The Flavor of Persistence

You briefly stretch your wrist while driving; it’s stiff because you didn’t move it away from her hand for two hours. Her small rest turned into a two-hour nap. She slept soundly, and you didn’t dare to interrupt it.

While driving, you kept glancing at her through the rear-view mirror. She stared outside, watching the lively, colorful streets outside the mobile.

The current situation you’re in is oddly familiar; the same sound hummed through the car’s vent, the way she stared outside with her dreamy eyes, it’s all the same when you drove her to her family's house, which pushed her to propose marriage to you.

“I know I’m pretty, but eyes on the road.” She talked, exactly the moment you took another glance at her.

You cleared your throat, “Sorry.” You apologized; she was right. Safety is your priority,

“It’s either you’ll crash the car, or you’ll crash your heart with mine.” She lets out a tiny giggle, her vision still locked outside.

“Don’t say things like that; it might happen.” You fixed your posture, paying double attention to the road.

“...”

“What might happen? The car crash or heart crash?” She finally looked at you. Your eyes met hers through the mirror.

The car had been stopped since the light turned red. There’s no harm in locking eyes with her.

She smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile as well. It happened too fast; the sixty-second traffic light timer went into a blur.

“...”

“Drive.” She turned her face sideways, facing through the car window once more.

You kept your eyes on the road, but somehow, the pressure in your chest felt far more dangerous than the traffic.

After a few minutes, you arrived at her penthouse. The cool white sconce acted like a guiding light while the silence was deafening. The ambiance of her apartment was nice; she probably chose it to suit her taste. Considering how comforting it is, you can tell from your experiences whenever you are here.

“We’re here, Ma’am.” You told her before you got out of the car. The cold breeze of the night passed through the walls of the parking lot, kissing your skin. As you approached the back seat area–

“Thanks.” She stepped out of the car by herself; this time, she did not wait for you to open it up for her.

“Then, have a nice night, Ms Lee.” You bowed, bidding your goodbye like you used to. It was already that time of the night.

She did not respond; you guessed that’s it, so you turned your back on her. But she spoke the moment you took a step away–

“Wait.”

You stopped, turning back to face her. Did she have something to say? You wondered; she might have some reminders for you that she needed for tomorrow’s schedule.

“Yes, Ms Lee?”

“Do you… Want to have dinner with me?” She just stood there, her lips curled up.

Right after she said it, the cold wind just blew, her hair beautifully flown. As if an entity was telling you how could you refuse an offer from someone as beautiful as her?

“I, uhhh.”

You hesitated.

Not because you wanted to refuse.

If anything, you had already decided the moment she asked.

“...”

She patiently waits for you.

“Sure.” There’s no way you can refuse it.

She just smiled and walked. She gestured for you to follow her, which you did. She did not need to tell you where to go; you frequently fetched her during the morning and drove for her at night.

But it’s the first time she asked you for dinner at her place.

While you were waiting in her living room, an appetizing smell touched your hunger. Whatever she was cooking, you could instantly tell that it was really good. Though you insisted that you’d cook instead, she just stared coldly at you, enough to tell you that she’d take care of it.

“I could’ve just cut potatoes.” You muttered as you watched her do everything.

One by one, she placed the well-cooked meals at the table. She had everything from rice and steaks to main and side dishes. Everything was there as if she already knew that this was going to happen.

Every move she made was screaming elegance, like a figure skater in the middle of her icy apartment.

“Just wait here; I’ll go change.” She said before disappearing into her room.

“...”

You were comfortably sitting at her dining table. If this were a year ago, you could’ve been trembling with nervousness. However, things have changed drastically. You’re not there to report statistics for her; you’re there to eat with her.

“It’s getting cold.” You’re talking about the food right in front of you. The table’s set already, food’s hot and ready to be consumed, but she told you to wait since she needs to change first.

A goddess suddenly descended from heaven.

Your time stopped while she moved as she made her way to her spot.

She’s as perfect as a boss can be, but she’s way more perfect as a woman.

“Let’s eat…” She picked up her cutlery, made tiny slices into her meal while you just stared at her, “Hmm? Why?” She was across from you and saw that you were staring at her.

“Hmm? Huh? Ah, yes, right, thank you for the meal.” You snapped at it. You’re way too obvious by the way you look at her. Is it admiration? Or is it something else? You left a question in your mind before digging in.

“Hmm… hmm? Hmm!” There’s a small hesitation at first; you did not know she actually knew how to cook. You hummed on every bite; the meat was tender, the chicken was flavorful, and the juice was fresh from the fruit.

“It’s my first time cooking for someone, and I want you to be the first one to taste it. Don’t worry, I studied.” Her smile never faded even once while she told you her exciting story.

“So, how is it?” She asked for your opinion.

“I never thought you were a good cook.” You gently put your cutlery down, picked the napkin nearby, and wiped your mouth softly. “Tell me honestly, you did not take any special classes or something without me scheduling it?” Her cooking is way better for a beginner; it might even be better than yours.

“Thanks for the flattery, but I just study it alone if I have free time at night.” She’s proud, and you’re happy to see that she has something to entertain herself with after a rough day at work.

“I see, it’s good– no, really good!” Her cooking deserved praise, an extra one.

“...”

The silence made you wonder if you said something wrong or whether there was something wrong running through her mind.

The moment she dropped her fork, her lips curled into a smile- not just a simple smile, the mischievous one. You are right, there’s something she might just have thought about.

“Say, if that’s really good… how about marrying me? I’ll cook for you every night.” 

“Kggh–” You choked up; for a second, you forgot how persistent she is about that marriage thing.

“Is this some kind of bribe?” There’s a tiny cough in between your words.

“Kind of, you liked it, right? And besides, I noticed the way you looked at me, especially when I appeared from my room.” She saw it. “Do you like my bare face that much?” Her words were enough to make heat rush to your face. 

You're too stunned to speak; her confidence is on another level; it suits her well.

“Fine, I’ll cook for you, and I’ll let you stare at my face as much as you like.” She took your silence as a yes.

“...”

You had your jaw dropped the entire time.

You had nothing to say, nothing to respond.

“Eat well.” She smiled, the same wicked smile she had whenever she knew exactly what was running through your mind.

She got you.

She knew that with a few more pushes, you’d eventually give in.

The next day, your workplace is unusually quiet. So you kept looking anywhere she might have popped up; she might be scheming something again.

Ring! Ring!

There it is, the telephone call that breaks the ice of silence.

“Hello, Ms Lee? Do you need something— no, where are you, Ms Lee?” You haven’t seen her since she left an hour ago.

As your secretary, you should’ve known where she is; well, you always did.

“I'm here at the pantry; come here.” She called you

“Okay, coming.”

While on your way to the pantry, you observed that the employees were kind of missing. They might be avoiding being in contact with her, but you can't even tell her to go back to her office, and she's scaring them.

You can see her silhouette through the frosted glass wall; she’s the only one who can emit a kind of scary energy without even trying.

“Ms. Lee.” There she was, alone at the pantry, stirring a coffee.

“Oh, perfect. Here, drink this.” She excitedly handed you a cup of coffee.

“Ms. Lee, before I drink this, why are you here?” You took the coffee she gave you.

“Why? Who owns this place?” She asked you flatly, and her smile disappeared.

“You, ma’am.” You responded politely, and you admitted that you had no right to ask why or what she was doing here.

“Who am I?” It’s like the first time you met her. Is that how badly she took your question earlier?

“You’re the owner of the company, owner of this building, Ms. Lee. Sorry for being unaware of my actions.” You bowed your head, and you stayed still for a moment.

“Is that right?” Her foot shifted; she was directly facing your direction.

“Yes.” You stayed still.

“Then marry me.”

“Yes—huh? No.” You straightened up and saw her grinning. She’s enjoying it.

“Seriously.” You smiled as well.

Apparently, you’re enjoying the things happening lately. The stress you’re feeling isn’t that heavy anymore, and being with her actually brings you comfort instead of being your usual scaredy-cat moments.

“Kgghh–” You almost spit the coffee back into the cup; it’s too bitter for your taste. But there she was, the maker of the coffee, your boss.

“What? Don’t you like it? I followed the instructions from the web.” Just like her cooking, she’s just learning, but the outcome’s way different than what she cooked for you last night.

“I– I like it. It’s just hot, that’s it.” You lied, but it burned your tongue, not because it’s really hot, but because of its bitterness.

The next few days are full of teasing, proposals, and persistence. Jieun is always finding a way to propose marriage to you. She kept booking luxurious restaurants for lunch; she kept saying that it's a date, but it’s far from that since she kept asking you about how your work is.

“How’s the food? The ambiance? Your heart?” She threw a barrage of questions at your weakened defense.

“My heart?” That question caught you in particular.

“Never mind, how’s the new department store construction going?” She switched the topic from personal to professional.

“It’s going smoothly as expected.” You answered her right away, mannerly and straightforward.

“Then, how about our relationship? Is it going smoothly?” She shifted the topic once more, from being professional to a personal agenda.

“There’s no us, Ms Lee.” A few reminders she should consider if she kept bringing it all of a sudden.

“What a rat.” She muttered before filling her mouth with food.

“W-what?” You surely heard it, but you wanted her to say it again, right in front of you, and maybe ask her what the hell it even meant.

“Never mind.” She cut the conversation off.

There was also this one time when she called you for no reason; you just stood there watching her, waiting for her orders, but there were none. When you asked her why she called you, she simply said…

“I just need your presence.” She did not even look at you, her eyes glued to her laptop. She’s doing her work while you just kept standing there like a mannequin, doing no work, though you’re still technically at work.

“Ms Lee, you’re not paying me just to stand here. Do you need anything? If not, let me go back to my desk—”

“Did I say you can go?” Now she’s glaring at you as if she missed a million-dollar business agreement; it’s enough to stop you from moving out of her sight.

“N-no.”

“Then just stay, and besides… I did not tell you to stand there like an electrical post sparking boredom. Sit right there, play some video games, or watch YouTube.” She gestured at the massive lounge chair in the middle of her office.

“B-but Ms Lee, how can I just do what you just said?” It’s still working hours, and you’re not brave enough to have fun and do nothing, especially in your boss’s office. It might be some kind of a challenge, you thought.

“Just! Stay… okay? It’s my hobby nowadays.” Her mind works differently; she had her own ways to entertain herself, and you’re her entertainment.

“What?” You’re her hobby; you doubt it, so you had to hear it twice.

“Watching you, so sit.” She told you to sit, gesturing at her longue once more, treating you like her dog.

Then this time, you were sitting at the same spot you were when she asked for marriage that morning.

It’s not breakfast this time around; it’s dinner. The sun had already hidden behind the curtain of darkness, and the moon took its place, casting moonlight over the landscape.

“W-what is this? This is too much.” You looked over the table as she kept pulling food out of her insulated Gucci bag, but more like Doraemon’s food bag.

“I know you loved my cooking, so I cooked you some. It’s a new recipe I learned just a day ago.” She did not just bring packed food; it was simply a feast she prepared at her home.

“Ms Lee…” You had no problem eating with her since you already overcame that feeling, but looking at the amount of food in front of you, you knew that it was going to be a long night.

“It’s for your dinner since you’ll work— no, we’ll work overtime.” She was wiggling while she took a scoop of brown rice.

“Y-yes…” While you scooped rice for yourself, a part of you began to be dubious since, somehow, seeing how prepared she was, you couldn’t help but wonder if she planned that overtime.

“Is this for another need of presence?” You muttered and couldn’t help but smile at how sly her tactics were.

Is it working?

"Marry me." She said in between her chews.

You put your spoon down.

"Again?"

To be continued…