I opened my eyes and blinked slowly, looking at the unfamiliar ceiling. As I tried to stand up, I remembered that I was not in my own home. I was at Geonsu’s. 

I pushed myself up and looked around the room. The T-shirt from last night was still on the floor, next to the gym bag. I forgot to put it back. I stared at it before my eyes moved toward the other side of the bed. A folded piece of paper sat on the nightstand. 

Good morning,

I left for work. You can stay as long as you need or want to.

I came in to check on you before I left, but you were fast asleep. Sorry for coming in without you knowing.

I left you something to eat on the coffee table. If you want something warm later, come over to Toscana. I should be done around noon.

Text me when you wake up so I know you’re okay. (917) 555-

His handwriting was elongated and rough. I read the note again, then my eyes slowly dropped on the floor where the T-shirt lay. He came in here. There was absolutely no way he hadn’t seen it. I felt ashamed again, but what could I do? I picked the shirt up and shoved it back into his gym bag before leaving the bedroom, taking the note with me.

There was more color than I had noticed last night. Warm brown and orange furniture, a yellow armchair, patterned cushions and plants tucked into corners and beside the windows. Lamps were everywhere. A long one curved over the chair, smaller ones sat on shelves and tables, and there were candles mixed between them. Even with daylight coming through the curtains, I could imagine the entire apartment glowing orange at night. 

Apparently, he was not a fan of overhead lighting. I had noticed the lamps in the bedroom too. They were everywhere. 

The sandwich from his note was waiting on the coffee table, wrapped up on a plate with a glass beside it. I was about to pick it up when I noticed what was behind the couch. Books. A lot of them.

The shelving took up most of the wall. I walked around the couch instead and started reading the spines. Anatomy. Astronomy. Physics. Literature. Alpha biology. Omega. Beta. An encyclopedia. Science fiction. Drama. Something about magic… Several books were in Korean, mixed between English ones without any particular separation that I could understand. He seemed to have everything.

I pulled out one of the anatomy books and flipped through it when I noticed there were notes inside. A few paragraphs were underlined, something was written along one margin in pencil and a small piece of paper was tucked farther into the book. I flipped through another few pages before putting it back.

The next one had writing in it too. I frowned and pulled out another. Same thing.

For somebody who told me last night that he barely finished high school and wouldn’t have made it through university, he seemed to spend an awful lot of his free time giving himself homework.

I smiled slightly and kept looking. One book stood out between the others. It was considerably older, the cover worn around the corners and the spine faded beside the newer hardbacks surrounding it. Korean writing ran down the front.

I left it where it was and pulled out something about astronomy instead. That one had notes too. Eventually, I realized I was standing in a stranger’s apartment going through his books before I had even touched the breakfast he made me.

I took my phone from the pocket of the sweatpants. I called my mom first. I gave her the shortened version of last night. Very shortened. She still asked me several times whether I was actually alright and offered to come pick me up.

“I’m okay. Really. I’ll come home later,” I repeated myself for the third time.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes.”

“And where are you now?”

I glanced around the living room and before I could even think of something better, I responded. “At a friend’s place.”

“What friend?”

My eyes landed on the note on the table, his phone number catching my attention. “I’ll explain later. I’m okay, mom. I need to talk to someone.”

She made me promise to contact her throughout the day before finally letting me hang up. I entered Geonsu’s number into my phone. Calling him felt strangely worse after remembering the T-shirt, so I texted instead. I stared at it for a second before sending it.

[I’m awake. Thank you for everything.]

His answer came around minutes later. The typing bubble appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

[I’m almost done here. If you still want something warm you can come over. You don’t have to though.]

Another message followed a few seconds later.

[No pressure]

I smiled at my phone and went back into the bedroom to get ready. The T-shirt Geonsu had given me was clean, but considerably too thin to wear outside by itself. I looked through the clothes he had left within reach and found a hoodie folded nearby. It was too big on me, but with the sweatpants and my boots, I looked rather sporty. I rarely dressed like this.

I put my jacket over it, messaged him that I was on my way and would be there in thirty minutes.

On my way to Toscana, I called Bella-Donna and asked for the day off. I explained that I was fine physically and would probably stop by later anyway, but the manager barely let me finish before telling me I had nothing to apologize for.

The longer we spoke, the more dramatic his version of last night became. Apparently, despite not being there, he had a very clear idea of how everything had unfolded and an even clearer one of what should happen to the man afterward. By the time he started talking about court, lawyers and making sure the “malicious scumbag” never bothered anybody again, I started laughing. I hung up before he could plan the trial himself.

I took the alley toward Toscana again. A group was coming from the opposite direction, several people walking together from the back of the buildings. I moved toward the right side to let them pass, but they slowed down before reaching me.

One of the men stepped aside and gestured for me to go through. “Hello.”

“Hey,” another said as she waved her hand lightly at me.

A few of the others greeted me too. I returned it and continued walking, looking back once after they passed. Well, that was new.

The side door at Toscana was open when I reached it. I knocked against the frame anyway and peeked inside. Geonsu was taking his chef jacket off with his back turned toward me.

For some reason, my eyes went directly to his shoulders. The T-shirt beneath the jacket stretched across his back when he pulled one arm free, reminding me of last night when he had been searching through his wardrobe in the dark. I looked away.

He must have heard the knock because his steps came closer a few seconds later. When I looked back, he was already walking toward me.

His arm lifted. My body tensed before I could think about why, but then the arm went straight past me. Geonsu hung his chef jacket on a hook beside the door. I stared somewhere around his shoulder, hoping nothing on my face had revealed that for one incredibly stupid second, I thought he was going to hug me.

“Are you feeling well?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I looked down at myself when I noticed his eyes follow the front of my jacket. “Oh, and sorry. I took one of your hoodies too. The T-shirt was too cold to wear outside.”

Geonsu looked at the hoodie. His lips parted, but nothing came out immediately. The tips of his ears slowly turned red. 

“I hope that’s okay. I should have asked first–”

“It’s okay. I mean… You can wear it.”

Now that I was actually looking at him, I noticed the darker skin beneath his eyes. It hadn’t been nearly as obvious last night. Apparently, he hadn’t slept particularly well on the couch. 

I looked further into the kitchen, remembering the group I passed outside. “Some of your coworkers were in the alley when I came over. At least, I think they were yours. They all greeted me. Do they know me?” I asked, smiling a little.

“No… Not really.” He glanced farther into the kitchen before looking down again. “I… I think they noticed you work across and… I don’t know.” 

It took him considerably longer to say that than the question deserved. He still wouldn’t look at me, which only made me more curious, but I could think of a reasonable explanation myself. I had handed the blanket to one of his coworkers yesterday and Geonsu already knew about it by the time we met at Nari’s birthday. They had probably talked about me.

“Did you eat before coming?” He finally glanced at me.

“No.”

He turned toward me again. “What about the sandwich?” 

I stared at him for a moment. The sandwich. It was probably still sitting exactly where he had left it on the coffee table.

“I forgot about it,” I admitted.

His brows pulled together. “You forgot to eat?”

“I got distracted.” I could feel my stomach waking up now that we were standing in a kitchen, surrounded by the faint smell of food. 

My stomach tightened hard enough for me to put a hand against it. I rarely skipped meals and apparently it had decided that forgetting breakfast was enough. Geonsu looked toward one of the stations farther inside the kitchen. 

“I can make something. I haven’t eaten yet either.”

“Then… let’s eat together.” I shrugged, smiling.

His eyes came back to me. For a second, he looked strangely pleased by something as simple as that before he lowered them again and nodded.

He brought over a stool, which I understood was for me, so I sat down where he placed it. He closed the back door and grabbed some pans and ingredients. 

Something changed as soon as he started working. In the bright light, his movements left no room for hesitation.

The knife moved quickly beneath his left hand while the fingers of his right curled over whatever he was holding. I had noticed the cuts across that arm last night, but they looked different beneath the bright kitchen lights. Small pale marks and darker spots started around the middle of his forearm and continued toward his hand, several deeper ones crossing his thumb and first two fingers. 

His arms looked even bigger while he worked. The muscles in his forearm tightened whenever he gripped the pan, veins rising beneath the skin before disappearing higher beneath the sleeve of his T-shirt. His left arm moved differently under all that black ink, the marble pattern stretching and changing shape whenever he rotated his wrist.

I watched him work in silence, unable to look away from his hands. They moved with confidence and made his every move stand out. He turned the salmon in the pan with a practiced flick of the wrist, steady fingers guiding the spatula. The soft glow of the stove caught on his knuckles while he whisked the sauce.

He reached above himself for something on a shelf and I followed the movement again. His neck was more muscular than I had noticed last night, shadows forming along the sides when he tilted his head. He tasted the sauce from a spoon.

“I was wondering how you ended up doing this.” I leaned my elbow against the counter, still looking his way.

He looked at me briefly before returning to the pan. “Working here?”

“Cooking.”

“Oh.” He stirred the sauce a few more times. “I didn’t plan it.”

That surprised me. “Really?”

Geonsu nodded. For a while, I thought that was all I was going to get from him, but after lowering the heat beneath the salmon, he continued.

“I worked here when I was younger. Washing dishes, cutting vegetables… whatever they gave me.” He paused, concentrating on the pan as he spoke. “I dropped out of high school for a while. Dad was working, but with Nari and me…” He shrugged. “We needed money.”

I remembered Nari crying at the table last night.

“You were twenty when you finished school, right?”

“Yeah. Toscana offered me the apprenticeship if I went back and finished.”

There was something strangely casual about the way he said it. He turned the salmon again, checked the vegetables and moved on as if dropping out of school to help support his family was merely another step between washing dishes and learning how to cook.

“Did you already know you were good at it?”

“No.” He chuckled softly. “They did, apparently.” His mouth pulled slightly at one side as he looked down at the stove.

I wanted to know what he would have chosen if money hadn’t mattered, but the question sat strangely in my mouth after what he had just told me. Last night he had already dismissed university before anybody could suggest he might have wanted it. This morning, I had found enough annotated books in his apartment to question that assessment considerably.

“Did you ever want to do something else?” I asked.

Geonsu slowed for a moment.

“I don’t know.” He picked up the spoon again and tasted the sauce. “I like this. I really like doing this…”

He placed the plates in front of me and left to retrieve a stool for himself. I smiled when I saw how much effort he had put into plating the one directly in front of me. Then I looked at his. The sauce had simply been poured over the top from left to right, and the salmon looked like he'd stabbed it with the fork just to place it over the vegetables. The only thing that looked equally well executed on both plates were the vegetables, which he had cooked for us at the same time. 

He came back, sat down and started to eat as soon as I put the fork inside my mouth. He glanced at me multiple times, though I pretended I didn’t see him do it. Before I could even finish half of my plate, he leaned back from the table. I glanced at his plate. It was practically licked clean. 

“I thought you wanted to eat together.” I started laughing. “Where are you running off to?”

Geonsu looked down at the empty plate. He inhaled through his nose and started laughing, pushing a few loose strands of hair away from his forehead. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” he chuckled. “I don’t really sit down to eat when it’s busy.”

“How long do you get?”

“Depends. Ten minutes, usually.”

“Ten minutes?” I looked at his empty plate again. “So, are you done for today?”

“For now. I have to come back for dinner prep around two-thirty.”

I glanced at the clock. It was already getting close to two. “You work twice in one day?” I asked, my voice carrying incredulity.

“Sometimes. Breakfast starts at six-thirty, so I come in around five-thirty to prep. Then there's dinner later.” He shrugged. “Not every day.”

“When do you not live here?”

Geonsu smiled into his glass. “Tuesday. Wednesday and Thursday I only come in for dinner.”

I nodded slowly. Wednesday.

Geonsu reached for my plate once I finished and stacked it over his. I watched him carry both toward the sink before remembering that between last night, the clothes I was currently wearing and the food he'd just made me, I had done considerably more taking from this man than I was used to.

“I should take you somewhere.”

“What?”

I leaned back slightly on the stool. “Do you like cats?”

His hands slowed beneath the running water. “Cats? I like cats…” His voice got quieter.

“Good. There’s a cat café in Chinatown I like. Coffee for me, cats for both of us. You can come with me, if you would like to."