Thanks to the training given by the professional caretaker, Sehun could now manage most of his work by himself. Changing into the chequered pajama pants and white T-shirt she had bought for him, (ugh...such a fashion terrorist this girl is), he walked into the kitchen with the aid of the crutch.

“Is dinner ready?”

“In a minute.” Mirae lifted two plates of glass noodles off the kitchen counter, and brought them to be placed in front of him on the dining table. And she hurried back to bring the side dishes, not noticing the hidden smile on his lips at the satisfying look of the meal.

“Can you manage using the chopsticks?”

She was considerate enough to ask that, and Sehun nodded in reply. “Tell me if you need any help okay?”

Nodding in reply, Sehun starting having his dinner. Few minutes into the meal, after trying out the main dish and almost all the side dishes, he looked up at the girl with a smirk. “You’re quite the cook aren’t you?”

She looked at him, eyes rounded in surprise. “Is it good? Whoa... that’s a first.”

“Well, it’s a hell lot better than my mom’s cooking. Normally her pasta is over cooked, her cucumber salad is too salty and her grilled fish lack seasoning, and her sauces are nothing but chilli. Gosh this is way better.” He shoved in another mouthful of glass noodles.

Mirae laughed out loud, making the guy turn his eyes back on her. “You sound exactly like Professor Oh. He says the same things about his wife you know, that she’s a really bad cook but he has no choice but to bear with whatever she does.”

Obviously we sound the same... because both of us are talking about the same bad cook.

“Professor really loves his wife. He’s still swooning over her like newly weds...it’s cute sometimes.” The girl chuckled, reaching for more chilli paste.

“Cute to the level I can’t still enter their room at night without knocking.” He muttered under his breath, stuffing his mouth with the last piece of eggroll.

“What?” the girl asked, but he shook his head, pointing at the empty dish. “No more egg rolls? They’re delicious.”

* * * *

“Hey wife material! Don’t you have any fruit juice? Anything other than citrus stuff?”

Sehun asked, lazily lying across the sofa and switching on the TV. Mirae opened her refrigerator, scanning it for the grape juice she recalled having in there. “I have a name you know... it’d be nice and polite if you just use it.” She huffed, grumpily filling two glasses with the juice.

“But you are wife material.” He shrugged from the couch. “You can cook...you keep your house clean...and you’ll probably even do laundry for me... so you are definitely wife material.”

“Drink this and go to sleep.” Mirae came into the living room, and held his glass of juice in front of his face. “Since you are sick, I’m gonna be considerate and give you my bed for the time being.”

“Then what about you?”

“I can sleep here.”

She pointed at the couch.

“Will you be alright?”

She shrugged in reply. “I fall asleep here most of the time. It doesn’t matter.”

“Thank you, wife material.”

“Yah! You almost sounded nice until that last word!” Mirae stomped her foot on the carpet, before sitting beside the guy who was now straightening up. “Go to bed without disturbing me when I watch my drama.”

He remained still, pouting at her.

“I also wanna watch that.”

After criticizing the ‘cliché plot’ and ‘unrealistic dialogues’ of her favourite drama for more than thirty minutes, Sehun finally started dozing off, stretched out on the couch with his injured leg resting on the coffee table before them. After a few minutes since he stopped arguing and bickering, she felt his head press against her side, the guy snuggling to her side in sleep.

She looked down at him, feeling her face heat up more as he snuggled closer.

HELP.

My stomach’s acting weird... is it gastritis or what?

Trying her best to fight the butterflies felt inside, she softly patted his cheek. “Sehun-ssi,”

“Sehun-ssi,”

“Hmm?”

A sleepy hum.

“Let’s go to bed. You’re uncomfortable here.”

He woke up, rubbing his face sleepily as she helped him onto his feet.

Okay that’s adorable.

She helped him into her room, and he lied down on the mattress uncomfortably with the two casts and bandaged torso. And she stood up to leave the room,

Only to be held back as he grabbed at her wrist.

“Can you just... my head or something?”

HELP.

“Why? Does it hurt? You didn’t have any bad injuries on your head as did you?” she asked, turning back to him in concern. And he shook his head, closing his eyes.

“Have insomnia.”

“Oh...”

“Need sleeping pills or need omma to caress my head. And these injuries are adding to it these days.”

Without much thinking, she was sitting on the bed by his side. “Fine... just because you’re sick okay?”

“Okay.” He closed his eyes, a small smile dancing on his lips.

She started running her fingers through the soft black hair, caressing gently at a slow rhythm.

“Good night...wife material.”

* * * *

“We had a problem last year in the final clinical test. I mean... Professor Oh had problem. The drug did work through all trials giving patients a survival change of sixty percent. But he needed it to be perfect enough at least with a survival percentage of seventy five. He tried developing further for about three months, and eventually gave up. He’s a total weirdo sometimes. You might already know that.”

“Yeah...very well.” Mirae nodded. “What a waste... so did your company develop it further?”

“Kind of.” He nodded thoughtfully. “We can release this as a joint project now, with Professor Oh as the head of the research and us the rest as his subordinates. That must be done on the scheduled date of release and making sure they won’t find me or my details before that.”

“Okay! Let’s start