[CONTENTID1]Kindness and Kimchi-jigae [/CONTENTID1]

[CONTENTID2]"Just don't expect me to start being nice to you just because you've made me a cup of tea. You're still an ." [/CONTENTID2]

[CONTENTID3]

I'm near the cinema do you need a lift? 

Who is this? 

Chanyeol

Who the gave you my phone number? 

Baekhyun

I'm gonna kill him 

He said you'd be mad 

And that I could only use it for emergencies 

And not to tell you he was the one who gave it to me 

Now I'm DEFINITELY going to kill him 

Chill out. Do you want a lift or not? 

Not. 

It's raining. 

Fine. 

I'm parked outside the bakery :) 

***

Yeseul glared at the message on her mobile before dropping it unceremoniously into her bag, tugging on her jacket as she left the staff room. When she got into the lobby and saw the torrential downpour outside, she was suddenly relieved that Chanyeol texted. At least she wouldn't have to wait in the rain now, even though it came with the hefty price of being in a car with Chanyeol for twenty minutes. 

Nothing had happened since the art show. Yeseul wasn't sure if she should be relieved or suspicious, because with Chanyeol, one never knew what he had up his sleeve. He might start acting like the whole thing had never happened and go back to the way it was in the summer; or he might keep ignoring her. She'd asked him to keep trying, but she didn't know what that meant. It had just come out; drawn by her muddled thoughts, lingering frustration, and that disastrous little flutter. 

All she did know was that at this moment, she was furious with him, not to mention with Baekhyun. 

Yeseul did not give out her phone number. The only people who had it were ones she contacted regularly, people she spent time with outside of a group setting, and those she needed to talk to directly. Kyungsoo still didn't have her number, but she didn't have his either, and it had yet to be an issue. Although Kyungsoo had asked several time, Yeseul was holding out. She had a feeling that he, like Baekhyun, was the type to send constant messags. Yeseul was used to ignoring the guy by now, and adding Joonmyun to the mix would just cause unnecessary effort on her part. 

Yeseul spotted the silver vehicle parked outside the bakery as promised. She held onto her hood and ran across the street, wanting more than anything to be out of the rain. 

"How long have you had my phone number?" Yeseul demanded, the second she got into the passenger's seat. 

Chanyeol smiled widely. "Well hello, Yeseul, it's lovely to see you as well. You're welcome, by the way, for offering to give you a lift." 

"How long have you had my number?" she asked again, eyes narrowed. 

He pulled out from the curb, checking over his shoulder twice. "Calm down, Seullie, I've had it for months." 

"And you didn't think to tell me?" 

"No, because you'd get all stroppy about it like you are now," Chanyeol said calmly. "Like I said, Baekhyun gave it to me in case of an emergency." 

"I don't know what your definition of an emergency is, but picking me up from work doesn't really qualify." 

Chanyeol glanced over. "Would you like me to drop you off so you can walk, then? The bus isn't going to be round for at least twenty minutes and there isn't a shelter." 

"No," she huffed. "But I want you to delete my number. I don't like knowing you're able to ring me whenever you please." 

"I've had it for nearly a year and this is the first time I've texted you, Yeseul," Chanyeol reminded her. "I'm keeping it, okay? And put your seatbelt on." 

Yeseul heaved a sigh and clicked on her seatbelt, glaring at the rain pelting down on the windshield. The finicky wipers didn't appear to be doing much in the way of keeping the road ahead visible; the world was like a blurry version of itself. 

For a few minutes they sat in relative silence, with nothing but the university radio station (it was probably the most diversified station Yeseul had ever encountered, with shows that featured music from different cultures, genres, and decades) playing quietly. The night shows were usually some kind of deep electronica that Yeseul could never get into, but tonight it was a little more mellow, the perfect background noise for driving through the rain. If only her present company didn't manage to both infuriate and confuse her at the same time. 

"Why were you even at work so late anyway?" 

"I, um," Chanyeol frowned at the road ahead. "I had a meeting." 

"How exciting," Yeseul mocked. 

"It was a bit, yeah." 

"What, seriously? A meeting? What did you talk about then – the most efficient way to chop an onion without bursting into tears?" 

Chanyeol grinned, but kept his eyes on the road. "No, not that." 

"I hate guessing games," Yeseul informed him, folding her arms over her chest. "So if that's what you were planning on, it's not going to happen." 

"You never would have gotten it anyway," Chanyeol said. 

"Yah! I could have." 

"Not if you give up before you've even started." 

"Just tell me what the meeting was about, you ." 

Chanyeol grinned again. "Keen on knowing about my life, are we, Seullie? What's gotten into you?" 

"If you're going to be such a about it, I don't care," Yeseul replied, turning toward the window. For the moment, it seemed, he was back to his old self.

"So you cared before?" 

Yeseul groaned. "Oh for 's sake, Chanyeol." 

"All right, all right. Serious now," Chanyeol said as he made a left. "It's not totally set in stone just yet, but I've been given a promotion." 

"Oh," she breathed, turning to look at him. Chanyeol, who was apparently far more serious about his driving that she'd expected, given Baekhyun's stories about how Chanyeol's driving skills were awful (though the weather played a significant role in his constant attention on the road in this particular case), glanced at her quickly before returning his focus forward. Her reaction wasn't as contained as she would have liked it to be, and she felt the need to reaffirm her stance on all things Chanyeol-related: indifferent and with a hint of derision. "What are you doing now, then? Is there such things as an exclusive vegetable cook? You're good at chopping veg, I figure that's right up your alley." 

"You have a very limited idea of what my job entails," Chanyeol said. "Don't you?" 

"Do I look like I kow anything about all that cookery nonsense?" 

"You're too stubborn to try and learn. I'm cooking at your apartment all the time and neither you or Baekhyun have picked up a thing." 

"Don't take it out on poor Baek, he makes brilliant ramen." 

A muscle in Chanyeol's jaw jumped. "This matters to me, Seullie. I know we both make fun of each other's jobs but yours isn't really the same as mine in the end. This is my career – my life." 

Seeing him like this struck a chord with her. He was right; it was his life, and although she made fun of it out loud, she did respect him for knowing what it was he wanted to do and to have dropped out of university to pursue it. Yeseul couldn't say that for herself – she didn't know what she wanted. 

"Okay," she said, and his shoulders loosened. "So tell me what it is, if it's so ing important to you." 

She wasn't trying to make fun this time, but whenever they had 'proper serious' conversations, they tended to make Yeseul feel a whole variety of things she wasn't sure she was ready to be feeling. Or, rather, a variety of things she most certainly did not want to be feeling if they were directed toward Park ing Chanyeol. 

But he seemed to get that she was just being her usual disagreeable self, and managed to crack a smile. "You know how I used to work at a bakery?" 

"Only because you never shut up about it. Honestly, Chanyeol, bread isn't that exciting."

He furrowed his brow at her. "Anyway, they've asked me to to be the assistant to the pastry chef." 

"What does that mean?" she asked, mostly just to humour him. If it were important to Chanyeol, she at least had to respect that, even if she very much did not want to care. 

"Because of the size and reputation of the restaurant - and the hotel, obviously - we've got an executive pastry chef who designs the menu with the executive chef. She's in charge of high tea and all that as well. Her last assistant just got hired in Seoul to work for some posh bakery, so they've been looking for a replacement. There's other cooks that work under her who also do the regular food service, I've done a shifts myself, but her assistant works exclusively in the pastry kitchen and has a lot more responsibilities. I'd be working a lot more, especially in the mornings, but it's a brilliant opportunity. Working in that bakery when I was in school paid off, I guess." 

They were coming up to the apartment. "Am I the first one you've told about this?" she asked. 

Chanyeol nodded. 

"Why?" 

"I don't know," he shrugged. "You're the first person I've seen. It's not like this is something I'd tell people in a text. I probably wouldn't have mentioned it at all if you hadn't asked why I'd been at work late." 

He had a point. Chanyeol never talked about his job unless someone directly asked him about it. 

"Did you think I had a reason for telling you first?" he asked with a smirk. "Some ulterior motive?" 

Yeseul stared pointedly out the window. "You always have an ulterior motive." 

"But do you actually have a problem with me telling you?" 

"I guess not," she sighed. "Congratulations and all that." 

Chanyeol found a spot across the street and checked that the parking pass was on display, then the two of them got out and ran toward the building through the rain. Yeseul cast a sideways glance his way as she unlocked the front door and pushed it open with her shoulder. "Since you won't be working nights as often does that mean you'll actually be living at your own house?" 

"Actually, I have to be at work earlier with this new job, so I'll probably be staying here more," he replied, following her into the lift. 

"Wonderful," she sighed. 

Baekhyun was either asleep or not in, and Yeseul immediately announced she was going to bed. After she'd shut her bedroom door, she could still hear Chanyeol fumbling around in the foyer, removing his coat and shoes. He certainly didn't dress like he worked in a fancy restaurant, but she suspected he kept a change of clothes there rather than going around in a cook's uniform every day. He probably had to wear some God awful shoes that he wouldn't be caught dead in outside of the kitchen. She grinned at the thought of Chanyeol in loose