never not ✧ mark lee

32

"Damn, that was a fail," Mark said, taking out his phone, opening the Uber app and then handing it to her.

"No," Dasom said, smiling up at him as she took his phone. "It was nice."

And until taxi came to pick them up, Dasom didn't let go of Mark's arm - not that he seemed to mind either.

When Dasom opened the door to her apartment, Mark saw her father sitting on the couch and watching the news on their television set. He looked up at the sound of the door and then rose when he saw the boy behind his daughter.

"Hey Dad," Dasom said, taking off her shoes, making Mark quickly do the same. "This is my friend Mark."

"Hello Mr. Han," Mark said, feeling a little nervous as he bowed a full ninety degrees. "It's nice to meet you."

Dasom's father approached them and held out a hand to Mark, who shook it immediately. "A friend?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah," Dasom confirmed. "I invited him over for dinner."

"This late?" Mr. Han continued to question.

"I'm so sorry for intruding sir," Mark spoke up. "Dasom came to my workplace on my invite and I'd been working late so she offered to give me dinner when I told her I haven't eaten yet."

Her father still looked a little suspicious, but he stepped out of the way to let Mark and Dasom inside the living room. "Well," he said. "You're lucky I didn't polish everything off... Mark, was it?"

"Yes sir," Mark nodded. "Mark Lee."

"Mark Lee," he repeated, as Dasom went to the kitchen. "Drop the 'sir,' just call me Jeonghoon."

"Will do, Jeonghoon," Mark smiled.

"Make yourself at home," Jeonghoon welcomed his daughter's friend.

Mark smiled again and then went to join Dasom in the kitchen.

"Sorry about that," Dasom chuckled, putting a bowl of rice in the microwave. "My dad can be a little protective."

"Oh he totally scared me for a second," Mark sighed. "But he seems chill."

"Yeah, he's a pretty cool dad," Dasom agreed, turning on one of the stoves that had a pot on it.

"What are you feeding me then?" Mark asked, peering into the pot.

"Nothing fancy," Dasom replied, stirring the contents with a ladle. "It's just chicken curry with rice, but if there's a next time I'll be more prepared."

"No, that's sounds perfect," Mark assured her, and then sniffed the air. "It smells great."

"Awesome," Dasom said, taking the rice out of the microwave. "How's your spice tolerance?"

"Not the best," Mark admitted. "But definitely not the worst, I can handle it."

"Good, because Dad and I love our gochugaru," Dasom told him, pouring the curry over the rice. "Come on."

She led him to the dining table and placed the bowl in front of one of the seats before going back to the fridge and pulling some things out.

Meanwhile, Mark took a seat and closed his eyes to say a quick silent prayer before he tried a bite of the food.

"Yo, this is actually so good!" he exclaimed, genuinely meaning it. "You'd give Taeyong and Doyoung a run for their money."

"Dang, really?" Dasom asked, returning to the table with two smaller bowls that contained kimchi and soybean sprouts. She placed them on either side of his plate and then took the seat across him. "Glad you like it."