“Why is it taking you so long to pick one?” Sehun asked, aggravated as Haru stares intently at the cakes in front of her, being indecisive. 

“Its so hard to choose,” she mumbled. “That’s the coconut cake,” she pointed, to a cake that looks like a snow ball with white frosting sprinkled all over it, “That’s tastes so good. This is the lemon cake. Carrot cake. Cheesecake,” she continued naming all the cakes, “That’s the red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting. This one is the chocolate cake with chocolate ganache frosting,” she paused, both of her hands on her hips, “I can’t pick.” She let out a sigh.

Sehun mimicked her sigh and laughed. “I’ll take all of them,” he said, to the lady at the counter. Both Haru and her let out a small gasp. “All?” the lady repeated. 

“Yes,”

Shocked into silence, Haru squinted incredulously and tugged Sehun’s arm lightly as the lady began to pack the cakes into boxes, “Are you crazy? We can’t finish them all.”

His eyebrows rose just a smidgen. His expressions were so understated. He gave her a closed mouthed smirk,  and Haru was left dumbstruck. 

//

“So which one do you want to eat first?” she asked, unboxing the cakes one by one, taking a peek before closing them back. 

“I don’t like cakes,” he answered from the couch, his hand gently petting one of her cat and the other holding a cup of coffee. 

“What?” Haru yelled from the kitchen. She walked hastily to the hall to look at him, “Then why did you buy all of them?” 

He enjoyed the storm of shock that flashed across her face. He had to admit, it was funny watching her. He blinked slowly, batting his eyelashes at her as he continued to pet her cat. 

She inhaled sharply, and cast him a suspicious look. “I’ll get fat,” she complained. He nodded as he sip on his coffee. 

“My clothes won’t fit me any more,”

He nodded again. This time, she could see his smile – it didn't flash at the corners for a second, but remained, widening just a little in appreciation. He inclined his head towards her, wordlessly blinking his eyes.

“I don’t think you’re listening to me,” she muttered, but with that strain of affection he'd become so used to. She her heel, heading into the kitchen as he let his head fall back against the back of the couch, watching her upside-down as she disappeared from view. She then came back with a piece of chocolate cake on a plate and slouched beside him. 

“Do you want to watch a movie?” she asked, moving the fork into as she leaned her head on his shoulder. He glanced at his side, blinking. She didn't notice, stuffing another mouthful of cake and going on a tirade about a long list of movies she find interesting. Sehun realized that this was one of the  few times in their acquaintance with each other that she'd willingly touched him.

He wondered if she realized she'd just treated him like a boyfriend just then. Surely she didn't; for as smart as she was, she seemed to have several gaps in her awareness. And if she had realized it, she probably would have gone red, like she usually did whenever she found herself doing something unexpected.

“So, is this okay?” Her voice cuts through his mind, and he raised his eyes at hers. 

She was the remnant cake from the fork, as she raised her eyebrows at him, her laughing eyes demanding a response.

Blinking, he said, “No, not really.” Then he eyed the screen to see what she ended up choosing. “I’m not watching the stupid vampire movie,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. 

“It's Twilight and they're fun to watch!” She punched his arm, making him spill some of his coffee, forcing an indignant shout out of him.

//

Haru took a wet tissue to wipe out the black smudge of her eyes. She retried the cat eye look that she saw probably at least a 10 times in a YouTube tutorial but it didn’t seem to turn out well. After several unsuccessful attempts, she hummed in joy when she managed to get a presentable look.  She took her bright red lipstick and smeared it all across her lips and the final touch was the shimmering gold eyeshadow she applied on her eyelids. 

She stood in front of the mirror, “I look absolutely ridiculous, “ she laughed. Her morning felt so boring and mundane that she decided to play with all her makeup to experiment different looks on her. None of it worked and she thought she looked rather stupid. 

She walked out of her room to do the laundry and gasped mentally at the pile of dirty clothes she collected. She played the playlist of songs in her hand phone at top volume while doing her chores. A tradition Haru employed since she started living alone. It honestly didn't seem right to clean the house without some music roaring in the background.

Her favourite song was playing by the time she got around to mopping the kitchen floor. Unable to help herself, she slid across the floor a few times in her bare feet as she sang along to the song, dancing as stupidly as she could. It was good to look stupid every once in a while, provided you were alone in your own house.

 Which was exactly what she was thinking about when she looked up mid-slide and saw Sehun staring at her in bemusement from the kitchen doorway.

 With a yelp, she crashed into the counter and fell to the floor, her arms pin wheeling a bit as she tried to catch herself. No luck. There she was, in her kitchen on the wet floor, wearing baggy clown pajama bottoms and a t-shirt that were getting soaked through from the soapy mop water. With her hair flying every which way.

In bright red lipstick and a ton of eye liner. 

 “Sehun!” she sputtered, shoving her hair out of her face. It got in a bit, and she spat it out from between her lips. Hands hooked beneath her armpits and hauled her up to her feet, and she yelped a bit.

She carefully penguin-walked out of the kitchen and stumbled to her hand phone, turning the music off.

When she turned around, he was back in the kitchen doorway again, looking at her like she'd gone mental. Looking a little amused, he asked, “I didn’t know you could dance.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her face go bright red. “No,” she sighed. “You could have made some noise,”

“I did,” he defended, “You didn’t hear me,”

 She looked down at her baggy clothes and scowled, her hands on her hips. “I didn’t know you’re coming today.” She shifted uncomfortably, aware of the huge wet spot on the back of her pants. “I was cleaning. There's no point in getting all dressed up to clean.”

“And that?” He pointed at his own lips. 

Haru cursed, rubbing furiously at her lips. “I bought a new lipstick. I wanted to see how it looked on me,” she explained. 

Then she groaned. He gave her a pitying look. “This is what you do on your free day? Clean and do laundry? While listening to someone... scream and wail?”

Her embarrassment was quickly morphing into curiosity.  “Did you come here for a reason?”

 “I wanted to see if you wanted to get lunch,” he said, looking around the flat, being positively delighted to be there, playing house with her. It made her heart thump a little harder than normal, and she felt herself starting to smile in spite of the embarrassment. 

“Let's go,” he said, striding towards her. He didn't stop, though, and she stumbled a few steps back before he pinned her against the back of the couch, his hands planting against the fabric on either side of her. He leaned in, rubbing his nose against hers, “You smell awful,”

Grumbling, she pushed him at his chest and heard him chuckle as she head for her room. “I'll take a shower first.” She heard suppressed mirth behind her, and belatedly recalled that she'd fallen bottom-first into mop water. She hurried into her bedroom and slammed the door, mortified.

**

“Let me choose the place, today,” she said, as she returned to the living room. She pulled out a soft brown dress, an almost creamy sort of color, like over-milked coffee. Sehun had cleaned up the mop water and her kitchen floor was dry, and she blinked at it, wondering if she should thank him for the considerate gesture. He was pretending not to notice, so she decided not to. “I know a great place in Kangwon.”

 He frowned. “Kangwon?"

“Yes,” she said.

 His expression shuttered. “Cheap food,” he guessed, flatly.

 “Yes,” she said, slowly. “There's a lot more options out there. It's a big place.” Sensing his hesitance, she closed the distance between them. “Please? You'll like it.”

His jaw tensed, and she stopped wheedling, chewing on her lip as she waited. She knew him well enough by now to know that the more she pushed, the more stubborn he'd become.

“Fine,”

//

They stepped out of the shop with their Korean sandwich, all wrapped up and ready to go. It was sort of nice out, and Haru had reasoned that they didn't have many more days left of sunny evenings; she could already feel the days getting noticeably shorter. The sun was setting when she plopped down on a bench in a little park, containing only a duck pond and the requisite bench for throwing bread. He sat beside her, unwrapping his sandwich carefully and eying it for a moment, trying to decide the best method of attack.

Sehun had gone the “I Want Everything” route with the sandwich, and right now it was sitting about four inches thick, ready to fall to pieces the very second he put his teeth to it. Haru, wise to the ways of the food, had a much more manageable lunch. She took a bite as he did, and heard him let loose a muffled curse.

 Smiling, she glanced at him from the corners of her eyes as he struggled to nibble the sandwich back into shape.

 After swallowing, she said, “You know, I don't think I've ever seen you look so undignified.” The image was just delectable.

“I don’t like eating using my hands,”  Sehun informed her, confirmed what she'd long suspected. “I prefer using a knife and fork to it.”

“Which would look just about as ridiculous as picking it up.”

He shrugged. 

She reached up, using her thumb to wipe away some sauce that was stuck near the corner of his mouth. He froze up a bit at the gesture, and then smiled slyly at  her. For some reason, his smile made her face heat, and she quickly turned her attention back to her own food. 

“I’ve got some here too,” he pointed at the other corner of his mouth, and it looked like he purposely got sauce on him.

“Remind me of why I put up with you, again?” she asked,  sighing. 

“I have a list,” he assured her.

“Oh, dear God,” she whispered, in horror. “He has a list. And why does he have a list?”

He shrugged. “In case you ever asked me that question. Number one--”

“Omo.”

“Number one. I'm extremely handsome, and you're awfully attracted to me,” he pointed out, in the same matter-of-fact tone he'd use to discuss the weather. “Number two, I'm both  amazing and fantastic,”

“Alright, wait just--”

“Number three, I'm very funny, and I make you laugh, which I've read somewhere that it makes someone very attractive,” he said, with a kind of restrained glee.  “Number four, you like me,” he said, almost accusing, his eyes narrowing. “You think I'm fun to be with and you can't imagine a life without me. And,” he stopped and looked her in the eyes determinedly, “You love me," he said slowly, wonderingly. Then with greater certainty, "By God, you love me." 

“Who said?”

“Well, too bad, Kim Haru. You're stuck with me. Not for a few decades, not for centuries. You're tied to me forever.”

//

They came back home with a sigh of relief. "You know, it's pretty late," he said, glancing at the door. But he didn't make a move towards it.

"What time is it?"

"Half eleven."

“Oh my God," she sighed, stretching. "I should set my alarm before I forget." She stood from the couch, and watched him fidget a bit, his hands in his pockets. He looked like he wanted to be with her, and he's done so many times but she didn’t want to make that as a habit. 

She turned and looked at his face, and he looked painfully shy.

She started towards her bedroom, walking past him where he stood, frozen, in the living room. She made it halfway down the hall before she stopped, turning around. A second ago, her intent had been to just let him make the decision, but she felt a flicker of guilt, knowing that he'd just leave. But that was also sort of what she wanted him to do. It wasn't that she didn't feel comfortable around him, but many of her neighbors gave her a shrewd look when they started to notice him staying at her house for most of the times.    

Haru snuck a glance at the living room. He was right where she'd left him, his shoulders sloping down a bit in defeat. He looked so utterly lost, and she cursed silently to herself. She wouldn't be able to leave the night like this. The guilt would eat her alive. "Well?" she asked, squinting at him sleepily. 

He looked at her, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown.

When he just stood there, she huffed, "Are you coming, or not?"

The question came out annoyed, almost painfully so, but the frown dropped from his face immediately at his expression lit up a bit. It almost hurt to watch him get so happy over such a small concession. He jogged to catch up to her, his eyes lit up brightly.  

It gnawed on her as she curled up on her side, only to be joined seconds later by him crowding her against the edge of the bed, his arm wrapped around her. It continued to gnaw at her as he shifted to get comfortable, and she felt him breathe a sigh of relief against her shoulder blades.

**

The next morning, she woke tangled up in her sheets with Sehun pressed against her back.

Feeling a burning need to use the toilet, Haru tried to slip out unnoticed, but he roused a bit, made some grumpy, half-asleep noises, and then his arm became like a vise around her.

She turned to his side and saw him sleeping peacefully. He looked like an innocent child and Haru couldn’t help but to extend her fingers to touch his face. 

She traces his eyebrows so lightly, fearing that would wake him up. She then moved her hands to the bridge of his nose. She liked the sight of him sleeping, especially in quiet moments. She felt as if she crossing a thin line between dreams and reality. It’s tender; like time tying its shoes. 

She pulled her hand back softly, and gasped when his hand gripped her wrist as his eyes open shortly after. 

“Tell me this isn’t a dream,” he whispered, his voice a little hoarse from the sleep. 

“It's not,” She run her fingers along the veins in his hands. 

He touched her face with his palm, his thumb caressing her cheek, “There was a time nothing really mattered to me. But then I met you, and I felt like maybe I could make something more of my decision.' 

You.

For a moment, it's like Haru’s  looking at a different person, sitting in Sehun’s skin, one whose life is not as simple as that. He never told her that.

Just like that. Haru found it a little hard to breathe, for a moment. “You're not lying, are you?” she asked, suddenly, looking up at him as a frown tugged on her lips. “Do you really think that about me?”

He didn't answer her, and she didn’t need him too. Finally, she moved towards him and closed the last inch between them, her lips brushing over his, her eyes already closed. His eyes followed suit as he leaned into it a little. The kiss was chaste, close-mouthed, but he found that he didn't really mind it. 

She wasn't sure how long it had been when she finally pull away. She watched his eyes open, and half-expected on some visceral level that he'd . But he just smiled, kind of stupidly, his expression of surprised, repressed happiness making him look strangely unguarded. She wondered if she'd ever seen him look this open before. No, she decided. 

Not ever.

//

When Sehun got home, Haru was conked out of the couch and there were several book laying on the floor. The sound of the door opening wakes her up and she peered at him, sitting up. 

“Hi,” she yawned. Sehun smiled and placed a hand on her arm and leant down to place a quick kiss to her lips. The whole action seemed very domesticated to Haru. Like a husband greeting his wife at the door after he arrived home from work. 

Watching him get dressed, and the sound in the kitchen late in the evening; a slow hum of a song and his movements, picking things to eat. His movements are a little careless and overly familiar, like this was his place and not hers. 

Sometimes though, he lies down on her bed, or he leans on her bathroom door and watches her do her hair. She's stopped screaming at him about her being in a towel, she watches him watch her in the mirror. Folded arms, lean, slopes against her door and chatting to her in that bored drawl. He seems to be comfortable slinking around in her personal space, coercing her. Even her cat became so comfortable as if it felt safe with him. 

She scowled when she mentally recalled meeting his cat. 

She wanted to pet it, but it glared at her, and she wasn't sure if that was a yes, pet me  immediately or a no, how dare you assume I’ll let you to pet me. 

She decided to play it safe and extended her hand.  

He made a big show of ignoring it at first, but eventually, when her arm was beginning to tire from holding it aloft, he came closer, glaring at her steadily as Haru rubbed his head affectionately. 

After that first awkward period, though, things relaxed, and she discovered that being with Sehun wasn't as hard as she'd pictured it might be. In fact, it was amazingly easy, sometimes, something she rather thought could almost entirely be attributed to him. Although a hothead of epic proportions, Haru was still left occasionally breathless by the amount passion that could be found in a single person.

Cohabitation was something that required a lot of practice, all things considered. When one got used to living alone and doing whatever they wanted, suddenly having to think about this entirely new person seemed almost like more trouble than it was worth. However, as the days wore on, she found that she didn't mind Sehun’s presence overmuch, especially since he seemed to be in an almost remarkably chipper mood.

 It wasn't until a week later, that the cracks started to show when she realized he’s been spending his every of his nights with her. And the worst part was, she didn't know how to begin to bring this up without making him start shutting down and getting all pissy about it. 

And she realized, at that moment, this is what marriage feels like.

Damn it.