“Suho ya, you said you’ll help me with the food!”

The last time I cooked for myself (and others) was when Suho and I were also heading to the beach five years ago. My alibi about my disappointing cooking skills back then, was because I was distressed and distracted when I found out about my dad’s case. I never tried to cook again, to prolong my excuse, but now there’s no escape. I have a plan in my head to let Suho do the cooking, but he’s nowhere to be seen in the kitchen. Soon after we arrived back in my house, after the grocery shopping, he immediately rushed to my mom’s room.

“Hey Lee Suho, get out of my mom’s room this instant!” I ordered him. I don’t want to murder our food later.

“Coming out!” he yelled back. I was busy organizing the ingredients in the table when he called for my attention. “Seo Jaehee, smile.”

Click. Why does he always take stolen photos of me? I gave him a fake grumpy look, “Now I’m pissed… you cook.”

I took off my apron and gave it to him. Without any complains, he tried to put it on, while carrying his camera, “Tie the back strap for me.”

I sighed, but obliged. At least he’s in charge of the cooking now. I reached for the two back straps, and in a weird way it felt as if I was trying to give him a back hug. It was already too late when I realized he wanted this to happen. He immediately raised his both arms, and with the camera facing us, he said, “Smile again.”

He took more than one photo with his camera, most of it was my usual dumb expression, but I tried to smile and look sharp at the latter photos.

After being the photographer of the day, he concentrated on cooking our food for later. If my level was fried rice with laver instead of the plain old kimbap, he was several steps ahead of me. He could cook the perfect kimbap and eggrolls simultaneously, without hassle. It was as if I would only become a hindrance if I would try to help. I mentally ordered myself to wash the dishes afterwards.

“We’re done!” he announced while covering the last of our lunchboxes, “I’ll go prepare out things.”

“Well, I still have to change,” I brought the same dress I wore five years ago, when Suho and I had our date at the beach. Maybe if the scenario was the same as before, he would get flashbacks of what had happened.

I headed straight to my room to change. I could hear Suho open and close the closet, and his bag