Seasoned Seasons

🌸 🌸 🌸

“Hi, excuse me.”

The waitress ignored her and zipped past, a serving tray in her hand filled with six different dishes.

Minju reached her neck out and peered at the table opposite hers, watching the waitress set down their meals on their table. A pot of piping steaming rice, a plate of leafy green bok choy stir fried with succulent prawns, and a claypot that looked to contain saliva-inducing treasures.

The waitress took the small cloth hanging off her shoulder and wrapped it around her hand, protecting her palm from the blistering heat from the clay cover as she lifted it.

The heavy smell of curried spice and coconutty seafood wafted into Minju’s nose, and her mouth started to water in anticipation of her own order.

She looked at the clock on the wall and stared at the seconds hand that was twirling around the numbers. Then she looked back at the mother who was now stirring the claypot of seafood curry in a similar manner to the ticking of the clock.

12:36 p.m.

“Where's my food…” Minju muttered under her breath as she tried to wave for the waitress again, but she darted to another table behind and gave a couple their order, completely ‘ignoring’ her as she wallowed herself in the busyness of the lunch crowd.

12:43 p.m.

“I only have seventeen minutes left,” Minju mumbled as her lunch break inched towards finality. She tapped her feet impatiently and waved her air-stabbed-fork at a waiter, which he finally gave her a merciful response, pumping his palm out and asked her to wait as he attended to a lady asking for a refill of orange juice.

But he never came.

12:50 p.m.

Minju couldn’t wait anymore.

“Excuse me!” she shouted, her voice thundering across the layered conversations of people chatting and clinking of metal utensils on porcelain plates.

Two waitresses, four waiters, a cashier stared at her, along with thirty-seven pairs of eyes of staff-stealing customers and the hollow pupils of a ghost of silence.

The silence enacted by the ghost was broken by a waiter.

“Yes?”

Minju took in a deep breath and exhaled her forty-three minutes worth of displeasure.

“I’ve been waiting for my food since—”

She pointed at the clock.

“—12:07 p.m.! People who had arrived after me got their food. Where's mine?”

Her finger arced horizontally towards a couple by the diner’s door.

“They came in ten minutes ago, and they're now halfway through their chicken cutlet fried rice and spicy dumpling noodles. Where's mine?”

“M-Maybe they're still cook—”

“Oh don't you give me that excuse,” Minju shot back in irritance. “I only ordered a simple plain rice with a some beef stew, because that's your speciality, but apparently I was just served with a special dose of ignorance and negligence! Now I’m left with what, seven minutes until my lunch break ends, and considering that it takes five minutes to walk back, don’t I only have two minutes left to eat?”

Minju’s face flushed red, wheezing from anger.

“Can you even bring me my food in two minutes?”

“W-We’re sor—”

“Whatever, I’m leaving.”

Minju stood up and grabbed her bag, stomping out of the diner. She frowned at the sweltering heat outside that served nothing apart from giving her welling irritation a huge dose of sweat.

Sighing in defeat, her heart cried at the despair of spending the rest of her day with an empty stomach as she turned to walk back—

“Miss!”

A shout sounded from the alleyway beside the diner.

A young man in a chef attire covered by an apron appeared into view, his name printed on the barely shiny tag stuck on the left of his chest.

“What?” Minju asked in faux annoyance, peering at his name tag. “Are you going to give me my food right now, Mister… Theo?”

“Yes,” he bowed, holding out a paper bag. “It seemed that the waitress that took your order had forgotten to key them into the ordering system. While the manager has reprimanded her, I still think that it is our fault for not showing you attention despite your constant calls for assistance.”

Minju looked at the man who had his head still facing the ground, flustered by the situation.

“I didn't mean for you to apo—”

“No,” he raised his body, looking at her. “It’s not much, but I managed to sneakily put together something for you. Please don't go hungry, it's not a nice feeling.”

He gave another small bow and turned, heading back into the diner.

“Hey!” Minju called out to him. “T-Thanks!”

“Please don't blacklist us?” he chuckled and waved with a smile. “I hope to see you back here!”

He disappeared into the diner.

Minju looked into the bag. It held a small metal tin. The top was transparent and she could see rice tucked neatly to one half, along with three to four assorted dishes randomly squeezed into the other half.

Looks like she'd have to come back and return the metal tin.

🌸 🌸 🌸

“You don’t have to keep doing this, you know?”

“But I want to,” he said, letting go of the lunch box. “Besides, you say that, but your hands are saying otherwise.”

Minju giggled and popped the box’s lid open.

“Well, I can’t let your efforts go to waste, right?” she remarked, removing the chopsticks fastened on the underside of the lid. “And it’s not like I can resist what you always prepare for me. It’s always a treat and an honour even to taste the delicacies of a two-starred royal family’s head chef.”

“Two stars? The only stars I have are the stars I see when I dream of you at night,” he stood up and ruffled her hair. “I’m just a sous chef at a random cheap ass diner who can’t even afford ingredients of minimal quali—”

“Shush.”

“—If I have even one of the two stars that you think I hav—”

“Theo!”

“—I’d throw it across the sky and wish for endless money so that I can cook you the nicest food every day.”

Minju sighed and grabbed on to his arm, pulling him back onto the bench.

“Can you stop lamenting yourself for one second?”

Theo chuckled and leaned back onto the bench’s back rest, squinting at the glowing clouds covering the sun behind.

“You know I am always thinking about you,” he said, poking her cheek with his finger.

“And why aren’t you my boyfriend yet?”

Theo cleared his throat and looked at the imaginary watch on his wrist.

“Aren’t you gonna eat? Time’s ticking.”

Minju pouted and slumped her shoulders, but the moment she lifted the metal lunch box, her annoyance faded. She looked at the food inside — hand cut noodles tossed with a slightly spicy ginger scallion chill oil, topped with a poached egg and meatless numbing spicy tofu stew on the side. She stuck her chopsticks in and loosened the flat noodles slightly before twirling them around the two mini metal poles like spaghetti on the prongs of a fork.

Theo watched Minju put the noodle spiral into her mouth, watching her chew softly with bated breath.

“How is it?”

Minju hummed softly, eyebrows furrowing and lifting in irregular patterns as though they were conductor sticks, waving as they directed the orchestra of flavour explosions in her mouth.

“It’s alright,” she said.

“Alright…” Theo mumbled, his face dropping slightly at the lack of reaction he desired.

Minju’s pupils snaked to the corner of her eyes, glancing at his dejected expression.

“You’re such an easy person to tease~” she laughed, already twirling another mouthful of noodles with her chopsticks. “Why would this only be alright? I could eat it all day everyday.”

Once the noodle spiral was done, she poked a cube of tofu drenched in the numbing tofu sauce, completing her self-made noodle skewer.

“Did you eat?”

“Not yet.”

“Are you not going to eat again?”

“Seeing you eat makes me full,” Theo said. “Besides, you know what they say about cooks. They don’t eat what they cook.”

Minju stabbed the yolk of the poached egg and let the golden goo flow over the noodles.

“Why though?”

“Hmmm… maybe it’s because we’re already constantly dealing with food? At some point it just feels like it’s not enjoyable anymore. Job fatigue or something like that.”

Minju set the lunch box down and looked at Theo. His eyes were weary from onion chopping, shoulders heavy from wok tossing, and his fingers were calloused from constant heat exposure and never-ending hand washing.

He looked exhausted.

But yet, his voice still carried a tone of mellow and content serenity as he closed his eyes and soaked his skin with the rays of the spring sun.

Minju picked up and held on to her chopsticks tightly, making another noodle-tofu skewer before putting it into her mouth. Then she made another as she chewed.

“Mr Theo.”

His eyes shot open at her call.

“W-What’s with the sudden formality?”

Minju stabbed the skewer towards him but stopped it right before his mouth.

“Eat.”

“What? No! That’s your share.”

“Eat.”

“I’m not hungry, really.”

Minju’s eyes narrowed.

“If you’re not going to eat, I’m never meeting you again.”

Theo’s eyes darted to from her face to the chopsticks, then back to her slitted eyes.

“Okay, okay,” he said, opening his mouth in defeat.

Minju stuffed the food into his mouth which he reluctantly closed his lips, pulling the noodles and tofu off the chopsticks with a slide.

“How is it?” Minju asked, watching Theo chew eagerly as if trying to make it a point to her that he was in fact eating.

“It’s good,” he said. “The flavours are well balanced, and it isn’t too spicy, which is what you always like.”

Minju listened and picked up another piece of tofu with the chopsticks, putting it in her mouth.

“So, if you already know the answer, why did you ask me earlier?”

“I—”

Minju sighed and rested the chopsticks back into the lunchbox. She raised her hand and readied her fingers onto Theo’s forehead, giving him a hard flick.

“Ow!” Theo exclaimed, rubbing the redness that was already starting to form on the skin between his eyes.

“You. Should. Take. Care. Of. Your. Self.” Minju frowned and scolded, her fingers already preparing for another flick.

“Alright, alright! I promise,” Theo murmured in defeat.

“I don’t trust you.”

“I swear!”

“No,” Minju said. She picked the lunchbox back up and passed it to Theo. “Half. Let’s share.”

“But I made that for you…”

“Share,” she insisted. “Blame it on yourself. Who asked you to not take care of yourself and only focus on me? Do you think it would make me feel good if you fainted from hunger?”

She pushed the box into his hands and looked at him, her expression softening slightly.

“Theo.”

“Yes?”

“Those chopsticks contain my saliva.”

“…And?”

Minju turned her head away from him, her cheeks blazing red.

“And that was my first indirect kiss.”

The moment those words left her mouth, she stood and picked up her handbag, running away in shyness.

“Wh—”

Theo held on to the lunchbox, dumbfounded at Minju’s words. He raised his fingers and touched his lips, his mind wandering off into a dream in broad daylight.

“First… kiss…”

His cheeks flushed red.

Watching Minju running off into the distance, Theo gave a shout at the top of his lungs.

“See you tomorrow!”

Minju stopped behind a blooming cherry tree farther away. She placed a hand over her chest.

A strange warmth.

She turned back and looked at him.

Theo was still sitting on the bench, smiling as he finally continued to eat the lunch she had forced him to share.

Minju smiled without realizing it.

Then she turned and continued home.

☀️ ☀️ ☀️

She opened the doors to their house.

“You sure this is going to work?” Minju asked as she walked in.

“Do you not trust me?” he replied, carrying a carton filled with popsicle sleeves into the room from behind her.

“I do, but I don’t trust myself…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’m equally as clueless. But I’m sure it’ll be fine? We have the recipe from your mom, and it's summer. I’m sure they’ll sell like hotcakes.”

“I sure hope so…” Minju muttered. “So what do we do first?”

He picked up the recipe that Minju had left on the kitchen counter and read it.

“We’ll need some heavy cream, condensed milk and vanille extract,” he said. “We’ll just need to errrr… mix them all together as fast as we can and freeze it.”

Minju took out the ingredients as he read them off the list, and reached for a large bowl and whisk.

“So, how much?” she asked.

“That, is a very good question,” he said. “I have no idea. There aren't any numbers the recipe. You sure you didn't miss them out when copying?”

Minju frowned and took the paper from him.

“Copy? This was the exact piece of paper I tore from my mother's cookbook.”

He stared at her and gave an awkward laugh.

“Well… I guess we have much to worry about then.”

“Why?” Minju asked. “We could just delay the opening, right? Right until we get the right ice cream formula?”

“I… spent all our money on a no refund loan of the shop cart for a week. There are no allowable changes to the rental period, so if we don't even break even during this coming week, we're goners.”

“And the rental starts tomorrow?”

“Yep,” he said, giving an awkward smile.

Minju laughed and picked up the whisk, her other hand grabbing on to the scissors.

“Well, looks like we don't have much of a choice. Let's just try our best.”

He nodded and took the scissors from her, opening the pack of heavy cream. Emptying the entire packet into the bowl, he slid it to Minju, who started whisking as fast as she could. Meanwhile, he took a can opener and opened several small metal cans, the soft grinding sound of metal on metal filling the air. Pulling their lids up, he pushed them over and poured the condensed milk into bowl while Minju mixed.

“Say, why did you choose a cart with no refund option?”

Looking at how her vigorous whisking had started to slow down, he took the whisk from her and started stirring.

“I just thought that if we're already going to be spending our precious money, we might as well get the best cart possible.”

The heavy cream was starting to foam from the agitation as he stirred, the mixture slowly turning into a thick creamy paste.

“I just didn't expect that the recipe would have no numbers…” he mumbled.

“I’m not even mad at you, so why are you feeling down?” Minju asked. “Plus, it's partly my fault as well. I should have checked beforehand.”

“Oh well,” he sighed, scooping up the paste with the whisk. The paste flowed off the gaps between the thin metal, and he repeated this motion several times as he evaluated the mixture with uncertainty.

“I think that's enough? It looks like melted ice cream already.”

“How long does it take to freeze them?” Minju asked.

“About six hours? At least that's what I've heard from my friends.”

“Right, so we won't know how it’ll turn out until midnight. Whatever, we ball. Let's start making the different flavours.”

He nodded and opened a bottle of vanilla extract, giving the mixture a generous dose of black liquid gold.

“So, what did you get?” he asked.

Minju pulled out a bag of groceries and put them on the table, before taking out the smaller bags inside.

“Strawberries, mangoes, grapes, chocolate chips, rice puffs.”

“Praise the King! You’ve even got chocolate rice?”

He picked up the bag of colourful rice, shaking it excitedly.

“That's a good choice! Kids will definitely love it.”

Minju and him began splitting the mixture into different batches, each one for a different flavour.

They chopped the strawberries and mangoes into bite-sized chunks, mixing them into each batch. Once they gave the batch another good mix, they began pouring the thick viscous liquid into the popsicle sleeves.

“There we go, strawberry flavoured popsicles done,” Minju said, looking at the thirty or so sticks lying on the kitchen counter. “Into the freezer they go.”

He smiled and gathered them on a tray, bringing them to the freezer. They continued to finish up the rest of the popsicles, and by the time they were done, it was already close to dinner time. A good two hundred popsicles were all stuffed into the freezer, and they both stared at the numerous colourful sticks that was barely hardening before closing the refrigerator door.

It was now time to wait.

“I'm starving…” Minju complained.

“Shall we head out for dinner?” he asked.

“It's so hot outside though… I’m so sweaty. Let's just order in.”

He nodded and picked up a communicator, calling the nearest restaurant.

“What did you get?” Minju asked.

“Some spicy noodles and spicy tofu stew. We gotta combat the heat with more heat. Sweat it all out.”

“You always know what I like without me telling you,” Minju grinned. “Oh, I did buy some watermelon, shall we make some punch? I remember that we have some soda that is expiring soon.”

“Sure,” he nodded. Taking the quarter cut watermelon from the grocery bag, he began chopping the red flesh into cubes, throwing them into a fancy crystal bowl.

Minju grabbed four cans of soda and emptied them into the bowl, not before tossing the remaining leftover strawberries and mangoes into the bowl and gave it a good mix with a ladle.

“I could be a chef,” she boasted, giving the punch a small nod of approval after stealing a sip for a taste test.

“It's just fruit in soda,” he chuckled, scooping the punch into two glasses. He stuck a straw and an ice cream spoon in both glasses and topped it with some leftover mint leaves that had been sitting in the chiller for a week.

“Let's drink while we wait,” he said, walking towards the courtyard.

He took a seat on the wooden bench and Minju promptly joined him, settling by his side. She leaned back slightly and perched her body with one of her hands, the other holding on to her precious watermelon punch. Her body was flushed from the summer heat and glossy from sweat, but she paid the unpleasant feeling no mind while she sipped on the cooling fruity beverage.

“I love spending time with you like this,” she said. “I don't know why, but it feels like I’ve done this with you before. Countless times. Well, maybe not exactly the same, but yeah, if you get what I mean.”

He grabbed on to her hand and gave it a small squeeze.

“Maybe it's just your dreams? You do mumble in your sleep quite often.”

Minju sat forward and scooped a watermelon chunk into her mouth.

“Hmm… maybe. Anyway, it's not like it's anything bad. Probably déjà vu or something.”

Right then, a mini disc floated into their courtyard, a plastic bag hanging off it. It slowly descended, setting the bag down before flying off.

Their dinner had arrived.

He walked over and picked up the bag, bringing it back to the wooden bench. Untying the knot, he took out two metal tins before passing one to Minju. She opened it and took a whiff at the noodles within.

“They smell awesome~” she hummed.

He popped open the last container filled with spicy tofu stew and placed it between both of them, before running to the kitchen to fetch a sharing spoon.

"Let's eat,” he said.

The two of them chatted over dinner, but it was mostly Minju just listening to him talk. There was no end to the way he took care of her. One moment he was scooping a ladle full of vegetables and tofu for her, the other he was running back to the kitchen to refill her empty glass with more watermelon punch.

“Hey, y’know, what if we don't manage to even earn back enough to cover the rental?” Minju asked, slurping another mouthful of spicy noodles. “Or even sell half of the popsicles?”

He set his food down and reached his hand forward, wiping the beads of sweat that was flowing down her cheek. Sweat from both the summer heat and spicy food.

“We try again,” he said. “Summer’s just barely started after all. We could take the opportunity of the coming week to test our recipes.”

“But we don't really have any more money,” Minju mumbled, finishing up her last mouthful of food. Her lips were swollen from the spice, and she was desperately trying to “unswollen” it through her watermelon potion.

“You don't want anymore?” he asked, pointing at the remaining food.

“I'm full~”

He picked up the bowl of tofu stew that was almost empty and ate directly from it.

“I am an advocate of positive thinking. I refuse to believe that we can't sell any ice cream at all. How bad can it be?”

“I don't know?” Minju chuckled, laying down on the wooden bench, a palm placed over her belly that was full from dinner. “You know, there's this quote the King always says.”

“The one about some law or something?”

“Yea, he named it after himself, calling it King Cole’s Law, saying Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.”

“Weren't there rumours that he stole the quote from a guy named Murphy?” he asked as he finished all the remaining food before picking up his glass of punch and sipped from it.

“Well, a lady named Miss Rumour whispered in my ears when I was shopping at the market, saying that there isn't a guy name Murphy anymore after he made noise about plagiarism. Miss Rumour speculated that he was offed.”

“Wow,” he said, leaning forward to poke her belly, telling her she'd get fat if she lied down immediately after dinner. “Oh well, no one can go against the King after all. Anything can be considered as treason if it displeases him. Anything else you heard from… Miss Rumour?”

“A few, but as I said, they're all baseless claims. There's one about a failed attempt to summon an evil god, and another about a brewing war with the heretics. There's even one about the launch of an anti-hair loss shampoo that's said to make a bald man grow half a metre of hair overnight!”

He laughed at the ridiculous stories that Minju spewed.

“Say…”

He looked at her with a puzzled expression.

“Yes, my dear Minju?”

“I don't know why, I'm always getting the feeling of people leaving me, or maybe me leaving people.”

She sat up and stirred her almost empty cup with the long spoon, stabbing and crushing the watermelon chunks within into chunks.

“What's gotten into you?” he asked, inching forward to rub his hand on her sweaty forehead, brushing the sweat off her wet and soaked hair. “Has the heat gotten to your head? You want to take a shower?”

Minju stared into his eyes, looking at his shining pupils, a million thoughts seemingly running through her mind.

“Caelan,” she called.

“Yes?”

Then her lips parted to ask him a question softly.

“Will you ever leave me?”

🍂 🍂 🍂

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

He looked at her who had set down her knife and fork, staring at him with an unquantifiable sadness in her eyes.

“When?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, but there was a subtle crack inside that could never escape Minju.

“Tomorrow.”

He put down his fork and picked up the glass of water from the side, bringing it towards his mouth as the liquid inside shook and rippled with trepidation.

“Then I guess we should make the most of our time left together.”

Minju nodded and stood up, walking to his side. She grabbed on to his hand and pulled him upwards, leading him out of the dining room. He followed her quietly, watching her guide him down the hallway, past the countless windows that showed the setting golden sun. The leaves of the trees were orange-red, signifying the fading warmth of summer as the world around senesced into cool and chilly conditions.

Just like his relationship with her.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he asked, stopping in the middle of their walk.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” she said, stopping to turn and face him. “I know that you’ll worry because you always worry, and I didn’t want our remaining time spent together to be full of nothing but worry.”

She looked down at his hands and gripped it firmly.

“I’m sorry.”

He looked at her in the eyes. He thought of the times where they were inseparable. One time he was going out for a run with her, another she joined him as he tended to the shrubs and bushes in the courtyard.

He was always smiling.

And she was always smiling.

“I love it when you smile,” he said softly. “And I love it even more because you make me smile.”

Minju looked at him, her cheeks raising gently, face beaming into a wider grin.

“Then let’s keep on smiling.”

She pulled him into her embrace and hugged him tight, and he squeezed her even tighter.

“Shall we?” Minju said. “I don’t want to forget you.”

“Will you ever forget me?” he asked.

Minju let go and pulled his hand again, tugging him down the hallway, right into their room. The moment he entered, he was swirled with a tender force, and the next thing he knew, his back was met with the soft cushions of their mattress. Silky soft hair hung down her face as she looked at him in the eyes, her soft yet firm hands planted on either side of his head.

“Minju…” he muttered, his eyes drunk with desire.

“Today’s the last day I’ll be called by my name,” she whispered, her lips lowering onto his. Her breath was hot against his, and she could feel herself losing the little control she had left. “Tomorrow, I’ll only be known as Commander.”

Minju pressed her forehead against his, tears welling up in her eyes.

“So please… call my name like it’s the last time.”

She pressed her lips onto his, kissing him with all her love.

The love she gave to him.
The love she had for him.
And the love she had reserved for him.

Her heart wrenched with every passing second. She cupped his face as her tongue drove deep, drinking in his sadness and resentment at the world that stole them from each other. Their breaths drew short amidst the kiss, but neither of them wanted to let go of each other.

After what seemed like an eternity, he pushed her off and flipped her onto the bed, his body now mounting hers.

“Minju.”

She looked at him with glassy eyes. Her face was no longer pristine from the make out and her hair was in a mess, random strands splayed across the soft cushions, but neither of them cared.

“My dear,” she mumbled, blushing at the way he was staring at her.

“Minju.”

He reached towards the buttons on her dress and began loosening it.

“Minju.”

Each time he called her name, he removed a button. He made his way down, releasing her soft mounds from constriction, exposing the deep valley of her chest, airing the smooth and milky skin of her navel. He gently grabbed onto her sleeves and pulled them downwards, releasing her satin-soft, velvety skin that was supple as he undressed her entirely.

He took a look at her.

One look.
Rays from the sun of the golden hour humbly graced her skin, casting their radiance on her.

A second look.
An aura of shyness emanating out from the iron-willed goddess as she covered her breasts in embarrassment.

A third look.
The forbidden warmth that was pulsing out from her core, one that was set to replace the dying summer heat.

He took many more looks at her, carving the memory of her beauty, her gaze, her breath, her smell… the memory of her into his mind.

“How long will you be gone?” he muttered, latching his mouth onto her earlobes, nibbling it softly.

“As long as it needs to be,” she grunted, shivers sent down her spine.

“When will you be back?” he asked, biting on her nape.

“As soon as I am done,” she moaned, her hands wrapping around his back.

“When will I see you again?” he growled, suckling one nipple as he kneaded the soft flesh of her other breast.

“When the war ends,” she cried, back arching off the bed from the incomprehensible pleasure.

He removed his clothes and tossed them to the side. They were now both naked and bare, bodies pulsing with the wanting heat and need for each other.

“You’re so hard,” she hummed, wrapping her fingers around his length. “Much harder than ever.”

He shivered as she gave him a few small strokes, drinking in the pleasure that he will probably never get to feel anymore. Kissing down her belly, he breathed at her snatch, before taking in a deep whiff of her addictive scent.

“You’re so wet,” he grunted, giving her wetness a long, drawn-out lick. “So sweet.”

Pressing his lips forward, he gave her folds a few rubs, making out with her pussy as he drank the nectar that was dispensing from within.

“I could drink this all day,” he mumbled with muffled groans, “but that’s not what we need right now.”

Lifting his body, he lined up the tip of his hardness and rubbed it up and down, mixing his leaking devotion with her craving wetness. He pushed in slowly, revelling in the parting of her folds, watching her eyes flutter and close in pleasure as he split her apart.

“I need you, Minju,” he declared, pressing his length further into her core. He felt her walls ripple and quiver around him, moulding into a sheath that was perfect for the shape of his cock. “And you need this. You need me.”

Minju hugged him close and nodded with desperation, feeling how he stretched her raw.

“Yes, only you. Always you.”

Once he was fully embedded in her, he leaned down to give her a deep, torrid kiss. At the same time, he lifted his hips and drew out his cock, feeling how her pussy squeezed and pulled, refusing to let him go.

But he forced it out.

Slam.

He plunged back in.

Minju yelped in pleasure, biting softly on to his lips, drawing out a drop of blood that she tasted with fervour. She felt his hard tip smash into her deepest spots, feeling the impact shock joy out into her bloodstream.

He pulled out again.

“More—”

Slam.

And more he delivered.

He pulled and pushed, withdrew and enter, unsheathed and sheathed.

He fucked her hard.
He fucked her with ferocity.
He fucked her with desperation.

He fucked her.

She took his cock.
She took his pounding.
She took his hammering.

She took him.

Each plunge into her depths made her cry out in euphoria, and each slide into her walls sent her towards nirvana. The bed was shaking as if an earthquake of unimaginable magnitude was tremoring throughout the plates of the world, but it was incomparable to the brewing disaster welling up in both her mind and core.

She was close.

Each pump of his cock into her wanton pussy sent her hurtling towards the edge. The edge which made her eyes roll and flipped her world upside-down. The edge which she wished would never disappear. The edge which she wanted to savour for the rest of her life.

“Minju.”

Her eyes flicked into focus as she answered his call.

“Minju.”

Her mouth parted and her throat dried.

“Minju.”

Her body trembled and shook, toes curling into unloosened arcs.

“Minju. Minju. Minju.”

He pumped into her with increasing intensity, pounding his fucks into her like his life depended on it. He watched her soul phase in and out of Styx, each easing pull making her faint, each crushing strike jolting her from unconsciousness.

She was close.

“Come for me, Minju.”

Right at that moment, she shattered on his command. She squealed and writhed as he continued pumping into her throughout her orgasm, her wetness exploding out to coat his length in warm tidal waves. Squelches filled the room and sex rivers soaked into the sheets as her orgasm waned, but he did not stop pumping.

Her eyelids were barely open, half-lidded from the pleasure that had swallowed her whole, but she could not faint, not before he filled her full. She cupped his face with both her hands and looked into his eyes, imprinting the look of his unending love and looming sadness that was drawn all over his face.

“Come for me, Trevor.”

He grunted and groaned and roared and moaned, unleashing waves after waves of come, filling her pussy with whiteness. She wrung the seed out of him, devouring it all with voracious hunger, making sure to not let a single drop go to waste.

After what seemed like eternity, he collapsed on the bed beside her and looked at the ceiling above, muttering softly.

“Please don't die.”

❄️ ❄️ ❄️

He was dead.

The tombstone carved with the words of solemnity.

The best colleague.
The loveliest husband.
The kindest father.

Minju stood up and set the white lily on the grave. She looked at the snow that covered the stone slab, watching the falling powder of chill that was sprinkling all over her flower. Soon it will be buried underneath all the other countless white lilies, yellow chrysanthemums and pale pink roses.

Just like how life that had ended was buried by brown snow.

She walked out of the graveyard with swollen eyes, trembling hands that were streaked with tears and snot. She shuffled through snow that reached half of her shin, wading through the white, powdered river that was filled by the punishing winter cold.

She opened the door to her house.

The warmer was already turned on and the soft glow of light from within offered her some solace from the pale white dusk outside.

She took off her boots and chucked them to the side to let the snow melt and dry, before settling into the warm, pillowy couch with her legs curled and tucked into her chest.

She stared at the ticking clock on the coffee table, watching time pass as if it were an infinite resource, except that it wasn't.

Infinite in relation to everything else unaffected by time, finite in relation to everything affected by time.

Life.

“Hey.”

A soft voice came from behind her.

She turned and looked at him, her sadness slightly fading into a soft, lethargic smile.

“Crestet,” she muttered, watching him settling into couch beside her.

“How are you feeling?”

She drew in a deep breath and leaned on his shoulder.

“It's ironic isn't it? He was such a good man. Friendly, doting, loving… he didn't deserve to die so young.”

Crestet hummed in approval and took her hand, rubbing the her palm with his calloused fingers.

“I was just thinking, life is such a fleeting thing. One moment you're working your hardest, trying your best to live life to the fullest, doing everything you can to make life better. The next? You could be struck by lightning. Killed in a car accident. Maybe choke on a fishball and die. Or like him, chosen to meet Death himself with a heart attack as the invitation.”

Crestet listened intently, absorbing all the sadness and frustration that Minju spewed.

She talked about her friend's life, how he had been closely supporting him from when they were childhood friends, how he had gave her both anger and happiness as a wonderful companion when they were playing at the woods, when they were mugging books for exams, when they were drinking their frustrations out from the overbearing boss.

Then she stopped.

She looked at her fingers.

“You know, I dream a lot.”

“I dreamt of a man named Theo who brought me lunch everyday despite being just a sous chef.”

“I dreamt of a man named Caelan who made ice cream popsicles together with me.”

“I dreamt of receiving love from Trevor who gave me his all despite me leaving for war.”

“I dreamt of Gary who shook and carried me out of a bar when I was drunk, tucking me safely into my bed even though I vomited all over him.”

“I dreamt of Marx who shielded me from the torrential rain with his only raincoat which got him drenched and subsequently sick with a high fever.”

Minju played with her hand, fiddling with the imaginary pen that was nested between the gaps of her fingers.

“I dreamt of many things. But everytime I try to remember his face, nothing comes up.”

She took a deep breath.

“Every dream ends right before I remember his face.”

She turned and looked at him.

“Every single one of them made me feel the way you made me feel.”

“I’m confused. I’m lost. I don't know what's going on with me.”

Minju started to cry.

“Are you angry?”

Crestet stared into her eyes and simply smiled at her.

“Were you happy in those dreams?”

Minju nodded.

“Are you happy right now?”

Her lips wavered at the question, but an answer came out immediately.

“Yes.”

The man leaned in and kissed her forehead.

“Then that's enough for me.”