200427

when she rounds the corner, face flushed and dripping with sweat, her sneakers immediately hit the asphalt as she pounds up the incline, not slowing down the slightest. only once she reaches the top of the hill and catches sight of the employee's back entrance does she stumble to a halt, bending over and panting harshly, feeling the airtight coil around her ribs at last loosen.

“four minutes early, joohyun, this might be a new record,” comes an amused voice nearby.

joohyun looks up to see seungwan’s smile, a cool glass of water in her hand. there are water droplets glistening along its surface and ice cubes clinking together, and joohyun eyes it intensely enough for seungwan to gently push the glass into her hands, laughing. “drink. it’s for you.”

“thank you,” joohyun quietly says several desperate mouthfuls of water later. a quick glance at her watch confirms that seungwan is right, but now she’s down to two minutes. joohyun bites her lip, hesitant. “i should get going.” 

seungwan only nods, watching joohyun down the rest of the glass before taking it back. “it’s a slow day today, not too many people. so no rush,” she informs her, and joohyun knows her well enough to understand. she offers seungwan a small smile, tries to visibly relax her shoulders. then turns to leave.

when she notices seungwan isn’t following, joohyun pauses at the entrance, questioning. but seungwan only waves her away with a hand as she says, “go first, i’m on break.” 

“do you always take your breaks at this time?” joohyun muses out loud.

“maybe if you come to work at a different hour, you can find out,” seungwan says with a cheeky grin. it’s followed by an exaggerated wink. “but you have to tell me what time beforehand.” 

joohyun huffs out a laugh. “greasy,” she mutters, stepping into the hallway.

“you love it!” she hears from outside right before the door swings shut, and joohyun heads to the lockers with the echoes of a tinkling laughter in her head, footsteps feeling light and easy.

. . .

they don’t work in the same area, but the restaurant still runs on coordination. inevitably, there are brief moments to watch each other in action.

seungwan works the kitchens and prepares each plate of food, joohyun delivers the dishes out to their respective tables. it’s like clockwork, back and forth, again and again. they make eye contact when seungwan slides plates over the line counter into joohyun’s waiting hands, and joohyun accepts them with a nod before whisking them away. she can feel the way seungwan’s eyes linger after her as she turns her back, but she doesn’t have time to think further about it when she’s focused on balancing dishes in her hands, herself in heels. 

it’s a high-end restaurant with fancy, gourmet food and even more expensive customers; joohyun can’t afford to lose this job when it pays her too well. still, it’s tiring, and she knows, of course, that it’s not just because of this work.

whenever she meets seungwan’s encouraging smiles and calm, unwavering gaze though, she thinks it gets a little easier. even during the most hectic hours of the day, with orders upon orders to take and deliver, with her manager’s voice growing strained and threateningly tense, seungwan is always a constant, an anchor that keeps her grounded. fingers drumming the line counter, eyes holding her steady as she looks into them. reminding her that it’s okay to breathe.

. . .

at ten thirty evening sharp, the bus pulls in and lingers at the stop for a few minutes. when no one boards, the doors eventually slide shut, only for a hand to smack against the glass a second later, seungwan panting and grinning apologetically as it reluctantly reopens. “i’m so sorry, sir,” she says, running a hand through her hair, patting down her fringe. “this is my friend’s bus, she’s just a bit slow.”

joohyun barrels into view before the driver can reply, halting at the doors and taking in lungfuls of air. she glances over at seungwan, who frustratingly looks less out of breath than she feels.

“longer legs and still slower, huh,” seungwan teases, before she lets out an “oof” when joohyun elbows her in the stomach. she boards the bus with a sheepish duck of her head to the driver, not looking back as seungwan laughs behind her.

when she settles down in an empty seat near the front, there’s a thunk against the window that causes her to turn, making eye contact with seungwan through the glass. seungwan beams at her for a moment before waving wildly. joohyun’s lips twitch as she fails to hide her amusement.

even as the bus slowly rolls away from the stop, she can’t help pressing her head against the window to watch seungwan’s disappearing figure in the distance.

. . .

three hours into her shift, joohyun feels like dead weight. she’d had a test today in chemistry that she’d completely forgotten to study for; turning it in at the end of class had made her feel like utter . not to mention she has a night at the convenience store again later. she really, really just wants to go home and sleep for a few months.

as she’s dropping dirty dishes off into the sink, biting her lip and trying not to drag her feet, she hears someone behind her clear their throat before speaking up. “joohyun, can you help me bring in some of the drop-offs from outside?” 

joohyun spins around, murmuring a soft affirmative, before narrowing her eyes when she sees seungwan wiping her hands on her uniform’s apron as she approaches.

the sous chef across the room also looks up from her work to squint at seungwan. “don’t you want to ask one of the guys, wan?” she asks, not unkindly. 

seungwan shakes her head with a smile, gently nudging joohyun forward as she leads them toward the back exit. “no, it’s fine! i’m sure she’s stronger than she looks,” she chuckles, and joohyun hears the sous chef snort in exasperation. joohyun echoes the sound in her head. 

“sit down for a minute, joohyun,” seungwan tells her when they’re outside, but she’s already prodding her to take a seat at the wooden table, effortlessly ignoring her confused protests. seungwan reaches over her then toward a little nearby plate, lifting the dish cover to reveal two freshly baked egg tarts. joohyun blinks at it for a few seconds before seungwan pushes it closer to her invitingly. “can you rate these for me?” she asks innocently, stepping back.

clearly, seungwan brought her out here for an entirely different kind of “help,” joohyun thinks as she takes in seungwan’s easy maneuvering of the supply boxes, her absentminded humming. another glance at the plate of egg tarts makes her stomach growl as she suddenly remembers how little lunch she had consumed today: she’d felt too nauseous to really eat after the test. 

resigned, joohyun carefully picks one of the pastries up before taking a bite of it. out of the corner of her eye, she can see seungwan pausing with an armload of supplies to watch her.

it’s still warm in , but not enough to burn. the custard is creamy, thick, the crust perfectly crisp and baked. for the second time today, joohyun almost dies, but it’s in a much more pleasant way.

“how is it?” seungwan murmurs after a moment, pulling joohyun out of her thoughts. her eyes flutter open, taking in seungwan’s hopeful, expectant look.

joohyun swallows, her lips. almost flushes at the way seungwan’s gaze flickers downward before snapping back up to her eyes again. “i don’t think i want any more,” joohyun says, and she watches as seungwan’s expression falls, her shoulders sagging.

joohyun bites her lip, trying to stay still, but then she coughs into her fist, looking away. slowly, she takes another bite of the egg tart.

seungwan eyes her movements, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as joohyun chews. it’s only once she’s finished another mouthful that realization seems to dawn on seungwan, and joohyun has to fight back a full-blown laugh as seungwan’s l