PLAYLIST: “Burn,” Tina Arena

DOHEE

I have so many questions for myself:

I have been replaying these questions over and over again to the point that I am starting to get sick of my own name. I am here still locked in his bathroom and I won’t be surprised if he already thinks I’m going for Number 2. I feel like I have to get ready for something but I am not quite sure what it is? I palm my neck, feeling the warmth that Baekhyun’s apartment has succeeded in surrounding me. His heater couldn’t be , it’s summer for cheese’s sake. But it feels it is … very . I wash my hands for the third time hoping I am able to really step out this time. Before I fail, yet again, on my third attempt, I jolt from a knock on the door.

“Did you slip again?” I hear his faint voice against the door. Yikes, right. That just happened recently. He probably has trauma leaving me in any type of bathroom now. I brace myself with a smile before swinging the door open. I reluctant yet relieved smile forms on his lips as our eyes meet. “I was just … texting with my mom about something and got distracted.” I make up an excuse—not my best one—before shoving myself on the minimal space he left in the door frame. As soon as I step out, I smell food right away. Meat, smoke, sizzle. A combination of buttery and herby aroma encloses the place, in a good way. Was I in there for that long?

I feel him follow behind me and I don’t know what it is but he feels a little too close that I am afraid to even turn my head to check. My instinct gets confirmed when I feel him cup my shoulders, his warm palms pressed on my clothed skin. “Just take a seat and relax.” He motioned me to the couch before gently pushing me down himself. I look up at him as he stood right in front of me, in such close proximity. I don’t want to look straight because then, my eyes would level right on his … you know, his … crotch. “Do you wanna do something?” He asks, his eyes gazing warmly down at me.

I gulp a heavy lump. “Do—do what?” I mutter. Why is he this close? What is he about to do? What are we about to do? He bends over, almost closing the gap between our faces. Is he about to kiss me? Oh god. Is this going to happen again, how am I—oh wait no. He grabs something from behind me on the couch and I realize I was almost sitting on the TV remote. “Here, watch anything you want.” He hands it to me before walking away back to the kitchen. I brush my fingers across my neck and down to my throbbing chest. Why is he doing this to me? Wait, he’s not even doing anything really!

And why do I keep waiting for him to do something?

Instead of following his instructions, I drop the remote to the couch to follow him again. I don’t exactly know why I did but I just want to be there. I feel way too awkward watching TV alone and feeling too at home at someone else’s home—right, says the girl who was just peeping on his room. “How do you like your steak?” He asks me. Hmm, how do I like my steak? “Uh, good? I want it good.” I earn a laugh from him. “No, I mean well done or medium rare or?” He clarifies.

Yeah, I knew that. I was joking.

“I prefer it well done; I don’t like bloody stuff,” I answer and he gives me a simple nod before looking down to the pan again. “I told you to watch TV if you want, it’s fine, don’t worry about me here.” He speaks. Eh, I really can’t. It feels too weird. Like I’m not that much of a couch potato to even do it here too. I think? “No, it’s fine. I want to see how it gets done anyway. It’s interesting cause I don’t know how.” I grin before leaning against the high chair with my elbows. He turns to me, letting go of the tongs. “Need a hand?” He offers again. I frantically shake my head but he didn’t take a no for an answer. To my surprise, he didn’t lift me on the high chair like before. Instead, he made me sit right on the kitchen island.

I yelp and look down to the floor that is so much farther away from my reach. “Let’s you see the steak getting cooked better when you’re higher up, right?” He smiles before turning around to the stove again. Ooh, he’s actually right. I feel like an audience on a cooking show. I blow air in my cheeks as I stare at his back. With him carrying me like that is just making me feel very … weird inside like he’s done it so many times at this point.

He clears his throat loud enough for me to anticipate whatever he’s about to say. “So, tell me how innocent you really are with adult stuff.” His question freezes my whole existence for a short moment. “So, I know what to teach you.” He continues. Are we really having this conversation? With Byun Baekhyun? My favorite hairstylist? My new and only best friend? The man I used to think was gay but now I know is straight? I sigh heavily as I process his question. Shim Dohee, he’s asking you a proper question. Let me remind you again that you started this, okay? “Well, I mean—” I clear my throat, covering my mouth with a fist. “—I don’t … think I have ever flirted on dates? If that’s what you mean. I just don’t know how to flirt properly. I’m too awkward at it.” I explain myself as clearly as I could.

Young twenty-year-old Shim Dohee would have never thought she’d go as far as having to get coached on how to be in a relationship. It’s so sad. But like Baekhyun told me before, it’s better to move slow than not move at all. I replay that advice in my head every time I lose hope. So, this is me moving slow. I’m doing the right thing.

I hear a disgruntled chuckle from him as he turns around. “Are you serious?” He asks. I look away in embarrassment. He looks at me like he just heard the most stupid thing ever. “Sorry,” I grunt back while folding my arms across my chest. “No, what I mean is—” He lifts a palm up, facing me. “—I don’t think you don’t know-how. You simply just chose not to do it with those guys you’ve gone on dates with.” He corrects me. I don’t get it. What does he mean I didn’t choose to do it? Does he think I’m not trying at all?

I make a sour frown. “What do you mean—I don’t get it.” I shake my head in confusion.

He turns to the stove again and plated the first steak he’s done making. Ugh, that looks so good. “Yah, tell me.” I throw my leg up until it reaches his sides. He jolts at what I did. “Sorry, one second.” He mutters before placing the next steak on the pan. He adjusts the fire before turning to face me again. He approaches me with intent in his eyes. He stops right in front of me, my kneecaps touching his firm abdomen. “That’s what I mean when I asked you how innocent you really are, okay? I don’t think you even realize when you’re flirting, Dohee. Do you understand me now?” He gently explains, as if I’m a kid getting lectured by her homeroom teacher.

Err, I don’t—why would I not realize that? People flirt on purpose. It’s an activity. It’s not something you could do involuntarily.

He places his hands on the kitchen island, completely trapping me in his arms. “Why don’t you try it with me?” He suggests and I just blink at him like an idiot. “Fli—flirting? But I told you, I really don’t know how.” I whine. “What am I supposed to say? Like … a punchline? Pick up lines?” I ask earning a chuckle from him. He turns away for a moment before looking straight at me again. He’s still had me all trapped in him. “Flirting isn’t all about words, Dohee. It could be like this too.” He swiftly cups my face until his fingers are slowly slipping in my jawline down to my neck, ever-so-gently brushing my hair away before moving his palm across my shoulder, tracing my arm downwards until he was holding my hand. He lastly spread my fingers open to lock them with his.

I gulp hard from the unexpected electricity that I felt from that simple gesture. With his eyes still locked with mine, he lifts my hand to his face before planting the lightest kiss on my knuckle. “That’s considered flirting.” He finally declares before le