag and shut up.”

Thirteen days. That idiot Jung Daehyun had taken me out to McDonalds and proceeded to buy for me for exactly thirteen days. According to my calculations, that amounted to exactly sixty six thousand four hundred won*. That was more than my allowance for a whole month.

This was the least I could do for him, least my guilty conscious began to eat me alive.

Beside me, I could hear the rustling of the bag opening; and in that short moment, I swear my heart had sped by at least twenty times its normal rate. I couldn’t tell you why, but for whatever the reason, I wanted his approval.

“Is this fried rice?” His voice squeaked a little in pitched interest and I could feel his eyes on the back of my head as I hid myself from the rest of the world.

“Well it’s not soup, is it?” I didn’t mean to sound so pissed – or maybe I did – but that’s how the words came, strained and irate, “Himchan, my brother, used to cook with me when we were little. It was the only thing I could remember the recipe for.” But not exactly completely; so it probably tasted rancid, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

There was more crumpling of paper and a pop of the plastic lid on the container.

For a deafening second, I held my breath, instantly regretting having decided to make my compensation for all those burgers. Maybe I should have bought something instead. It definitely would have been easier; and more tasty. I was such a ing idiot.

“Wow! This is great!” There was a smile in his words; without looking, in the dark of my inner mind, I could imagine Daehyun’s eyes lit a happy squint as he flailed his spoon about, mouth full but still talking.

“You lack taste buds.”

He was probably just lying to make me feel better about myself. But guess what: it worked.

“You should definitely cook for me more often.”

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*sixty six thousand four hundred won = more or less about sixty usd