It all probably started when she asked to borrow some sugar.

I'm sure of it, because anything that happened before, I can't quite remember. Actually, when she asked to borrow some sugar was the first time we ever had a conversation. She'd been living next to me for over two years, and the start of us happened over a small canister of sugar. I know, it's somewhat hard to believe.

It was almost midnight. I'd just plopped down onto my bed, surrounded by the mess that cumulated over the past weeks after losing my job. Grief was the only thing I knew. I hated how I let myself go -- my hair, my clothes, everything. I had blond strands poking out in every direction thanks to not combing it, and the slight five o'clock shadow that held my face. Unfortunately, an obnoxious knock awoke me from my self-loathing, and I grumbled some curses as I walked over to the door.

She was more than beautiful.

Wearing a slightly stained pink apron over her white dress, she had powder all around her face in different spots. It was endearing, almost. Her eyes locked on mine, dark and round, like almonds. 

"I was wondering if I could borrow some sugar."

I just blinked. Being a lone twenty-four year old man, I did have a small amount of sugar somewhere in my unorganized cabinets. "Yeah," I said in a soft voice, I almost forgot how to talk after just seeing her. I cleared my throat and walked over to my kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets to find some sugar.

I jumped when I heard her voice close by. "Hurry up! I don't have much time." I turned to see her sitting on one of the chairs, elbow leaning against the marble counter as she stared at me with bored eyes. "I have a bake sale tomorrow and I don't need my co-workers hounding me for not making anything." 

Took me a while to realize she'd come into my apartment uninvited, but I went ahead and found the sugar she so desperately needed. 

Her cheeks were painted a slight pink, I noticed this as she looked at me. It made me wonder if she was wearing makeup or anything. But her face was so pristine and fair, it would be a shame for her to wear makeup and cover it all. Granted, the blush was almost unnoticeable, so maybe I was staring too hard.

But I loved it.

 

----

 

The next time, she needed some flour.

Sometimes, I was surprised at how many of these I had lying around my cabinets. I could have spiced up some of my ramen noodles if I did a little tidying up sooner. 

"They asked me to bake two cakes! Two! A little lady like me can't just be ordered around to do that. Then they act like they can't eat it because they'll gain some weight." Yes, she sounded frustrated but she was smiling now, tracing some circles atop the counter with her index. "But they come back for seconds and thirds when no one's looking. So I guess it doesn't go to waste." 

I promptly listened to her as I searched through a drawer or two to find the bag of flour I had hidden away. She never took her eyes off the countertop, maybe it was that mesmerizing? Nice color and all. But she'd never look me in the eye, I almost thought I was somewhat intimidating or so I've been told. When I open my mouth for the first time, people's eyes usually widen at the sound of my voice. But she wasn't like that.

I didn't think about it, but even so, I cleaned myself up after the first time she came around. Finally got around to fixing my hair and washing my face properly. Maybe I was subconsciously hoping she'd come around again. And she did. Honestly, there was never not a smile on my face when it came to her.

"Just because I own a bakery doesn't mean I could just bake anything in a minute or two!"

"You own a bakery?" I asked, somewhat surprised.

She patted her dress down, it was a different color this time but still accompanied by the same apron. Her eyes met mine for the first time. And while I thought she was avoiding the question, she finally answered, "I used to."

I knew then I'd hit a soft spot on her, though I know she'd never admit it. Never had her expression fallen, to a point where it was crystal clear she'd hit rock bottom. I had faith in her.

"I don't have all day, Yongguk-ah!"

We knew each other's names now, basic information exchanged, of course. But when she called my name, I'd always feel like my heart was lifted. She had this tendency to make me feel like I was on cloud 9, just by the sound of her voice.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, _____."

When I handed her the small bag of flour and some powder from her cheek with my thumb, her lips curved into a smile. Little did I know, that was the same moment my heart opened up after a long, long time. To her and her only.

 

----

 

It's almost been three months now, and I'd rushed to the store to buy a whole collection of spices.

She only asked for a few, and I ended up buying the whole aisle basically. Nutmeg, ginger, juniper, and paprika too. I spent half of my paycheck on those spices, and even treated them to a shelf I built all on my own. But one day, she asked for something more.

I opened my door that Sunday afternoon, expecting the mailman or someone else. Certainly not her, because she had work at this time.

But she was standing there, a small box in her hands. 

And a little pink slip that was crumpled up, but could still be seen between her fingers.

"I was wondering if I could borrow a room." Her voice was raspy, and I knew even without looking at her eyes, that she'd been crying so much. So much for one little lady. 

She bit her lip as she looked at me, when my eyes crossed hers, I expected something different.

I expected her eyes to be low, stained with pain and regret. But if you looked at them then, they were everything but.

 

----

 

Soon, it wasn't surprising to find her sprawled out across the couch, clutching to her apron like it was a blanket. I'd walk by and yawn, on my way to the kitchen for a nice bowl of cereal. But right when I'd shake that box for some frosted flakes, she'd yawn and scowl at me. "Don't eat that!" She'd say and tie her apron around her. "I'll make you something worthwhile."

Then I would go and get ready for work, and I'd come back to find a nice meal prepared for me. Bacon, an omelet, and two pieces of toast was my regular breakfast. It didn't seem like much, but I'd never be hungry afterwards. The first time, she stood there bursting with confidence. She pushed me to my seat and smiled, "Go on, tell me how it tastes!"

I'd down the whole meal along with a small glass of orange juice and I'd smack my lips and give her a discouraging look.

"Needs some salt." 

It was a joke, of course. And to her, that meant it tasted wonderful. Anything she cooked was remarkable. I never felt hungry afterwards like I'd usually do after a simple bowl of cereal and sometimes a banana.

"Yongguk-ah!"

She'd always squeal and hit me with the utensil she had in her hand. Never did she not have that smile on her face, the one that always brightened up my day.

 

----

 

It was almost midnight when I felt someone join me in my bed.

I was too tired to realize that I mumbled her name and asked her to come closer, but she only smiled and threatened to hit me with a spatula if I didn't be quiet.

We never spoke of that, but a few days later, I remembered. And the blush on my face whenever I looked at her could not be more than evident.

 

----

 

You would think that when I kissed a girl, it would be romantic and passionate. Maybe even spontaneous. 

But when I kissed her, it was none of that. It was rough and almost forced, my mouth was dry and I desperately hoped she wouldn't mind. Because I needed her, I needed to taste her. 

And then our bodies collapsed together. We weren't graceful, to say the least. But we both knew that this wasn't our first time.

She'd leave kisses on my heated skin and I found myself to be somewhat foolish to just tremble beneath her touch. But it had been a long time.

She'd squeal when I entered her, whether I was slow or fast, gentle or rough. Those little sounds made my member throb inside of her. I knew she loved it.

When it was almost her claim to bliss, she'd bite her lip hard enough to draw blood, because she refused to scream or even call out any words. Not even my name. Not even when I begged her to.

And I would not stop until she did. 

 

----

 

Working in a big shot office has its perks. I'd saved up enough money to finally invest it in something worthwhile.

And no, it was not more spices.

I don't know how long it's been since that little number had increased every day, filling me with hope. It was long before I'd even met her, before she ever asked for some sugar.

She pouted, holding onto my wrists as I guided her from our apartment.

I also found out she hated being blindfolded.

"Aish, can I take it off now?" She grumbled while picking at the cloth over her eyes, but I just kissed her cheek and shooed her hand away.

"Fine, fine."

She huffed and tore it from her eyes, her jaw dropping slightly at what was standing in front of her.

She merely stared. No words, no sounds, nothing.

I looked away, feeling a bit embarrassed that she obviously didn't like it. I cleared my throat and patted her shoulder. "What do you think?"

She didn't peel her eyes from the view, staring at the building. It was bigger than our apartment but smaller than the whole complex. In front, it had a beautifully decorated sign labeled 'Sweet Treats', although somewhat faded.

She simply gave me a kiss on the cheek and walked away.

 

----

 

I don't know what happened. I lost my job again after having them let go twenty other workers in my firm.

Not to mention that she'd left out of nowhere.

It was the first Sunday morning that I'd woken up and she wasn't there. I don't know where she went, I only hoped that she was okay. And that she'd find her way back to me.

She'd been gone for three weeks.

I couldn't set one foot in that kitchen, which was basically calling her name. I couldn't help but think that maybe, it was all my fault.

I scourged on fast foods and candy and anything but what was inside my fridge. I couldn't bring myself to. I thought I never would.

Then, as if on cue, I heard a knock at my door at a quarter to midnight. The same little lady stood there, wiping her eyes and refusing to look me in my face. "Can I borrow some sugar?"

For the first time in a while, I'd actually smiled. 

The moments I had experienced that night will forever be remembered. How I kissed her tears away and whispered to her everything I could to reassure her. We stayed awake for hours, holding each other and telling the other how much they actually loved them. And we finally fell asleep at around four in the morning with her last words being, "You've made it all worthwhile."

 

----

 

She sighed angrily and tapped her fingers across the marble counter, "It never ends! This time, they want a whole batch of cupcakes -- both chocolate and vanilla -- due tomorrow! I know I own a bakery, but I can't do everything."

"Dunno why they ask, your cupcakes need a little more flour in them."

She scowled, then hopped off her seat to give me a kiss. "Oh hush, you can't do any better."

When I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her again, she curved her lips into a smile. 

That smile had to be the best damn thing I could have ever tasted.

 

----

 

Most people's lives start when they graduate college and get a job and progress into the world. But not mine.

Mine started when she asked to borrow some sugar.

I'm sure of it.