He was sitting on a stern black stall, talking lazily through his phone, with his dark eyes locked at the back of a dark-haired woman moving her feet here and there on the other side of the counter. His other hand was knocking its fingers on the yellow counter, a sign she knew that he was not concentrating. She chuckled at herself. She had no clue why she knew this guy too much.

          “She’s busy making food, you want to disturb her?” Was all she heard from him. She spun around only to mouth something that only him could figure out because after she finished whispering, he nodded in understand.

            “She said she’ll call you later after she has done her business,” He said, “I know, I know, oh my God, why are we having this conversation again, Mom?” He rolled his eyes in annoyance. After a few minutes, a solid stuff was heard to be tossed to the table by someone, along with a heavy sigh that came along after that.

            “She likes you that much?” He shook his head in disbelief. She did not respond, instead, she pushed a considerate amount of air out of silently.

            “You laughed?” Apparently, the sound she made appeared to be a laughter to his hearing.

Placing the knife down to the counter, she looked up, “If you consider exhaling as laughing, then I did.”

He snorted lightly before pulling his hands in front of his chest. She resumed her doing and he watched her in silence. She had her hair in a messy bun (which was a a quite a sight to see for him). Never did he see her in a plain and tired face just like now. He even could see some strands of hair sticking out on the side of her hairline.

He also noticed that she did not put on an apron and he did not know why. The kitchen was filled with the sound of knife being slammed against the chopping board. He rested his left elbow on the table before landing his head against the palm, dead bored.

           “I don’t know, either. There are times when I really want to ask her, why she picked me, when she could have another, but who am I to question that?” She responded.

His eyebrows twitched upward, “Tell me how she succeeded on persuading you to actually accept this? Have you imagined a life with someone like me? You’ll be stuck with me like... for a long time.”

She stopped at the last line spoken. She questioned him for using the ‘long time’ line  instead of ‘forever’. She shook her head shortly just to have the thought fade away, and it took at least five seconds for her to answer his question for she was busy controlling her heart. She rubbed her hands against the hanging napkins, before she pursed her lower lip inside.

          “Rather than tricky, it was funny,” She chuckled a bit, “Jongin, do you even know how your mother got married to your father? Do you know how old she was?” She asked excitedly that it made him furrow his forehead.

          “I don’t like guessing, just tell me.” He growled.

She rolled her eyes. Typical Jongin.

         “She was twenty when she accepted the proposal that your father’s family offered her. She just finished her vocational school and was clueless about the idea of marriage in such age.” Huisoo explained, leaning her front against the counter.

            “Oh, same here,” He interrupted, “Can we skip this story while we move to your reason why you want this marriage things?”

She glared, “You want me to tell you or not?”

            “Jesus, why are you so sensitive?” He retorted, “Alright then.”

She sighed, losing the interest to elaborate