ex·hi·bit
(v.) to present to view
• a jeon jeongguk au •
We walk in comfortable silence, allowing the city drums surround us. I notice her seeming captivated by the dynamic ambience in every corner we turned, finding myself often wanting to captur...
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A metallic clatter of pans snaps me out of my sleep as I wake suddenly. No drowsiness, no slow warming up, I'm on my feet, with every thought still in high definition. I catch myself mumbling an apology, while feeling my heartbeat pound against my chest, recalling the dreadful dream- or nightmare, I just had of my mom being here.
Don't be sorry. Although I don't remember why I was in the first place, the details of the nightmare are now blurring away.
The noises of the day are in full swing from not only outside the window but also in the dorm, as I peek through the bedroom door. An aroma of pancakes suddenly fills my nose, tingled with the morning flavour of coffee and in the midst of the kitchen, stands Jeongguk, whistling cheerily, pausing once to lick off batter off his fingers before resuming.
"Morning!" He chimes.
"You're up early." I take seat, hugging my knees, on the new pair of chairs we got together with a small mahogany dining table that Jeongguk found from a few seniors who moved out of the city recently and offered for me to have to it. The sight of him in my kitchen was far from new, I couldn't think of a single breakfast we had in his room.
"I guess my body is just used to it. Check this out," he turns to face me from the stove, tilting his head a little to the side, as he holds out a pan with a pancake in the middle.
Flicking his wrist confidently, the pancake flips twice up in the air, which is impressive— until it lands half off the edge of the pan. Jeongguk yelps as I quickly lunge forwards, catching the pancake as it slides off the rim, it lands on my hands just before it can hit the ground.
"Oh shi—" He bursts into a cackle of laughter.
"Hot-hot-hot! Fuck! It's hot! Jeongguk!" I squeal.
"Wait! Uhh— where's a plate!?"
"Nevermind a plate, give me the pan!" I yell, ruffling the flat piece of cooked batter from one hand to the other, standing up to finally drop it onto the pan that Jeongguk now holds out towards me, before he sets it back on the stove.
I'm quick to turn on the cold water from the faucet and let it run over my palms, while Jeongguk scurries around the dorm, rambling through his chuckles.
"I'm so sorry! Layla hold on—"
"Jeongguk—"
"I shouldn't have— aish your face when it fell!"
"Jeongguk."
"But I practiced so much—"
"Jeongguk!" He finally shuts up as I get his attention, his doe eyes wide, "Can you please get me a first aid kit?"
"Are you crying?" His eyebrows furrow and his expression takes a 180 turn all of a sudden.
