The One with Batter on the Ceiling, Bent Music Sheets and Birthday Gifts

Irene stared at the kitchen and then back at her fiancé, then back at the kitchen, and crossed her arms. She knew she had a puff of flour in her hair, and there was maybe some batter on her cheek, and okay, she doesn’t remember why she was holding a meat tenderizing hammer, but she panicked. She looked back at her fiancé with a shrug and finally answered his question, “Um… welcome home?”

Joonmyeon stared at the mess that was the kitchen in disbelief. It wasn’t as bad as he thought he had imagined it would look like in the event that the woman would have the desire to bake or cook, but he still questioned how some batter got on the ceiling and how she missed the trash can when she threw away egg shell. He stared at oven, where the timer told him he had less than ten minutes to figure out why she was making… whatever she was making. “Irene… why are you baking?”

She pouted, “Why do you sound so accusatory?”

“I’m not… I’m just confused. You said you were lousy in the kitchen.”

She rolled her eyes before setting the hammer down. “I said I’m a lousy cook. I can, however, bake a simple cake.”

The man raised a brow before approaching her and wiping the small splatter off her cheek with his thumb before tasting it. “Chocolate.”

She nodded, “Exactly. I just thought… Okay, so… It’s for you.”

Joonmyeon didn’t know if he should be scared or happy, but he couldn’t stop the smile on his lips. “For me? Why? Are you trying to poison me before we get married or something?”

Her brows hugged together as she stepped away from him, focusing on cleaning up the small pile of dishes in the sink, “Well, if you don’t believe my skills, then I’ll just throw it out.”

Chuckling, he immediately approached her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her cheek, “I’m kidding, Rene! I won’t make fun of your baking skills, okay? Okay? Just… how did you get batter on the ceiling.”

When she didn’t answer, promptly ignoring him, he chuckled in her ear before moving his hands to her waist. He could feel her tense just a bit, watching her falter in washing a spoon. He tilted to the other side and whispered in her ear. “Irene,” he warned, “I know you’re not trying to ignore me.”

She didn’t respond, placing the clean spoon on the drying rack next to her. Joonmyeon pushed some of her hair to sit on her other shoulder as his whispers vibrated along her spine. “I know you can’t ignore me if I do this,” he promptly placed a soft grazing kiss on her jaw, feeling her straighten against him. He clutched her sides firmly with his hand, moving his lips down to just below her ear, a spot he noticed made her drop the whisk she was cleaning next.

Joonmyeon felt a swelling of pride; as he rarely had the chance to make her feel ually frustrated on purpose like she had towards him on several occasions. He watched her squirm a little, trying to resist his soft lips against her skin. He especially loved it when she was biting her lip and swallowing because she wanted to deny giving away that yes, that was her weak spot; yet the soft huffs and choking sighs told him otherwise.

Then, as his hand traced soft lines on her chest, he whispered into her ear, catching her off guard a bit, “You know… I bet the cake would taste better off of you.”

She barked out a laugh, understanding the dirty thought before she wiggled out of his addictive grasp. “Okay, okay, you cheater! You win!”

Joonmyeon couldn’t stop laughing at her reaction, trying to pull her closer as she pulled back, only to succeed to pinning her against the counter once more before forcing a kiss on her lips. When he pulled back, she was giving him a slight glare before placing her hands on his chest and picking off lint on his shirt. “Since I won, I get a huge piece of cake, right?”

She rolled her eyes before giving him an annoyed smile. “You sure you don’t mind being poisoned?”

“I’m pretty confident your lips will be my antidote,” he smiled, watching expression become a pout, unmatched with her wiggling body, trying to push him back.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” he raised a brow, amused.

“That,” she blushed, not enjoying how he entertained he looked.

“I’m not doing anything,” he shrugged innocently.

“Yes, you are. Stop it.”

“And what is it exactly that I’m doing?”

“Making me fall in love with you more and more with your cheesy, dumb words.”

Surprised by the confession, Joonmyeon realized that he was the one who ever really made any verbal conformation that he was showing sighs that he, too, was falling in love with the woman. It didn’t help either that they both have an obviously great ual chemistry and similar-ish personalities. He knew she had some sort of romantic feeling towards him, judging by the sweet gestures, such as the random soft kisses during a heavy make out, and popping up at work when he least expected or even resting her head on his shoulder when he helped her with grading, but actually hearing those words from her made Joonmyeon feel a swelling of happiness build inside him as his teasing and amused smile became a chuckle. “Oh lord, that was just so cheesy.”

Irene let her hands fall from him as she crossed her arms. “Stop.”

He couldn’t. “I mean, I know I can be cheesy, but wow; am I rubbing off on you?”

She turned her head away, blushing. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

He shook his head before taking a step back, realizing his heart raced. “I don’t think you realize, Irene, that you normally don’t say stuff like that to me. Is this what it feels like to be on the receiving end of my words? I feels weird… like I want to cringe but keep it close to my heart.”

The woman pursed her lips before physically turning the man around and pushing him out of the kitchen. “Okay, you’re banned from stepping on this tile floor until I am done with everything.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll leave, but on one condition.”

He heard her irritation in her question.

He stopped himself, to turn around to face his beautiful fiancé he thought was still very much the description of a goddess as he stared at her, holding his hands up to cup her jaw and placing a tender kiss on her lips. “Don’t stop making me fall in love with you.”

Irene had a mirrored expression before replying back with a soft yes, feeling another tender kiss on her lips.

“And you have to tell me how you got batter on the ceiling.”

“Get out.”

Wendy woke up to the sound of banging on the door before there was a pause and a jingle of keys. Confused, she immediately sat up and stared at the ivory keys in front of her, confused as to why she was there. The unnamed composition she had diligently been ignoring was the only piece left in front of her, and it was like a tidal wave of emotions as she remembered why she fell asleep on the piano keys for the third night in row; for sleeping in her room felt bare and suffocating when she saw the two dips on the small bed.

It had officially been a week since that day where she felt all her worst nightmares come true. She doesn’t even remember how the week went between tears and the music, but she felt terrible and wanted everything to not hurt; such as her heart, her head, and the imprints of the keys on her cheek and hand. She also thought how the muscles aches could just go away.

She heard a deep sigh before she saw a few people stare at her, wondering what had happened to her. Not that she cared what they thought, but she felt uncomfortable with their eyes. Quickly assessing the situation, she threw the pieces of music into her canvas bag, not caring for once about which pieces were bent, torn, or crinkle. She could feel the pity in their eyes as she rushed out of the room, apologizing for staying in there for so long.

Among the few students that watched, she didn’t feel the familiar pair of eyes resting on her in her haste to escape.

Letting out a large yawn as sh