Min Ho

“Why are you smiling like a lunatic? Haven’t you seen anyone eat before?” he sneered, catching my grin.

“Is the food good?” I asked. He didn’t react. “Is it edible enough?” I pressed again. He nodded while gulping big spoonfuls of soup.

“I’m sorry,” I said, holding my ears. “Can you forgive me this once?”

“This once? Isn’t it always ‘this once’?” he mocked.

“Then forgive me once again, please,” I begged, forcing a smile. His indifference hurt more than I expected.

“Just for this soup, I can forget what you did yesterday,” he said, locking eyes with me for a moment before returning to his bowl.

“Thanks,” I whispered, genuinely grateful.

“Whatever. But don’t expect anything more. We’re nothing, as you said.” His jaw tightened.

“Okay,” I said, defeated. “I have something for you.” I brought out the box I had prepared. “I couldn’t give you your birthday gift yesterday. Please take this.”

“Do strangers give gifts to each other?” he asked with a mocking smile.

“Please, just accept it.”

“Fine. What is it? I’m eating, so I’ll look later.”

“I’ll open it for you,” I said, smiling. He kept his head down, still eating.

“Alright, what do we have here… I couldn’t buy you expensive things. Sorry, I’m poor.” His expression shifted slightly, and I pouted.

“Well, that’s true. You’re poor. And an idiot. But most of all, you’re cruel,” he said, sadness flickering in his eyes.

“Okay. First gift — a new remote. The old one had stiff buttons, right? Your fingers used to hurt. This one’s better.”

“Will that remote even work with our TV?” he asked doubtfully.

“It won’t,” I admitted. He laughed, and my heart skipped. “Hence, tada! A new TV with the remote. Bigger screen, so your football matches will be better.” I showed him the box. His face betrayed something — surprise, maybe gratitude — before he masked it with indifference.

“Well… thanks,” he muttered, returning to his food.

“What are you eating so much for? Soup and pasta are long gone, yet you’re still swirling your spoon. Idiot.”

He got up abruptly, heading to the sink.

“Come here,” I ordered.

“Why would I?” he challenged.

“I said come here.” My tone was sharper. He obeyed instantly, sitting across from me.

“Second gift — a year’s stock of mosquito repellent cream. They bite you more than me. Strange. This one’s sage-scented, your favourite. Why do you like that smell anyway?”

“Because it smells like you,” he said without hesitation. My face burned. I cleared my throat.

“How many more gifts?” he asked, curious now.

“Just three.” I smiled wide. He smiled back — maybe he had forgiven me.

“Third gift — a year’s worth of your bodywash and moisturizer. Expensive stuff.”

“Why? I like what you use just fine,” he said, sadness in his voice. He knew this cost me months of savings.

“It was on discount. Don’t worry.” I assured him. “Fourth — zero-power lenses. Wear them. You play games too long, your eyes will suffer. Fifth — the video game you wanted. It wasn’t available here, so I got it delivered from a friend in the US. He was kind enough to send it. Are you happy?”

He didn’t reply. He just stared at me, silent for what felt like eternity.

“Say something. Are you still angry?”

Suddenly, he charged at me, hugging me so tightly I couldn’t breathe.

“Hey, I can’t breathe!” I gasped. His grip was crushing, desperate.

He whispered into my ear, voice trembling: “Don’t you dare say again that I’m nothing to you. I may be nothing to you, but you are everything to me. I can’t express it in words. But if you say that again, you’re dead.”

“Alright, alright, easy. Let me go.” I tried to push him. He held my hands, then noticed my wrists — the marks from last night.

“Shit… did I do this?” His face fell.

“It’s okay. Next time, I won’t let you. I’ll break your head if you try something like that again.”

“Sorry,” he whispered, kissing my wrist. “Sorry. I’ll never do it again.”

“Okay, okay, don’t be dramatic. What the hell are you kissing me for? Am I your girlfriend?” I pulled my hands away. “It’s already 1 PM with all this grovelling.”

He laughed, the tension finally breaking.

“I’ll wash the dishes, then we need to take the sheet to wash after that,” Hyunwoo said, heading to the sink.

“Hyunwoo,” I called. He answered with a distracted hmm.

“Do you know whoever tops high school this year gets a fully sponsored trip to the countryside? Isn’t that awesome?”

“Really?” He came running, snatching the pamphlet from my hand.

“Gosh, you’ve got soap all over your hands. At least wash them first!” I scolded.

“So if we both stand first, we’ll get to go on our first trip together. Oh wow!” His eyes sparkled.

“Don’t think so. I feel they’ll only send one person. Our school doesn’t have that kind of budget,” I said, standing up.

“Oh…” His enthusiasm dimmed.

“Don’t worry. I’ll sacrifice. You can go,” I boasted.

“Why would I go without you?” He tossed the pamphlet onto the table and returned to the sink.

“Then I think I’ll go,” I said happily. “You can take care of the house.”

“Why would I let you go without me?” he shot back, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.