Namjoo about died when he looked at her curiously before goofily smiling when he saw the bowl in her hands.

Her heart beat a little faster and Namjoo had to look away to calm herself.

Several minutes later she was seated at the table again as he warmed up the food for her. She watched him pull out the boiled chicken from the fridge and heard her stomach grumble noisily. If he heard he didn’t react. Gosh, she was so embarrassed.

All she could do was revel in the food he was setting in front of her. The urge to pick up her spoon and eat without waiting for him surged through her powerfully. Namjoo bit her lower lip to restrain herself. She should be ashamed but she couldn’t help herself.

Jongin was a good cook. Her father would approve. The thought had her gushing unbelievably.

“Sorry, I should’ve woken up earlier to make something fresh,” he apologized sitting down.

Namjoo flushed.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked.

Namjoo recalled the damp towel and wanted to turn into a puddle. Self-conscious that he had taken care of her last night. She didn’t know whether to be mortified or humiliated.

“I’m…ok…” Namjoo quietly uttered dipping her spoon into the chicken broth.

“That’s good.” He smiled.

Namjoo’s eyes darted away to keep him out of view. Edgy, she found it difficult to stomach his food. She needed to find a way to escape but more than that was she indebted to him now? Nearly chewing her thumb, Namjoo instead grabbed her glass of water and chugged it.

Her nerves tingled confused whether she needed to continue being embarrassed when Jongin began clearing the dishes after they finished everything. As the sink water began running she wondered whether she should chip in a helping hand. Should she offer her help now or wait until he finished scrubbing the first batch of dishes?

God, she was so fidgety she couldn’t think straight. Namjoo gulped and fumbled with her fingers as she stood by the table awkwardly. He should ask her for help she quietly chided, then she’d have something to do. Why leave her standing for nothing?

She pressed her lips together and observed his back. Noticing at last that he wasn’t in his usual get up. Suit and ironed pants. He was wearing just a regular t-shirt and sweats. Growing hot neck down, Namjoo dug her thumb nail into her finger and looked away. It was sinking in faster now. She was in his home. His home, the most private of all places. Actually, his bedroom was the most private and she had woken up in his bed.

Her face grew hot. Now she really needed to dig her own grave. How could she ever look him in the eye again?

Namjoo wanted to whack herself, but the ringing of the doorbell brought her consciousness to the fore. She glanced to Jongin busy at the sink.

Without thinking, she immediately walked toward the door needing to do something. “I’ll get that.”

Too late she thought, sounding as if the home was also hers. Hand already touching the doorknob she twisted and pulled it open. Coming face to face with a familiar pretty woman she’d seen in the lobby and yesterday at work.

Namjoo blanked barely hearing Jongin quickly coming up behind her. Mina’s expression was fast to turn spiteful. Shoving her way in she forced Namjoo to the side. Everything was happening so fast in the spur of the moment Namjoo couldn’t gather her senses. Then her eyes went wide when she heard a loud smack. The silence that followed echoed even louder.

Stunned, Namjoo felt like gripping onto her chest, lost and confused even more than when she had been alone with Jongin.

Her shoulders sprang up surprised when Jongin’s hand touched the small of her back. “You should go.”

She glanced at him then out the door and quietly slipped out of his apartment watching the door close.

֎֎֎֎֎

Morning ruined, Jongin felt Mina her finger into his shoulder. “So that’s it? That’s why?” She demanded. “You left me for some other woman?”

Grabbing her hand, he lowered it. “I never said that.”

“Then explain to me what I just saw!” She screamed into his face.

Jongin in a breath. At last he decided he didn’t need to say anything. Why explain himself? Mina wouldn’t understand. She just wanted to hear her side of the story.

“I broke up with you but not because I’m seeing someone else,” Jongin calmly stated.

“Liar!”

Jongin had to bite down on his teeth. “I don’t know, Mina, what you want me to say to make this clear to you.”

“Then why did you leave me?” Mina quietly asked, her eyes welling up with emotion.

“I told you.”

“No, not that,” Mina shook her head. “I said we could get married, but not now.”

Jongin wanted to throw his arms out. “It’s not hard to grasp the point, Mina. I want a family, you don’t.”

“I never said I wouldn’t give you one!”

“Because you don’t want to!” Jongin raised his voice because he had said it one too many times.

Enraged, Mina sternly stared at him. “So what? Is that woman going to give you the family you want? Did she say she’d be a slave to your mother’s bidding? Is that why she was here?”

Jongin’s lips parted. Then steeling himself, he warned, “Don’t pull my mom or anyone else into this, Mina. This is between you and me.”

She scoffed. “You’re saying your mother had no part in coercing you to break up with me? I don’t believe it, Jongin.”

“Don’t, Mina.”

“I don’t care about your mom or what she thinks about me,” Mina glowered. “I thought you cared about me like I cared about you.”

He needed to massage his head. The frustration was too overwhelming. He just couldn’t get through to her.

“We’re not over until I say we are,” Mina held her chin up. Attitude doing a three-sixty she touched his cheek with her fragile fingers, “Sorry for hitting you. I got angry in the spur of the moment.”

Jongin stepped back. “Mina…”

She cut him off. “Fine, you can stay here in the meantime, but I’d like it if you don’t just let anyone come into your home. After all,” she touched his chest, “you’re still mine.” Turning away she opened the door and grinned coyly, “Her name’s Namjoo, right? I’ll make sure to tell her you said bye.”

The door closed before he could take another breath. Throwing his back with a groan, Jongin wanted to kick at the ground but instead turned back to stare at the dishes sitting in the sink.

It took a total of twenty minutes to do the dishes, wipe down the table, and change for work. By the time he slipped into his shoes he hurried out of his apartment only to pause again. His morning took another quick turn when Namjoo stepped away from the wall clutching onto a tiny bag. Timorous, she bit her lower lip and looked up at him then away.

“Uh…your face…” she mumbled.

“Sorry?”

Gathering some courage, she fully lifted her head up to clearly say, “Your face is red.”

Jongin reached up to touch his stinging cheek. He hadn’t had a chance to look at himself closely in the mirror, so he hadn’t realized the impact of Mina’s slap.

“Can I come in?” Namjoo shyly asked.

“Oh…sure.” He moved back to make space for her.

Closing the door, he turned to see her standing by the table resonating an air of awkwardness. If she was a little chirpier this might not be so difficult he thought. Seeing her like this made him feel fretful.

“Can you sit?” Namjoo asked.

“Oh…yea.” Moving over he pulled a chair out and sat. He watched Namjoo put her small bag down and listened to the contents rattle as she dug through it.

“Sorry, my colors are a little pale,” she explained then quickly added, “but it should be ok.”

Pulling a chair over Namjoo sat down opening the makeup compact in her hand. It looked identical to the stuff Mina kept on her vanity. The only difference was that Mina never let him touch them. Once he’d rearranged her makeup after cleaning and dealt with her wrath afterward. She didn’t speak to him for three days.

He felt Namjoo’s modest fingers touch his jaw to shift his face, lean forward a slight notch, and went to work. He couldn’t gulp as his eyes traveled over the white fridge to the counters. Stiffening, he listened to his heart beat pushing the blood through his veins. Plucking out a bit of courage he looked at her appearing concentrated. Observing the shade of her face, the smooth texture of her creamy skin. She didn’t wear eyelash extensions like Mina. Her lips were somewhat dry but the most vivid thing he noticed was that she smelled good.

“Don’t move, ok?” She advised. “I’m almost done.”

Darting his eyes away he in a breath as a bit of him quivered. A few more pats and Namjoo moved away. No longer looking at him she closed her compact and stuffed it back into her makeup pouch. Jongin stole a glance watching her refined movements before she stood. Pushing the chair back she clutched the pouch close to her body. Rising to his feet as well he looked at her curiously.

“Sorry,” she apologized, “I didn’t mean to cause a misunderstanding between you and your girlfriend.”

He flushed. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Namjoo’s eyes averted embarrassed. “Oh…well, anyway, I’m sorry about what happened.”

He smiled. Her innocence amused him. “It’s nothing to be sorry about.” Noticing her outfit, he commented, “It looks like you’re going to work.”

“I feel better,” Namjoo timidly glanced at him. “Thanks. I enjoyed your food. It was delicious.”

His grin grew somewhat wider.

“Then…I’ll go,” she said. Awkwardly turning she started toward the door and disappeared outside.

֎֎֎֎֎

Namjoo dashed up the stairs to her floor with her heart racing wildly. She couldn’t believe she’d done what she just did. She was insane. She had touched Jongin’s face and she had actually gone back to his place. Every cell of her body tingled.

Shutting the door when she arrived in her apartment, Namjoo panted. Gripping onto the pouch harder she closed her eyes. She was absolutely losing her mind. The fever must have burned her ability to rationalize away.

Setting her head back on straight she put her makeup pouch away and grabbed her purse. At least she was full even if she felt a bit nauseous. Clearing a few times she left the building and drove to work. When she returned home in the evening there was a bag hanging off her doorknob.

Looking around the empty hallway puzzled she wondered who may have dropped it off or if the receiving person wasn’t her but someone else. Unhooking the bag off the knob she peered inside to see a couple cartons of packed homecooked food. A yellow post-it peeked out at her. Pulling it off the container she read: Please give to Kim Namjoo.

Turning around she gazed left and right down both hallways. Who would have dropped it off?

Heading in she set the contents out onto her kitchen table. The sender should have at least signed their name. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of the chicken curry and side of fresh rice. She thought it looked like it had just been made. Grabbing a spoon, she dug in savoring the taste. When she was halfway through the meal she thought about the dinner Jongin had cooked for her yesterday.

The spoon nearly dropped from her hand. Staring down at the food on the table she refused to believe it. Jongin wouldn’t… He couldn’t have…

Gulping, she continued to stare down at the food. Felt her heart pound a little harder, a little louder.

When she saw him in the elevator the following morning his smile gave him away, and Namjoo wished he wasn’t making her feel like a young girl again.

֎֎֎֎֎

Getting out of the car Mina glanced up at the large structure towering over her. She hadn’t meant to come here again, but she had to or else her mind wouldn’t be at peace. Walking into the building she walked up to the front desk.

“Can you tell me where Kim Namjoo’s office is?” Mina asked.

“Do you have a prior appointment?” the lady questioned.

“No, but there’s a problem with the makeup I requested. I would like to speak to her.”

“Then I can transfer you over to the head of inventory department…”

“No, I want to talk to Namjoo.” Mina insisted. “Please.”

After several minutes of impatient waiting in the visitor’s lounge, Namjoo arrived around the corner with her long hair pouring over her shoulders. When she recalled that Jongin liked woman with long hair disdain filtered through her heart.

“I must be bothering you,” Mina politely rose to her feet.

“No,” Namjoo formally replied and took the single loveseat in front of her.

“I ordered coffee, would you like a cup?” Mina wondered.

“I’m not having coffee recently,” Namjoo replied. Setting a manila folder down in front of her she explained, “I dug through the inventory files. These are the makeup you requested that we’ve charged your company for. You said you wanted to make changes.”

“Ah…well,” Mina leaned forward to look at the charted information then leaned back into her seat, “I kind of changed my mind.”

Namjoo’s brows slightly twitched.

Mina allowed her eyes to drift over Namjoo before coyly smiling, “I see you have nice legs. Have you thought about modeling? I could talk to someone for you then perhaps you wouldn’t have to sit behind a desk all day long.”

“Excuse me…”

“Oh…I forgot, Jongin’s mother wouldn’t like that.” Mina tapped her fingers against her thigh. “Have you met her?”

Namjoo pressed her lips together. “Look here…”

Cutting her off again, Mina continued, “She’s very picky with what kind of woman she wants for her son. If you want to meet her, I sincerely wish you good luck. I just wanted to give you my regards.”

Namjoo morbidly breathed a laugh, “I think we have a misunderstanding here, Miss Ra.” Standing, she looked down on Mina, “The next time you want to loiter around, make sure you call ahead. I’d appreciate it if you want to talk about a man with me that we draw a line on where we each stand.” Namjoo about walked away then stopped, “Oh, and my desk job is just as important as your contract for modeling, but I get paid hourly which makes my time especially important. Don’t thank me for coming down. I hope you have a good day.”

֎֎֎֎֎

Coolly walking off, Namjoo cussed under her breath. Unable to understand why she was the source of a problem suddenly. Who the hell was Ra Mina anyway?

To drive the incident off Namjoo drove home, abandoned her car, and decided to go for some fresh air. Enjoying the distinct breeze as she walked toward the convenience store. She wanted a lot of junk food suddenly. The mere thought of her continuing weight gain settled on her shoulders but she quickly pushed it aside when she walked into the air-conditioned store.

Food, food, food her mind chanted. Grabbing a basket, Namjoo grabbed soda and chocolate milk. Diving into the snack aisle Namjoo browsed through the selection of chips, grabbed the first thing she saw randomly and moved onto the chocolate aisle. Pocky sticks screamed out at her. When she spotted banana chips her stomach wailed. Immediately she reached for it and watched another person’s hand snatch the same bag. Gripping onto the bag tighter to claim it she turned to frown at her competitor.

Namjoo’s grip loosened when she recognized Jongin. He appeared surprised, too. Catching him off guard she snatched the bag off the shelf. Her heart raced when he breathed an amused laugh and watched him take two bags down from the shelf. Embarrassment downed her when she realized the entire shelf was stocked.

“You like banana chips?” He asked. “They’re my favorite.”

Her heart thumped faster. She didn’t usually go for banana chips. She liked shrimp chips, but the sudden craving for it felt like a tidal wave surging through her. Damn baby.

“They…they’re ok,” she quietly muttered then turned to hurry toward the checkout feeling embarrassed again when she realized her entire basket was loaded with junk.

After paying for her fare she quickly left praying Jongin still needed to do more shopping. To her luck she heard the bell hanging on the door ring as it opened and his footsteps scurried after her.

“Here,” he handed her one of the banana chips bag he’d bought. “I bought it for you.”

Her face grew hot. She couldn’t stop herself by the time her hand reached out for it. Mentally chiding herself she clutched onto the bag as they walked back together.

“Was the curry the other day ok? I worried if I overcooked it.”

Her heart raced faster. “It was good.”

She couldn’t look at him. Oh God…he had cooked for her. Namjoo had never dreamed of this happening before.

“I rang a few doors. Only a few people answered, so I hope I found the right person,” Jongin admitted. “Glad it got to you.”

“It’s six-forty,” Namjoo spoke. When he looked at her confused she added, “I live in apartment six-forty.”

“I’ll remember that,” he grinned. Namjoo’s heart continued skipping unhealthy beats before she managed to return a smile as they walked home together.

***hehehhehehe she told him where she lives and he's buying stuff for her now \^^/