philophobia | ksj+mb

-17-

I rolled my eyes. "I've cooked before, genius. I know how to use a knife."

Jin nodded, not quite believing me. He took off his coat, revealing the oversized t-shirt he wore underneath. I noticed that everything looks oversized in him, because his broad shoulders don't match his thinner, smaller body. "I'm not going to baby you if you manage to cut yourself," he added.

I groaned, rolling my eyes at his remark. "What are we making anyway?"

He turned to me, eyebrows raised. "We? You mean me?"

I pursed my lips in annoyance. "Same thing."

"Kimchi stew. I heard you like kimchi."

"Oh yeah? Where?" I challenged. Not a lot of people know what I like. He must've asked one of the three, and I'm betting my money on Yongsun. She talks a lot, and I pity him for listening to all her chatters. But the effort of actually asking someone what I like, gotta appreciate that.

"The same person who gave me your address," he answers simply. "Min Yoongi."

I froze, eyes widening in shock. My mind involuntarily flashed to the events in the past, events I don't want to uncover. "Why would you ask Yoongi?"

"Because why not? You're close to him, right?" Jin took the tofu I cut and put them inside the pan, frying it.

"How do you know I'm close to him?"

He looked at me, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Everyone knows you're close to him. Why do you seem so surprised? Did you two have a history or something?"

Yes.

I forced a laugh, eyes focused on cutting the mushroom into tiny pieces. "Why would we have a history?"

"Well, for one, you seem kind of shocked when I mentioned his name. And two, he knows a whole lot about you for a best friend." He turned away from me, focusing his attention on the tofu.

"We're friends since high school, Jin. Of course he knows a lot of things."

"I know. I'm just messing with you," he replied. Jin handed me onions, giving me instructions on how to cut them into tiny cubes.

We continued our cooking in silence. Jin took the onions I cut up and put it in the pot. He then asked me to leave the rest of the process to him, and pointed to the bed. "Wait there."

"I can cook too, you know," I argued.

"I know. But I won't risk you messing things up."

"But —"

He glared at me. "I said no. Sit there." He pointed to my bed again, turning back to the pot right after that. I crossed my arms and pouted my lip, looking at Jin one last time. When he didn't waver, I turned around and did as he said.

I watched Jin finish the dish we made. His moves were fluid and practiced, as if he belonged in the kitchen. I could see he's done this numerous times, as we adults live alone. The luxury of decent meals in restaurants is a form of appreciation of our achievements.

He called me over to take my bowl when he's done. The delicious scent filled my apartment. It's been a while since I tasted homemade food, and I know it's so much better than expensive restaurants, regardless of the taste.

But Jin didn't disappoint me with the taste of his cooking. His kimchi stew can pass off as a menu in any local restaurant, and I praised him for it. He didn't seem to fear the quality, as he gave me a confident smile as a form of thanks.

"So," I said between bites, "what's with the sudden appearance?"

He shrugged. "I told you I wanted to spend time with you, right?"