Jiyeon stretched, her arms reaching high above her head as she let out a small groan of exhaustion. The day had been long, and despite her promises to Yura, she had once again found herself caught up in the whirlwind of running both the restaurant and overseeing the new branch. She was good at what she did—too good, sometimes. And it had a way of swallowing her whole, if she wasn't careful.
Her phone buzzed on the counter, snapping her out of her thoughts. She glanced at it, expecting a message from one of her staff or suppliers, but instead, Yura's name flashed on the screen.
Yura: Did you remember to eat today, or are you planning to pass out at the stove again?
Jiyeon couldn't help but chuckle. Yura knew her too well. She tapped out a quick response.
Jiyeon: Relax, I had something. I'm not going to faint in the kitchen…
A moment later, her phone buzzed again.
Yura: Define 'something.' If you're about to tell me it was coffee and a single croissant, I'm coming over there to drag your ass home.
Jiyeon rolled her eyes, though she couldn't suppress the smile tugging at her lips. Yura could be protective to a fault, especially when it came to Jiyeon's tendency to overwork herself. But it was one of the things Jiyeon loved most about her.
Jiyeon: Fine, fine. It was coffee, but there were TWO croissants, okay?
She knew that wouldn't placate Yura, and sure enough, the next message came almost instantly.
Yura: Unbelievable. Do I have to hire a babysitter for you?
Jiyeon: Are you volunteering?
Yura's response took a little longer this time, and Jiyeon could practically hear her girlfriend's exasperated sigh through the phone.
Yura: Only if I get paid in foot massages and snacks.
Jiyeon smirked, setting the phone down for a moment as she turned her attention back to the task at hand. The kitchen of her flagship restaurant was pristine, as always, the scent of freshly cooked dishes lingering in the air. She was preparing a few new menu items for the upcoming weekend rush, testing the flavors and tweaking the ingredients to make sure everything was perfect.
As she stirred the sauce simmering on the stove, her thoughts drifted to Yura. Over the past few weeks, Jiyeon had been so busy with the restaurant and the new branch that she hadn't had much time for them to just be together. Yura had been understanding, but Jiyeon knew she couldn't keep using work as an excuse forever.
The thought made her stomach twist with guilt, and she quickly shook it off. Tomorrow, she decided. Tomorrow she would make it up to Yura.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Jiyeon frowned—she wasn't expecting anyone this late.
"Who the hell…?" she muttered to herself as she wiped her hands on a towel and headed toward the front of the restaurant.
When she opened the door, she was greeted by the sight of one of her staff members, Chef Kang. He was an older man, gruff and no-nonsense, with a permanent scowl that made him look like he was always in a bad mood—even when things were going well.
"Chef Kang? What are you doing here? It's late," Jiyeon said, crossing her arms.
Kang grunted, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "I had to talk to you. Found the mole."
Jiyeon's eyebrows shot up. "The mole? In the restaurant?"
"Yeah, someone's been leaking our recipes to that damn rival place down the street," Kang said, his voice low and gruff as always.
"Leaking recipes?" Jiyeon frowned. "I thought we had that locked down."
"We did," Kang said, his tone dark. "But someone's been sneaky. I followed up on a hunch, and I caught the bastard red-handed."
Jiyeon couldn't help but smirk. Kang was relentless when it came to protecting the restaurant, and for good reason. "Who was it?"
"One of the new hires," Kang said, shrugging. "Thought he was smarter than he was. But don't worry, I handled it. Got him out of here and made sure he won't be pulling that crap again."
Jiyeon raised an eyebrow. "You didn't kill him, did you?"
Kang gave her a sidelong look, a rare hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "No, boss. He's not worth the prison time."
"Good," Jiyeon said, sighing. "Last thing I need is a murder on my hands."
Kang chuckled. "Wouldn't be your first scandal."
Jiyeon rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the update, Kang. And thanks for handling it."
"Anytime," Kang said with a grunt, turning to leave. "Oh, and don't forget—you've got that meeting with the suppliers tomorrow morning. Try not to be late this time, eh?"
Jiyeon gave him a mock salute. "I'll be there. Promise."
As Kang walked out the door, Jiyeon felt her phone buzz again. She glanced at it, seeing another message from Yura.
Yura: Don't think I've forgotten about your terrible eating habits. I expect a full meal report tomorrow, or there will be consequences.
Jiyeon smiled, shaking her head.
Jiyeon: Yes, ma'am. Full meal report incoming. You're impossible, you know that?
Yura's response came quickly.
Yura: And you love me for it.
Jiyeon couldn't help but laugh softly. Yeah, she did.
The night had grown quieter, and Jiyeon allowed herself a moment of calm, the lingering warmth of Yura's texts settling over her like a soft blanket. She stared at the simmering sauce, her mind wandering.
Then, with a mischievous grin, she grabbed her phone and fired off another message to Yura.
Jiyeon: I'm thinking we skip the whole 'babysitter' idea. How about you just come here tomorrow night, and we settle this with dinner?
Yura's reply was immediate.
Yura: Is that code for 'I'm going to cook for you and win you over with food'? Because if it is, you're on.
Jiyeon stood in her restaurant's kitchen, smiling at the phone screen as Yura's last message popped up.
Yura: Is that code for 'I'm going to cook for you and win you over with food'? Because if it is, you're on.
Jiyeon could practically hear Yura's teasing voice in her head, that playful, slightly smug tone that always made Jiyeon want to simultaneously roll her eyes and kiss her at the same time. She typed back quickly:
Jiyeon: Oh, I'm definitely going to win you over with food. You won't even see it coming.
She set the phone down and sighed, glancing at the clock. It was getting late, and she knew she should probably head home soon, but the restaurant had been buzzing with energy all day, and there was something calming about being in the empty kitchen after hours. It was her domain, her sanctuary. A place where everything made sense.
She ran her hands over the clean countertops, feeling the cool, smooth surface beneath her fingertips. Her mind wandered to the menu she wanted to plan for tomorrow. What would Yura enjoy? She needed something impressive but also comforting—something that said "I care about you" without being too flashy.
Jiyeon had always believed that food spoke louder than words. Every dish was a message, a reflection of her mood, her passion, her creativity. And with Yura, she wanted to make something personal, something that captured what she couldn't always say with ease.
Her eyes darted around the kitchen, taking in the ingredients that lined the shelves, the fresh vegetables in the fridge, and the aromatic herbs she always kept on hand. An idea began to form in her mind. Something simple, yet elegant. Something rich in flavor, but not overwhelming.
A slow-cooked beef stew, maybe. Rich, hearty, and paired with buttery mashed potatoes. She could already imagine Yura's eyes lighting up at the first bite.
"Yeah," Jiyeon muttered to herself, nodding as she started to mentally organize the prep work. "That'll do the trick."
Just as she was about to start pulling out ingredients, her phone buzzed again. She glanced down, expecting another message from Yura, but instead, it was a notification from the restaurant's system—a quiet ping that signaled a new review.
Jiyeon groaned. Reviews could be a mixed bag. Most were positive, but every now and then, there was that one customer who thought they were Gordon Ramsay and had to let everyone know just how terrible they thought her food was. She braced herself, tapped the notification, and read the latest comment.
Anonymous: Had the best meal of my life at Jiyeon's tonight. The flavors were out of this world. If I could eat her food every day, I'd never leave! Five stars, no question.
Jiyeon smiled, her chest warming with pride. Moments like that made the long hours, the stress, the late nights—all of it—worth it. She pocketed her phone and turned back to the stove.
As she pulled out a pot and started prepping for tomorrow's meal, her mind drifted again to Yura. Their dynamic was an interesting one—Yura always so polished, so put together in her business suits and sleek hair, while Jiyeon often found herself with flour on her face or a smudge of sauce on her apron. They were different in so many ways, yet somehow, they balanced each other perfectly.
Jiyeon chuckled, imagining what Yura would say when she saw her tomorrow, likely fussing over Jiyeon's inability to take proper care of herself. Yura loved to mother her, which, if Jiyeon was being honest, she didn't mind one bit. It was nice to have someone looking out for her, even if it came with the occasional scolding.
She grabbed the ingredients for the stew and started chopping onions, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board soothing her nerves. There was something meditative about cooking—about the process of turning raw ingredients into something magical. It grounded her, especially when her thoughts spiraled, like they sometimes did after a long day.
As the onions hit the pot with a soft sizzle, Jiyeon smiled to herself. Tomorrow was going to be good. She'd make sure of it.
She finished prepping the vegetables and set everything aside for tomorrow's dinner. With a satisfied sigh, she wiped her hands on her apron and leaned against the counter, her mind already drifting to what the evening might bring.
Yura would walk in, probably tired from a long day at her company, but the second she smelled the food, her face would light up. Jiyeon could picture it now—Yura sitting at the table, laughing, teasing Jiyeon for going overboard with the fancy dishes, and Jiyeon pretending to be offended while secretly loving every second of it.
They'd eat, they'd talk, and for just a few hours, there would be nothing but the two of them and the food that connected them.
Jiyeon smiled to herself, feeling a sense of contentment settle over her. Maybe things weren't always perfect, and maybe she didn't always have time for long, romantic evenings, but tomorrow—tomorrow would be different.
Tomorrow, she'd make sure Yura knew just how much she cared.
She grabbed her phone again, typing out a quick message before she could second-guess herself.
Jiyeon: You better come hungry tomorrow. I'm pulling out all the stops.
A few moments passed before Yura replied.
Yura: Oh, I wouldn't dare come any other way. Just make sure you don't burn the place down before I get there.
Jiyeon laughed, her heart lighter than it had been all day.