You had almost finished your snack when Jongdae returned.  Oddly energetic, he handed you the mail.  “Are you ready?” you asked.

“Hm?  What?”  He looked around at the discarded teddy bear, wig now firmly pinned to its scalp.  “Oh, yes…”  Striding back to the window seat, he picked up the stuffed animal, gathering it into his arms, and moving back into place.  

“Wow,” you said, struck by his expression.  Scrambling over to once more take your seat at the canvas, you looked at the painting, then back at him.  “That’s perfect.  Hold it there!  Just like that…”

***

The wind swirled lovingly through your hair as you leisurely walked through the scenic park.  You didn’t normally like ice cream in cool weather, but the vendor had your favourite flavour, which was uncommon enough to drive you to buy it whenever you saw it sold.  Looking over to see if Jongdae was enjoying his cone, you were surprised to find him staring at it contemplatively.  “What is it, puppy?”

He started slightly, then glanced at you, before smiling.  “Nothing…  It’s just…the cones are rather large, don’t you think?”

That brought you up short.  Jongdae loved ice cream.  In fact, he usually finished his, and then helped you with yours.  “Large?”

“No, it’s just…it seems like they were made…for two people…  See, they give you a little spoon and everything…”

You eyed his cone, then looked at yours.  “Hm.  I guess you’re right.  Might be nicer to buy a smaller cone at a cheaper price.”

“Mm,” he said noncommittally.  “Or share.”

“True,” you agreed.  “But not everyone has a pretty puppy with whom they can share.”

He sighed at that, his eyes growing dreamy.  “I wonder if Aeri likes ice cream.”

As you were turning to ask, “Who’s Aeri,” a sudden shout made you freeze, and then Jongdae was wrapping an arm around your waist, and hauling you from the path onto a pile of soft leaves.  

“Sorry!”

Turning, you saw a group of young teenage boys wobble swiftly past on roller blades, their knees and elbows protected by black pads, their heads covered in almost comically large, colourful helmets.  With a groan, you dropped your head back onto Jongdae’s chest, and heaved a deep sigh.  

“Hey…” he said gently.

“What?” you answered, staring at the sky, trying to relax enough to make your heart stop banging against your ribs.  

“Look at us.  We saved the ice cream!”

You looked up to see that both of you had an arm, each crowned in a perfectly intact ice cream cone, held aloft in the air.  

“Priorities.”

***

A few weeks later, you were coming out of the optometrist’s office, when you saw that a new pho place had opened across the street.  Whipping out your phone, you texted Jongdae.  

Hey

Short notice (apologetic) I know

 But!

 I just finished my eye appointment and it looks like that pho place that they were building is finally open  

Have you eaten?

By the time you made it halfway across the parking lot, your phone pinged with a soft notification.  

Omw

The inside of the restaurant was almost impossibly cozy, with golden lighting, brass fixtures, intimate autumnal-toned booths, warm honey-toned wood, and soft music.  You were told to sit anywhere you liked, and a pleasant waitress, oversized glasses perched on the tip of her nose, quickly brought a menu, and took your drink order. 

Choosing for Jongdae was easy - a large bowl of pho, brisket, flank, tendon, and beef tripe, with an extra serving of meat (hold the onions), and extra sprouts - but it took longer to choose for yourself.  Finally, you settled on something called bun tom nuong - lemongrass-marinated grilled shrimp over vermicelli rice noodles, bean sprouts, lettuce, cucumber, pickled daikon (hold the carrots), peanuts, extra scallions, and no fish sauce.  “I’m expecting someone,” you said as the waitress set down your glasses of water to take your order, “could you wait to start cooking until he’s here?”

“No problem,” she agreed easily.  “Anything else?”

“Uh…”  Pulling out your phone, you volleyed a quick text.  

His answer was almost instantaneous.  A voice recording of what he wanted, with the sounds of the metro clanging in the background.

Smiling at the phone, you chuckled before turning to the waitress.  “An order of egg rolls for him, and tofu spring rolls for me, please.  Extra basil.” 

“That’ll be all?”

“We’ll probably order boba toward the end.”

She nodded.  “I’ll leave the menu here, then.” 

Within 10 minutes, Jongdae was there, bustling through the door, and pausing to sniff the air, before turning to where you sat with a delighted grin.  He slid into the booth like a baseball player sliding into home.  “Beef?”

“Hey…” you said, almost offended.  

“That’s my girl,” he said, reaching over to ruffle your hair.  Settling back down, he looked around the restaurant before giving a low whistle.  Leaning forward, he lowered his normally boisterous voice to a sotto voce.  “This is nice...”

“Right?!” you agreed.  “I expected it to look just like a normal restaurant, but it’s giving…”

“First date,” he said, looking around.

“Date night,” you said simultaneously, before a thought occurred to you.  “Do you want boba with your meal, or after?” you asked.  

“What flavours?”

You slid the menu toward him.  “They have taro, thai tea, honeydew, lychee--”

“Mango, strawberry, coconut, green tea…” he read.  

“Pineapple,” you added.  

He wrinkled his nose.  “Thai tea for me, after the meal.”

“I think that I’ll have taro.”

“You always have taro.”

“That’s not true.  Sometimes I have ube.  And once, hazelnut.”

“You should try new things.”

“You know that I normally do…  But the taro boba…it’s so delicious…”

“Why don’t you try green tea?”

“Too bitter.”

“What about Thai tea?”

“Delicious, but she’s no taro.”

“Pineapp…” he drifted off as you both shook your heads.  “Coconut?”

“Don’t like the texture.”

“You love mangos.”

“I do love mangos,” you agreed wistfully.

“And lychee.”

“And lychee…”

“So?”

“So…”  You pondered, then brightened.  “Three teas.  Thai, taro, and lychee.”

He shook his head.  “You are such a child.”

“And you’re stuck with me.  for you.”

He stuck out his tongue before tossing the menu to the side.  “I just can’t get over how nice this place is…”

“Mm,” you agreed, looking up at the brass fretwork lamp hanging over the table.  

“Does Aeri like this sort of thing,” he muttered to himself, turning around in the booth to better examine the restaurant.  

 “Who’s-”

“Here you go!  Egg rolls for you,” the waitress said, setting the steaming rolls in front of Jongdae, “and spring rolls for you,” she finished, setting down your plate of tofu rolls on a bed of fresh, fragrant basil, and sliced limes.  

Your mouth watered.

“Thank you for the meal,” Jongdae intoned before digging into his crispy eggrolls, steam pouring out of his mouth as he waved his hand to cool the overly hot bite.

All thoughts having flown from your head, you picked up a roll, and dipped it into the creamy peanut sauce, your eyes rolling in your head at the first delicious bite.  Reaching over, you squeezed lime onto the next bite, and wrapped a few basil leaves around the roll.  

“What were you saying?” Jongdae asked, his cheek full of food.

“Hm?  What?”  Your mind tried to replay the previous conversation, but came up blank, so you shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Let’s eat.”

***

”Does anyone else have anything for the good of the group?” your boss asked.  You did your best not to glare at your coworkers' oversized heads on the Zoom screen, as you silently willed each and every one of them to keep their mouths shut.  It was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, 4 PM, and you were ready to close your laptop and begin your holiday.  Wednesday would be full of preparing the ingredients that you had delivered today--washing the collards, and the cranberries, soaking the great northerns, brining the turkey, slicing, dicing, chopping, and mincing the onions, baking the bread, peeling and crushing the garlic, peeling the carrots and potatoes, skinning and seeding the butternut squash, roasting the sweet potatoes, snapping the string beans, washing the mushrooms, freezing the butter, putting out the eggs to come to room temperature, clotting the cream, shucking the corn, roasting the pecans, and the pine nuts, making the dessert, the to do list was exhaustive, but--

“The trees look so pretty in autumn…”

But…Jongdae was worth it.  Currently, he was staring dreamily out of the french doors leading to your apartment balcony, watching colourful leaves twirl and dance toward earth in the lazy autumn wind.  

“Well, if no one else has anything, we do have a bit of time left, we could--” your boss started.

“Great meeting, guys, thanks for your hard work--have a happy Thanksgiving, everyone!” you trilled before giving into the between you and the seductive Leave Meeting button at the bottom of your screen, snapping your laptop shut, and flopping against the back of the couch with a huff of release.  A few moments of silence passed before the slowly sweeping motion of Jongdae’s tail caught your attention, and you looked over to see him lying belly-down on the other end of the couch, his calves up, and his feet gently kicking back and forth in their fluffy grey socks.  You waited, but when he didn’t do anything but sigh longingly, you clicked your tongue to catch his attention before moving the computer from your lap and patting your thighs.  

Jongdae glanced over his shoulder at your invitation and rolled his eyes, but still moved to lay his head in your lap and let you scratch his ears.  You smiled as his eyes closed and his mouth curled up into what you would never tell him was a decidedly cat-like smile.  “You’re feeling awfully poetic,” you said, glancing out of the window.   

LIfting his arms over his head, he stretched.  “Well…life is beautiful…”

You sniffed around his face.  “Have you been drinking?

“Yeah,” he said.  “I’m drunk on your face.”

“Psh,” you scoffed, glaring at him, before leaning down to nuzzle his face with your own.

“Ah!  Ah!” he screamed, pretending to struggle in your hold.

“You love me!” you yelled back, holding him to you as he strained away.  “Stay still and let me love you!”

He broke first, laughing loudly as you reached down to tickle his belly.  

“So,” you said as his laughter finally started to calm down.  “Why this sudden influx of mush?”

“Why?  Can’t I just be happy?” he complained, but with no real heat behind it.  

You said nothing, but gave him a firm side eye.  

Grinning, he blushed, turning his face away a little.  “Well…”

“Well?”

“You know…”

“No, I don’t know, which is why I’m asking you.”

“There’s just…”

“Just…?” you led.  

“This girl.”

“Okay,” you said comfortably, leaning back into the sofa.  “Tell me all about her.  What’s her name?”

He sighed, sounding smitten.  “Aeri…”

“Aeri?”  Your mind clicked, and inwardly, you grinned.  Now you could finally find out who he has been muttering about for the past few weeks.  Careful to sound incurious, to keep from scaring him into changing the subject, you asked - so softly, so gently, “So…who is Aeri?”

“Baekhyun’s hybrid,” Jongdae sighed again, his eyes drifting closed before he adjusted his head to direct your scratching fingertips toward a more satisfactory spot.  

“Okay…” you drawled.  “And who is Baekhyun?”

“He just moved in across the hall,” Jongdae said matter-of-factly.

“We have a new neighbour?” you wondered idly.  

Jongdae’s eyes popped open to allow him to give you a properly reproachful look.  “You never pay attention to your surroundings!” he chastised.  “What would you do without me to take care of you?!”

“Alright, alright, quit scolding me, or I’m putting you on onion-cutting duty tomorrow.”

“You put me on onion-cutting duty every year,” he groused, crossing his arms.

“Is it my fault that you’re so good at cutting onions?” you innocently rejoined.

His eyes narrowed but then your fingers found a particularly delicious spot, and his lids slid closed once more, covering his judgemental glare.  The whumping of his heavy tail against the couch let you know that, despite his bickering, he was enjoying your ministrations.  

“Okay, so this…Baekhyun moved in recently, and he has a pretty hybrid named Aeri.  Am I caught up on all of the latest apartment gossip?”

“No, she’s not just pretty, she’s… So pretty,” he breathed, opening his eyes to stare dreamily at the ceiling.  “Her ears are so fluffy - they’re this pearly grey - and they just drive me crazy!  And her face!”  His voice hushed as if he were telling you secrets.  “Her face is as sweet and round as the moon, and her skin is like golden silk…  She has the biggest, softest, brownest eyes, but is small and cute like a baby’s--and her voice!  Her voice sounds like…a gentle river running over rounded stones…”

You squinted at him.  “Have you gotten into the dognip again?”

Without looking, he reached up and plucked your forehead.

“Ow!” you complained, rubbing the sore spot.  “I’m going to call owner protective services!” 

“You’re stuck with me, though?” he said matter-of-factly.

Grimacing, you moved to get up, only to give up the pretense as he started to whine.  “Why are you so spoiled?” you griped.

“Why did you spoil me?”

“You tricked me!  I thought that you were sweet!”

He tsked before sticking out his tongue.  “You knew what I was when you picked me up.”

“I want my money back!”

“I was free?”

“Ugh, get off, get off,” you grumbled only to have Jongdae turn around and wrap his arms around your waist, burying his face in your belly, his tail wagging madly.  Unable to keep up the pretense of being upset you sighed, and relaxed against the couch as he laughed.  

“Hey…” he started.

“Hm?”

He nuzzled your belly.  “Have you gained weight?  You feel softer.”

“Hey, Jongdae?” you crooned, gently brushing his hair back from his forehead.

“Hm?”

You leaned down to whisper tenderly into his ear.  “It’s not too late to have you neutered, you know.”

He snapped his legs closed.  “You’re looking especially slender today, you know in some lights, when you turn sideways, I can hardly even see you, wow!  Are you there?  I can’t see you!  You’re so thin!”

“Shut up, Jongdae.”  Your stomach grumbled.

One of his ears perked toward the sound, and his expression turned serious.  “Hungry?”

“No,” you grouched.

“What do you want?” he said, standing.

“Nothing!” you pouted.

Leaning down, he looked sweetly into your eyes, gently brushing your hair away from your face before softly plucking your forehead.  “Silly.  Don’t skip meals.”

“Why are you so mean to me!?” you whined.

“I am literally so good to you!” he protested, heading toward the kitchen.  “Now, what do you want to eat, munchkin?!”

“Mm…ramyeon.”

“One pack of ramyeon?” he called from the other room.

***

“Miss?”

You jumped, startled.  “Hm?”

The convenience store owner held up your midnight snack.  “One bowl of ramyeon?  Will there be anything else?”  

You forcibly dragged yourself from thinking about your older boyfriend, from your mind prodding over the problem of how to extricate yourself from the relationship like a tongue worrying a sore tooth.  The cashier’s eyes dropped slightly and you followed his gaze to a handprint in sickly green on your arm, hitherto unnoticed.  As you glanced down, motion caught your eye, and you turned to see a too-thin hybrid loitering just outside of the convenience store, his ears and tail drooping.  You stared at him.  At the gangly arms sticking out of his shirt, the dejected slant of his head.  A rushing sound filled your ears, your palms began to tingle, and your underarms pricked with sweat.

“Miss?  Anything else?”

Vaguely, you looked back at the cashier before your thoughts focused.  Making a decision, you turned back to the shelf, pulling another bowl of ramyeon and putting it on the counter.  “Two bowls of ramyeon, please, sir.  And…” you grabbed a few fish sausages, and a couple packets of gim, “these, as well.”

Upon purchase, you turned to the hot water dispenser and poured the steamy liquid into both bowls, while keeping an eye on the skinny hybrid sitting at one of the tables in the warm spring night.  He watched the passers-by, his cream-coloured ears twitching this way and that, as his tail hung straight behind him.  In one of the bowls, you cut up the fish sausages and then, after draining the water, crumbled the gim into both bowls.  Should you add cheese?  Cheese and fish sausage?  Maybe not…  

Walking outside you stood behind him, noted how his ears turned toward you, but he didn’t move.  “Excus--” clearing your rusty throat, you started again, “Excuse me, but…they were having a 1+1 promotion on this ramyeon, and I can’t eat two bowls.  Could you help me?”

At your voice, the hybrid froze, before turning to cautiously glance at you over his shoulder.  Upon noting that it was to him you were speaking, he turned halfway, glancing down at the bowls in your hands before looking around for other people, as if he couldn’t believe that you were addressing him.

You smiled, and set the bowl of ramyeon with the sausages in front of him.  “Yes, you, puppy.  Do you mind?”

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