Chapter 162: You… remembered
The morning sun peeked through the massive windows of the mansion as Jiyeon padded into the kitchen, determined to create the most luxurious breakfast Yura had ever seen. After the weirdness of the previous night where Yura had
almost
figured out that Jiyeon was planning something she wanted today to be perfect.
Jiyeon stretched her arms, rolling her shoulders before diving headfirst into the kitchen. She had an idea for breakfast that would combine both Korean and French cuisine into something that would blow Yura's cold, rich socks off.
"Alright, let's get to work. Time to impress that cold-hearted CEO again," Jiyeon muttered to herself, as she grabbed a pristine white apron and tied it around her waist.
That's when it happened.
[Good morning, Chef Jiyeon. You've been slacking, haven't you?]
Jiyeon nearly dropped the carton of eggs she was holding. "Oh, for the love of kimchi, you again?!"
[Of course. Did you miss me? You've been avoiding your missions. You can't possibly think—]
"Look, I've been
busy
," Jiyeon interrupted, waving a hand at the air as if trying to swat the system away. "Running a restaurant, keeping Yura from finding out about your annoying existence, and planning this whole fancy breakfast thing? I don't exactly have time to cater to your endless demands."
[Excuses. I expected more from the culinary genius who won over a tyrant CEO omega.]
Jiyeon rolled her eyes. "You seriously never shut up, do you? Why don't you give me a break for once?"
[Breaks are for the weak, Jiyeon. Now, focus. You've got an important meal to prepare.]
She huffed, shaking her head and getting back to her task. First up, she decided on the
pièce de résistance
: a fusion of
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gyeranppang
(Korean egg bread) and
croque madame
. It would be fluffy, buttery bread, filled with perfectly runny eggs, a béchamel sauce, and a generous helping of prosciutto instead of regular ham. The fusion of Korean street food and French elegance? Absolutely genius.
She started by whipping up the dough for the gyeranppang, carefully mixing the flour, sugar, yeast, and warm milk. Kneading the dough with precision, she muttered to herself about the system's never-ending presence.
"You're like an annoying boss that's always looking over my shoulder."
[You flatter me.]
Jiyeon snorted. "It wasn't a compliment."
Once the dough was proofing, she moved on to the béchamel sauce. In a pan, she melted butter and added flour, whisking it until the roux was smooth. Then came the milk, which she poured in slowly, stirring until the sauce thickened to the perfect creamy consistency. A dash of nutmeg, some salt, and pepper later, and it was done.
[Are you sure you're not rushing this? Yura has high standards. She might fire you from her life if this isn't perfect.]
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Jiyeon muttered sarcastically, turning her attention to the eggs. She cracked them carefully into small bowls, one by one, making sure the yolks stayed intact. They had to be
just right
runny and golden, so Yura could cut into them and be greeted with that Instagram-worthy yolk porn.
While the béchamel was resting, she started preparing the prosciutto. She fried thin slices in a pan, letting the fat sizzle and the meat crisp to perfection. The smell filled the kitchen, making Jiyeon's stomach growl.
"You know," Jiyeon said aloud, her tone more conversational now, "Yura probably doesn't realize how much work goes into something like this. She's all 'oh, Jiyeon, why don't you cook more,' like it's that easy."
[She does enjoy the fruits of your labor. But perhaps you should start charging her a restaurant fee.]
Jiyeon laughed, arranging the fried prosciutto on a plate. "You know, that's not a bad idea. Maybe I'll invoice her for emotional labor too."
After assembling the gyeranppang-croque hybrid, she set them in the oven to bake. Now came the finishing touch—a salad, but not just any salad. Jiyeon had a vision:
grapefruit and gochujang vinaigrette
, a Korean twist on a light French-inspired dish. She segmented the grapefruit with surgical precision, careful to avoid breaking any of the delicate slices. The vinaigrette was a mixture of gochujang paste, vinegar, honey, and a splash of olive oil. It was the perfect balance of sweet, spicy, and tangy.
As the gyeranppang baked, filling the kitchen with the comforting smell of bread and cheese, Jiyeon moved on to her pièce de résistance of the morning:
matcha-dusted soufflé pancakes
. Light, fluffy, and decadent, they would be the perfect sweet end to an otherwise savory breakfast. She beat the egg whites into stiff peaks, folding them gently into the batter with care.
[Are you overcompensating? Is this all because you're guilty about yesterday's secrecy?]
"Could you, just for once,
not
psychoanalyze me while I'm cooking?" Jiyeon groaned. "I'm not overcompensating. I'm just… putting in extra effort. There's a difference."
[If you say so.]
After a few more minutes of work—and not-so-subtle back-and-forth banter with the system the breakfast was ready. Jiyeon laid it all out on the table: golden-brown gyeranppang-croque hybrids, crispy prosciutto on top, dripping béchamel and perfectly cooked eggs oozing out; a fresh, vibrant salad of grapefruit and greens with that spicy-sweet vinaigrette; and finally, a towering stack of matcha-dusted soufflé pancakes, ready to be drenched in syrup.
She was just putting the finishing touches on the table when she heard the familiar soft footsteps of Yura descending the stairs.
"Oh, here she comes," Jiyeon muttered under her breath. "Time to impress."
Yura, in her usual morning elegance, strode into the kitchen. Her hair was slightly tousled, but her icy CEO demeanor was still intact, even if it was early. She blinked as she took in the spread.
"Wow," Yura said slowly, looking from the table to Jiyeon. "You really went all out, didn't you?"
"Only the best for my wife," Jiyeon said with a dramatic bow, grinning up at Yura.
Yura's eyes flicked over the dishes, her curiosity piqued despite her usual aloofness. "What's all this?"
"Fusion breakfast," Jiyeon said proudly. "Gyeranppang meets croque madame, with a side of grapefruit-gochujang salad and matcha soufflé pancakes."
Yura raised an eyebrow. "Fancy."
"Well, you are fancy, so I figured it suited the theme," Jiyeon said, pulling out a chair for her. "Come on, sit. Taste it before it gets cold."
Yura took a seat, eyeing the croque hybrid suspiciously before cutting into it. The second the egg yolk oozed out onto the béchamel and prosciutto, Yura's expression softened, if only for a moment.
"This is… incredible," she said after taking a bite, her voice almost begrudging. "You never cease to surprise me."
Jiyeon sat across from her, flashing a smug grin. "Told you. You underestimate me, babe."
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Yura savoring every bite while Jiyeon watched her like a hawk. After the meal, when Yura was clearly satisfied and leaning back in her chair, Jiyeon decided it was time.
"Hey," Jiyeon said casually, "before I forget, I got you something."
Yura raised an eyebrow, sitting up a little. "Oh? What's this about?"
Jiyeon reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box, sliding it across the table with a sheepish smile. "Happy six months together."
Yura blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting this. "You… remembered."
Jiyeon snorted. "Of course, I remembered. What kind of partner do you take me for?"
Yura looked at the box for a moment before slowly unwrapping it. Inside was a set of matching custom cufflinks and earrings, simple but elegant. The tiny engraved inscription on the back read,
Our time together is precious
in delicate script. It wasn't flashy, but it had meaning. Yura's fingers grazed the smooth surface of the cufflinks, her sharp eyes catching the light reflection on the polished metal. She stared at the inscription for a beat longer before looking up at Jiyeon, her cold exterior melting just a little.
Yura held the cufflinks in her hand, feeling the weight of them, and then looked at the earrings nestled beside them. They were understated yet beautiful, much like the sentiment behind them. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, her icy exterior giving way to a warmth she usually kept buried deep.
"This is perfect," Yura whispered, her tone genuine. She glanced up at Jiyeon, her gaze softer than usual, a glint of gratitude and something more in her eyes. "Thank you."
Jiyeon's grin widened, clearly pleased with Yura's reaction. "I'm glad you like it. I wanted to get something meaningful, you know?"
Yura nodded, her fingers gently brushing the engraving again before she set the box aside. She stood up from her chair and took a step toward Jiyeon, closing the distance between them. "You always know how to surprise me," Yura said, her voice low, almost teasing, but there was a different kind of intensity in her eyes now.
Jiyeon blinked, suddenly aware of how close Yura was. "Well, it's part of my charm," she said, attempting a casual tone, but her voice wavered slightly. Yura's gaze was piercing, and Jiyeon could feel the temperature shift in the room.
Yura didn't say anything else. She simply leaned in, her hand sliding up Jiyeon's arm, fingers curling around her shoulder, pulling her closer. Their breaths mingled for a moment, a brief pause where the air between them seemed to thrum with tension. And then, Yura pressed her lips against Jiyeon's, the kiss soft at first, testing, as if savoring the taste of something long-awaited.
Jiyeon's eyes fluttered shut as she responded instinctively, her hands finding Yura's waist, pulling her in as the kiss deepened. The world seemed to fall away, leaving only the warmth of Yura's body against hers, the slow, deliberate movement of their lips as they explored each other. Yura's fingers slid up to the back of Jiyeon's neck, threading through her hair as the kiss became more urgent, more consuming.
Jiyeon let out a soft sigh, her grip tightening on Yura's waist as their bodies pressed together. The kiss was intense now, filled with a hunger neither of them had fully acknowledged before. Yura's lips were demanding, but there was a tenderness in the way she moved, as if she wanted to memorize the taste of Jiyeon, to hold onto this moment forever.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other. Jiyeon opened her eyes to find Yura's gaze locked on hers, filled with a mix of desire and something deeper, something she didn't often let show.
"That was… unexpected," Jiyeon murmured, a teasing smile tugging at her lips, though her heart was racing.
Yura smirked, her thumb brushing against Jiyeon's lower lip. "You're not the only one who can surprise people, Jiyeon."