Jiyeon eyed the sleek, modern kitchen with a mixture of admiration and frustration. Yura, now lounging on the plush couch, was clearly in no rush to do anything remotely resembling cooking.
"So, when you said you were cooking dinner…" Jiyeon started, leaning against the kitchen island, arms crossed, "…you weren't just trying to trick me into believing you'd lift a finger, right?"
Yura, sprawled out like a cat that owned the place, didn't even open her eyes as she responded. "Oh, I'll lift a finger. Just one though—maybe two, if I feel generous."
Jiyeon scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Right. And I'm supposed to just sit here while you figure out how to microwave something? That's cute."
Yura's lips twitched, barely holding back a smirk. "Who said anything about microwaving? I can order takeout with those two fingers. You'd be amazed at what I can accomplish."
