Moonbyul’s pov

It has been a week under the torture of this ice princess and yet I can’t figure out why I cannot find school record of Krystal Jung. That old man would not be giving me the wrong information and i did see her in school compound before for more than 1 time, 2 times to be exact.

Well, I must say she really look like a princess when she is on stage. I recalled the time when I shared a stage with her. Her dazzling aura, as if she is bornt to be on stage to shine.

I did not realise I was in my own little trance until my ears picked up someone at the front pouch opening the front door. As fast as lightning, I shut my lappy and hide it behind me, on the sofa at the living room aka my bed when the sky falls dark.

“Hello Krys.” I chirped and waved my right hand.

She looked at me motionlessly. Her mesmerising cat eyes. Does other feel butterflies in their stomach as well?

After 2 seconds, she strolls to kitchen as if nothing had happen.

What!!! After all I have done for her, she still treat me as transparent? Can’t she just wave back or at least a little smile?

“Where is my dinner?” the princess growls like a hungry bear, while she drags the dinner chair making the screeching sounds from the kitchen.

This this this princess…

I was about to grumble more but can’t help to pull a loopside smile. Well at least she knows my existence and requests for food from me.

I am going to make her drool for me… er… my food.

“Kosher salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Canola oil

Olive oil” I deliberately utters the ingredients slowly.

“What are you cooking?” she questions.

Yes! I have successfully made her curious about me … er.. my food.

Ignoring her, I continue, “This weight is just nice. about 3/4- to 1-inch thick.”

“You are making steak tonight?!?” She screams excitedly. Unable to contains her burning desire to know, she pops next to me to see me ..er.. the main ingredient.

She smells nice. A faint green tea smell. That makes me feel joyful.

Still pretending to disregard her, I mutters loud enough for her to hear, “Maybe I should made it well done.”

“NO! Make it medium raw!” She roars as if she has not being eaten for days.

“Well Done. I like it that way.” I parrot, still not looking at her direction.

“YAH~” She lost it, with her hands on my right elbow, turns me to face her with great strength and repeat her order in authoritarian mode. “MEDIUM RAW!”

“Oh Hi Miss Krystal!” I waves to her again. I know I look like an idiot but I don’t care.

She stares at me with widen eyes for a bit, her eyes ping-ponging left and right, guessing on what I want. Her beautiful brown obs. Something that many will fight to witness especially at such a close distance.

“Fine fine. MoonByul-ish, I want to eat my beef steak in medium raw.” She groans and blows her fringe in defeat.

“Well Done. I like it that way.” I repeat myself and gawk at her.

“YAH! YAH! YAH!” She is fuming angrily, both hands swinging in the air violently. But to me, I have only one word to describe her. Cute!

I stood rooted to the ground expressionlessly with my eyes still fixated on her.

What has changed? My attitude towards her? I believe so. After I heard from Victoria, her manager, who happened to be my friend while I was doing business in China some time back, she told me Krystal has a traumatic experience with unfamiliar people, but deep down she is really a kind person who cares about the people around her and also the animals. The performance sh