Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
He sprinted through the dimly lit church, which had lost its sacred aura. His legs faltered, and he tumbled near the entrance, just where a glimmer of light broke through. And then, a hand extended toward him, belonging to a figure whose face remained a hazy enigma.
Yet, he knew, deep in his heart, that this was an angel.
However, when he extended his hand and the tips of his fingers made contact with the mysterious figure, the angelic appearance gave way to an iron grip. His nails dug in as he was forcefully pulled from the church.
A satan.
Tears streamed down the boy's face as he pleaded, "Release me!"
Yet, the unyielding demon remained resolute, his grasp unwavering, and the boy came to a grim realization-this was his final chapter.
Jeongin's eyes snapped wide, his breath labored, and his forehead drenched in perspiration. He became aware that he was still cradled in Chan's embrace, so he nestled his face against the older's chest, finding solace as his racing heart gradually steadied.
After a brief while, he gazed upwards and noticed that dawn was approaching, yet Chan remained peacefully asleep. This reassured Jeongin; he didn't want to burden Chan with unnecessary worry over his well-being.
His fingers clutched the fabric of Chan's shirt from behind, while he nuzzled into Chan's chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent-a blend of freshness, florals, earthiness, and woods. Gradually, he drifted back into slumber.
He was acutely aware that the war was far from over. In reality, he was merely escaping, putting on a facade that all was well. But he felt compelled to do so, didn't he? It was for Chan, who had rescued him. He was giving it his all, but everything felt insurmountable.
Perhaps, Yang Jeongin feared, his best efforts were insufficient.
"Sir, this is starting to burn," the chef stammered, his lips clenched, visibly nervous under Chan's gaze.
Chan responded with a firm tone, "I've prepared pancakes before."
The chef couldn't help but mention, "It was two years ago, sir, and you managed to burn them as well."
While the other chefs couldn't resist a little giggle, they quickly hushed when Chan shot them a sharp look.
"We sincerely apologize-"
"Help me, you imbeciles."
You might find it puzzling, the behavior of this mafia leader. But when Jeongin had suggested he take a break last night, Chan took it to heart, eagerly anticipating the day he could share with him.
And so, he found himself, beginning his day by whipping up breakfast for Jeongin and himself.
And, ofcourse, also trying to rizz him up with his "five star michelin cooking skils."
Preparing this seemingly simple dish had consumed a significant amount of time and effort. But at last, it was ready. With the dish in hand, he left the kitchen, accompanied by servants bearing additional trays, ready to serve Jeongin a breakfast he wouldn't soon forget.
Meanwhile, Jeongin sat alone at the dining table, a sense of curiosity lingering in his mind about why this space was seldom used for dining. However, he brushed the thought aside. As was his routine, he patiently waited, though this time the wait seemed to stretch a bit longer than he had initially expected.
Looking up, his gaze widened as he saw Chan entering the room, accompanied by a group of other men. Jeongin couldn't believe his eyes - Chan had never joined him for breakfast before. Was this some kind of dream?
"A very good morning, petal," Chan greeted him with a warm smile, gently setting the plate on the table, and the other servants followed suit, placing their respective dishes.
"Good morning..." Jeongin whispered, his mind clouded by the remnants of his recent nightmare. He felt somewhat down, but he made an effort to offer a faint smile, silently wondering,
What's so good about this morning?
Chan picked up on it but refrained from asking. He expressed his gratitude to the servants, who left after bowing. Taking a seat opposite Jeongin, he observed the younger man as he scrutinized the food before them.
As he began to eat, he inquired softly, "Is everything alright?"
Jeongin looked up at Chan with wide eyes and nodded, "Uh, yes... I'm just a bit surprised." A tinge of guilt crept in as he feared coming off as an attention seeker.
"Surprised for what?" Chan chuckled softly, his tone lightening the mood. He continued, "I'm simply following your suggestion from last night... I figured having breakfast together would be a good idea."
Jeongin's eyes widened even further. "You remembered that?" He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, wondering if he was inadvertently affecting Chan's mood with his reactions.
"Of course, I did," Chan replied, "Not everyone's suggestions capture my attention, but the idea of taking a break didn't seem like a bad one. It's a chance for us to spend more time together. How does that sound?"
"Wonderful," Jeongin murmured, a genuine smile gracing his lips. He had anticipated being isolated in his room for two days, but now he felt a sense of relief and gratitude for the unexpected turn of events.
Chan returned the smile and, with a gentle gesture, picked up a small piece of pancake on his plate, offering it to Jeongin with a fork near his mouth.
Jeongin gave a small pout; he wasn't particularly hungry, but there was an inexplicable desire to clear his plate. His emotions were a jumble, torn between his appetite and inner turmoil.
Chan let out a hum, drawing his hand back and then wiggling his arm to jeongin's mouth, "c'mon, open wide."
"Aah," Jeongin obediently parted his lips, his cheeks blushing slightly as he accepted the morsel of pancake into his mouth.
"Good boy," Chan praised, and he continued to enjoy his meal while occasionally feeding Jeongin, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Mhm, this tastes different," Jeongin mumbled as he savored the flavors of the meal.
"Different... in a good or bad way?" Chan inquired, still feeding Jeongin small bites of food, his gaze attentive and curious.
"In a good way," Jeongin smiled, "please ask the chef to prepare this everyday." Suddenly, realization struck, and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry, I didn't mean to give orders..." But as another thought dawned on him, his eyes widened, and he stammered, "Wait, don't tell me you're the one who made this-"
