𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋. it's my party and i'll cry if i want to

BAKING WAS A SCIENCE, AS RIGOROUS AS CHEMISTRY OR EVEN PHYSICS. There were rules that had to be followed. Too much of one thing and not enough of the other could lead to absolute ruin.

Jieun found comfort in this. Outside, the world was unruly where people prowled with sharpened knives. In baking, there was only order.

Her mother was more traditional on birthdays, seaweed soup was the go-to meal on days like these. While her dad loved to break it, so, after the food he served a grand chocolate hedgehog cake.

At first, store-bought. Then, as time passed, they all had a part in the baking process.

A new tradition, which, Jieun did not, would not, break.

As her father wished.

She still thought of herself as a victim. So did everyone else. Baking seemed the only way to change that. She wanted to pour her runny, sloshing existence into a human-shaped mold and crank up the heat, emerging soft, springy, and new.

So far, it was working.

In the kitchen, she spread twin lines of bowls across the counter, sized according to what they contained. The biggest ones held the base ― powdery mounds of flour and sugar heaped like snowdrifts. Medium bowls were for the glue. Water. Eggs. Butter. In the smallest bowls were the flavors, the tiniest amounts packed the largest punch. Chocolate puree and slight orange zest, cinnamon, and cranberry.

Robby stared at the array of ingredients, uncertain. "What are you going to bake?"

"We are going to bake a chocolate hedgehog cake."

She wanted Robby to witness firsthand the formula behind baking and to experience its safety; she wanted him to see how it's helped her become more than just a girl screaming through the house.

If he believed it, then maybe it was actually true.

Robby remained still, looking first at her and then at their surroundings. He thought the kitchen was cozy, done up in soothing greens and blues. There's a vase of daisies on the windowsill and kitschy potholders hanging from the walls. The appliances were state-of-the-art but with a retro design. Robby's eyes it all with barely concealed terror. He had the look of a feral child dragged suddenly into civilization.

His gaze traveled back over to her slowly, and his skin felt like someone was pricking it with a pin. What a bizarre sensation.

"Do you know how to bake?" Jieun asked.

"No," Robby mumbled. "I microwave."

Then she laughed. A raucous, throaty one that filled the kitchen. He liked the sound. When it's just him in the kitchen, all is silent.

"It's easy," She told him. "Trust me." She assured him, shooting him a smile. Not one meant to dazzle him but to put him at ease.

She positioned Robby before one row of bowls and took her place before the other.

He skimmed the recipe. It was more complicated than he'd anticipated. No wonder those ruined donuts had cost him eighty-four bucks.

"Why are there weights next to the volume measurements?" he asked.

"Most people measure by weight ― it's more accurate ― but some often don't do that." She moved behind the counter at the front of the kitchen and cracked an egg into a bowl.

Well, he better get started.

The problem was that, even though measuring ingredients shouldn't be difficult, he kept getting distracted by Jieun efficiently moving around, measuring things out without looking at the recipe. Everything was automatic to her.

He lightly knocked the side of an egg against the bowl. It didn't crack. He tried again, much harder, and the egg white and yolk dropped onto the floor.

She already had a cloth in hand to wipe up the spill, but he refused to let her clean up for him. This was partly selfishness on his part ― he didn't want her to think he was a stuck-up guy who considered himself too good for things like cleaning.

He might not do a lot of cooking these days, but he knew how to crack an egg.

Or at least, he thought he did.

As he reached down to take the cloth, his hand brushed hers, and he was struck with the strange urge to cover her hand with his and hold on. But he wouldn't, of course.

His second attempt at cracking an egg was better, and he finally managed to get two eggs in the bowl, as required.

This was the first time he'd seen a stand mixer in real life. It was one of those things he'd seen only on TV, on shows like Baking Fail.

Jieun pulled out an attachment that looked different from what he'd expected. In fact, it reminded him of a certain fictional character.

Captain Hook.

"Ahoy, matey!" he said, picking it up. "Where's that rascal Peter Pan?"

She rolled her eyes and it looked like she was suppressing a chuckle.

Mission accomplished.

"It's called a dough hook," she said.

For some reason, he had trouble snapping the dough hook in place. She finally had to show him how to do it ― he'd been turning it the wrong way.

Dammit, he felt like a clumsy mess today.

"Put it on low speed to start," she said, "then turn it up a bit."

He did as instructed and watched as the dough hook combine the ingredients in the bowl. There was lots of flour around the edge, though. He picked up a spoon and was about to reach into the bowl, intending to knock the flour closer to the center.

But before he could do so, he felt a warm hand on his wrist.

"It'll combine," she whispered. "Be patient."

"Really?"

"I'm the expert here, aren't I? I know what I'm doing."

"Aye, aye, Captain," he said with a smile.

She was smiling, too. They stared at each other, and for a moment, everything else seemed to disappear.

And then he snapped out of his trance and looked at his bowl.

She then showed him, step-by-step, how to fold the butter and sugar together without a mixer; combine them with the flour, water, and eggs; layer in the flavors one at a time. Robby formed the batter the same way he talked ― in short, haphazard bursts. Tufts of flour and blots of chocolate rose from his bowl.

"Um, am I doing this right?"

"Almost," she said. "You need to be more gentle."

"You sound like all my old sensei," he joked, even though he was starting to follow her advice and mix the ingredients with slightly less force. The results were immediate. "Hey, it's working!"

"Slow and steady wins the race. That's the Tenth Commandment on my letterboxd."

"You should write a cookbook," Robby grinned. "Baking for Idiots."

"I've thought about it. Just a regular cookbook, though."

"What about a book about you?"

She stiffened at the sound of those words pushed together. Individually, they have no power over her. Book. You. Nothing but harmless words. But when combined they obtain the sharpness of the punch her opponents shoved into her shoulder and stomach. If she blinked, she knew she'll see them emerging from the trees.

So she kept her eyes open, staring at the batter thickening in the bowl in front of her.

"It would be an awfully short book," she voiced.

He's staring too, although at her and not at his bowl. She felt his gaze on her cheek, as warm as the afternoon sun coming through the kitchen window. She got the uneasy sense he was testing her somehow. That I'll fail if she turned to meet his stare.

She continued to take side glances at the boy not too far from her.

It was a bit hard to deal with the fact that he was here, in her kitchen.

Pretending to be a pirate. Wearing a pink ruffled apron.

The apron looked good on him, too. Of course ― she hadn't imagined anything looked bad on Robby Keene. Except for maybe his hair when they had first met. He had his arms folded across his chest, showing off his biceps, and it was a fine sight.

"How did you get into baking?" he asked. "Did you know you wanted to do this when you were a kid?"

"I liked being in the kitchen and helping my parents, but I never seriously thought about it as a career. We make this cake on birthdays, mostly."

The truth was, Jieun had thought it was a silly dream. But then her father died, and that changed the way she looked at the world. The pleasure she got from baking things for herself or even other people, ― it mattered.

Robby's focus was on her, not on the recipe in front of him to see what to do next.

"Sort of a family thing but now," She swallowed. "Now not so much."

"WOW," HE SAID. "IT LOOKS LIKE a real hedgehog." And it smelled great, too.

He shouldn't be so amazed ― Jieun did most of the work ― but he kind of was. He'd never made anything like this before.

And damn, there were a lot of steps in making a cake.

Jieun cut a piece, placed it on a plate, then stepped toward him and held it up.

He leaned in and opened his mouth.

And waited.

He quickly realized he was just standing there with his mouth open like an idiot. Why had he thought she'd feed him? Something about the position of her hand with the fork? He had no idea.

Whatever.

Robby was okay with looking like an idiot. He'd make her laugh.

He quirked the corner of his lips up, as best as he could when his mouth was hanging open, and waggled his eyebrows in an exaggerated fashion.

"You aren't gonna feed it to me?" He teased, but since he kept his mouth open, it probably sounded incoherent to her.

Sure enough, she did laugh.

He was about to take the plate and fork from her hands, but then she lifted it forward until the end of the fork slid between his lips.

It was a cold, freshly made cake, covered in frosting. It smelled heavenly, especially to someone who rarely allowed himself such things.

He wanted to eat it. Oh, he did. But for some reason, he couldn't get past the fact that her hands were inches closer to his face, and he could stick his tongue and lick the frosting off her fingertips.

Instead, he closed his mouth around the fork, at the same time as he gently took the rest of it from her fingers, touching her briefly.

The touch zinged through his body as he had his first bite of the cake.

It was wonderful.

"Does it taste okay?"

Right. He remembered to chew.

"Delicious."

"I was worried because you were standing there like ―"

"Like I was analyzing all the complex flavors? The notes of flour and sugar and puree?"

"Mm-hmm." She held his gaze for a moment and laughed softly.

And oh God, when she looked at him like that, it made his brain completely incapable of rational thought.

"I'll box some up for you."

"Uh-uh. You have to taste it, too."

"But I already know how it tastes, I make it all the time."

He shrugged. "I don't care. I want to eat a slice with you."

He wasn't touching her, but those words made her skin sizzle. He caught her looking and gave her a slow, easy smile that nearly made her legs collapse underneath her. Then he carried the plate over to the counter.

"Are we going to share?" he asked, nodding at the cake.

Right. She'd only cut one slice of cake. A big slice, but only one nonetheless. Like they were splitting dessert at the end of a date.

"Uh, yeah," she said.

"Sounds good to me." He grabbed one of the forks, picked up a forkful of cake with lots of buttercreams, and held it to her lips.

He pulled back slightly and sucked in a breath, "Jiji," he said, stroking his hand through his hair. "Will you go to the prom with me?"

Prom?

She hadn't expected that.

A small part of her did want the whole fairy-tale romance, but she hadn't even managed a relationship with a regular guy in years. She couldn't imagine this working out, even if it was what they both wanted.

She certainly wouldn't say no to Prom, though.

"Okay," she said. "I'll be wearing light blue."

Then, he kissed her as if it was the easiest thing in the world, like kissing was simply the right thing to do when the two of them were together.

An errant thought popped into her head: was it weird to kiss someone after they had just inhaled cake?

Whatever.

For now, she was kissing Robby, and she enjoyed it, the pressure of his mouth against hers sinfully perfect. Even better than the cake they had eaten.

He put his hands on her shoulders and stepped back. She missed the contact, but she did like the way he was looking at her.

"Oh, and, happy birthday."

The box had three big stars made of strong and shiny metal and behind only a few smaller ones. It was a mini treasure chest by design, and in Jieun's imagination, it was a Mary Poppins sort of thing, an ever-giving portal into a dimension of inventions.

Once opened, it didn't take long for the music to start, a beautiful music box. Except, instead of a tiny dancer there laid two koi fish spinning around each other with specks of snow on the pond water they danced in.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

it's my birthday !! ( three days ago LOL )

canon to the book i just didn't know when to fit a birthday scene but hey look how convenient it was that my bday just passed ha

jieun taurus confirmed

dw a real ch in the works !!!

much love,