She closes the book that she’s been reading since an hour ago, takes off her glasses and yawns before stretching her legs out, elongating limbs and arching back. The small clock on the table shows it’s already 1 o’clock in the morning which means the person in her mind must be already sleeping by now. Those lazy hands blindly sweeps all over the duvet in search of the phone and just when she finds it, her half-lidded eyes stare at the screen that lit up until it turns dark again – crazily, the lock screen wallpaper is more than enough to curl a smile between her lips, effortlessly blows a huge amount of strength for her to endure the distance that separates them now.

It was an artless photo of their hands holding each other’s. As simple as both of them.

Just as she shuts her eyes close to be ready to drift in world of peace and silence, her mind reminisces the moment they took that picture which was on their last time spending time together – and it was a breakfast-at-home date. The tingling nerves and excitement on that day, the sound of the rain pitter-pattered on the rooftop with the scent of him and a cup of tea combined, how fresh and casual he looked, the fabric of his sweater that hid the plain tee underneath, the tiny details of everything about that moment – is still fresh in her book of memories.

The morning was perfectly imperfect; he went to her house very early in the morning while she was still sleeping soundly only to prepare for the breakfast. He didn’t even wake her up, silently waited on the couch inside her room with a book that she read the night before in his hand, and silently chuckled to himself when he saw her grunted almost fiercely.

Perhaps it could be traumatic to know someone else is in the house when you lived alone, but the soothing deep voice greeting “Wash up, the breakfast’s ready” acted different to her brain, naturally gaped her eyes before replying with a sleepy “You should’ve wake me up”.

The sight is still vivid, of how good the man looks like in plain grey sweater with tracksuit and his hair was quite messy on that morning. He beamed with his cute hearty lips and opened his arms. She was stunned by the view but seeing that sweet smile of his, she made her way towards him and shared a warm embrace on the cold morning of the spring that year.

//

“Did you sleep well?” that deep voice of his hums and she nods a few times in response.

The hug loosens before he lands his lips on hers, growing his grin wider. And she couldn’t help but to smile whenever he does.

But a long, almost-annoying whine shifts in as her eyes fall to the hearty meals on the table, again diving her face to the man’s shoulder as she fusses, “I should really do something about this. How could this happen every single time?” Of course, the lady is referring to her sleeping pattern – which caused her to lose more minutes that she could have spent with him. They could have prepared the breakfast together, every seconds is precious for both of them since they would spend the next two years away from one another.

“Simple. Go to sleep earlier.”

“Well great idea. Why didn’t I ever think of that?”

The guy snorts at his lady’s scoff, placing another kiss on her forehead before leading the way to the dining table, pulling the chair – first-class service style. Every play pretend that he carries ends with the other’s laughter, starting from the way he present the menu and drink list – which were simply spicy galbitang with rice and pajeon, served along with his signature beverage, sugarless green tea that she finds unacceptable since day one – till the way he delicately pours the tea into her cup.

“Soo?”

One call is enough to burst Kyungsoo’s giggle, cutting off the role play at once and shakes his head rapidly, “Of course not!” He jogs to the counter to grab the paper bag before re-enacting a magic hat trick however instead of drawing a bunny out, he pulls a carton of banana-flavoured milk from it.

And for she is truly touched by his consideration, the lady cheers excitedly and raises one arm up in favour of high-five.

“You’re the best!”

Kyungsoo smiles upon the remarks, one hand catches the incoming palm then leans in for a quick peck. “I should at least do that,” he claims, at the same time pulling the chair for himself on the other side of the table. “I bought some groceries, already put them away in their places. Don’t forget to use them before they expire.”

She halts right at digging in for the pajeon, “Am I that bad?”

“You know yourself better.” The man speaks as if stating the weather, casually pushes the bowl closer towards his lady then chuckles, “But I’d say yes. Do I have to remind you about last time? Or the one before that? Or maybe…”

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to go that far. Sheesh,” she whines just to receive another series of giggles in response, gladly shoves the food into afterwards. As usual, Kyungsoo’s cooking is flawless – however that barely matters for her at the moment. Her gaze never leaves his face – watching the glasses gets clouded by the steam from the dishes – while the latter pays full attention to his meal.

Classic Kyungsoo.

“So you’re going to your parents’ house after this?”

“Just dropping by. I bet Mom is going to add dozens of stuffs in my luggage.”

They chuckles quietly, already had the scenario playing in