Jiyeon sighed deeply, rolling her shoulders back as the remnants of adrenaline faded. The pop-up dinner at The Rose Manor had gone better than she could have expected—well, aside from the usual chaos caused by Kang's "help." But now it was over, and she could finally go home and rest.
Or so she thought.
Yura, catching Jiyeon's tired look, placed a hand on her shoulder. "We need to get out of here before someone decides they want to 'thank the chef' for the twentieth time."
Jiyeon groaned. "God, please no. I've had enough small talk to last me a lifetime."
Kang, however, wasn't about to let Jiyeon escape so easily. "What's wrong, Chef? Not in the mood to bask in all the praise for your culinary genius?"
Jiyeon gave him a withering look. "I've had enough 'praise' tonight. If one more guest tries to talk to me about their 'refined palate,' I'm going to drown myself in the lobster bisque."
"Ah yes, the rich and their so-called expertise," Yura added, rolling her eyes. "I swear, that one guy thought his ability to pronounce 'foie gras' made him a food critic."
"Don't remind me," Jiyeon muttered, rubbing her temples. "He wouldn't shut up about how his 'taste buds have evolved' since trying caviar on a yacht in Monaco."
Kang laughed. "That's nothing. I overheard one woman telling another guest that your kimchi-stuffed escargot was 'life-changing' because it 'connected her to her ancestors.'"
Jiyeon stared at him blankly. "Please tell me you're joking."
"Wish I was." Kang grinned, clearly enjoying her discomfort. "She was dead serious. Said it with her whole chest."
"Her
ancestors
?" Jiyeon repeated, incredulous. "Did they live in a snail farm or something?"
Yura chuckled softly, leaning against the counter next to Jiyeon. "Hey, at least they liked it. Just take the compliments and run."
"Run being the key word here," Jiyeon muttered, glancing toward the kitchen door. "Is there a back exit? Preferably one that leads straight home so I can avoid any more of these people."
Kang smirked. "Planning your great escape already?"
"You bet I am," Jiyeon replied. "And if you two have any sense, you'll help me get out of here before—"
The kitchen door suddenly creaked open, and one of the event staff poked their head in. "Excuse me, Chef Jiyeon, there's a group of guests who would love to meet you. They've been asking for a few minutes of your time."
Jiyeon's eyes widened in horror, and Yura smothered a laugh with a cough. Kang, on the other hand, looked far too amused by the situation.
"Now's your chance," he whispered, winking. "Run while you can, Chef."
Jiyeon shot him a glare that promised violence, but before she could respond, Yura stepped in smoothly, her CEO demeanor taking over. "I'm sorry, but Chef Jiyeon is quite exhausted after tonight's event. I'll pass along her gratitude, but she won't be able to greet any more guests tonight."
The staff member blinked, clearly taken aback by Yura's firm tone, but nodded quickly. "Of course, I'll let them know."
As soon as the door closed, Jiyeon let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Thank you."
Yura gave her a small smile. "You owe me one."
"I'll bake you cookies or something," Jiyeon muttered, waving a hand dismissively. "Let's just get out of here before they find another way to trap me."
Kang, still leaning against the fridge with a smug grin, raised an eyebrow. "You sure you don't want to stay and mingle? I mean, there's probably a whole crowd out there just waiting to tell you how 'divine' the crème brûlée was."
"Uh-huh." Yura raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing her. "Every time you get that faraway look, it's either about food or you're plotting something. Which is it?"
Jiyeon chuckled, rubbing her eyes. "Honestly? I'm too tired to plot anything right now. But maybe I was thinking about a midnight snack when we get home. Or better yet, just passing out the second I step through the door."
Yura smiled knowingly. "Midnight snacks it is. I'm not letting you fall asleep on an empty stomach. Not after the night you've had."
Jiyeon grinned. "I thought I was supposed to be the one making sure you're fed."
"Well, we can switch roles for one night," Yura replied, leaning back against the seat. "Though I make no promises about the quality of my cooking."
Jiyeon laughed. "I've seen you make ramen. It's pretty solid. I won't complain."
"That's all I need to hear. I'll take that as high praise from a professional."
The banter between them felt easy, natural, like slipping into a warm bath after a long day. It wasn't the stiff, awkward exchanges they used to have in the beginning, back when everything felt more like an obligation. Now, it was... comfortable.
Too comfortable, Jiyeon realized. And that was dangerous. She'd built a wall around herself for a reason. Letting Yura get too close was risky. But then again, maybe it was already too late for that.
The car finally pulled up to their mansion, and Jiyeon sighed with relief. Home. She could almost hear the bed calling her name.
They stepped out of the car, and Jiyeon stretched, feeling the tension in her muscles ease slightly. "You know, for someone who spends most of her time working in a kitchen, I am surprisingly out of shape."
Yura chuckled as she locked the door behind them. "You say that, but you're always running around like a maniac. It's no wonder you're exhausted."
"True," Jiyeon admitted, yawning as they made their way inside. "Maybe I should consider an actual vacation one of these days."
"I think that's the first reasonable thing I've heard you say in weeks," Yura teased, switching on the lights.
Jiyeon shrugged, kicking off her shoes. "Don't get used to it. I'm sure I'll be back to my chaotic self by morning."
Yura smiled softly, watching Jiyeon with an expression that was almost too tender. "You're not as chaotic as you think."
Jiyeon narrowed her eyes playfully. "Are you trying to butter me up?"
"Is it working?" Yura shot back, walking past her toward the kitchen.
"Maybe," Jiyeon called after her, feeling the corners of her mouth tug upward despite herself.
She followed Yura into the kitchen, where her wife had already started rummaging through the fridge. Yura, who always had that cool, composed exterior, now looked almost... domestic. The sight made Jiyeon's heart do a weird little flip, and she quickly turned her attention elsewhere, trying to ignore the strange warmth spreading through her chest.
"So, what are we having?" Jiyeon asked, leaning against the counter.
Yura straightened, holding up a carton of eggs and a half-empty container of kimchi. "Omelets?"
Jiyeon raised an eyebrow. "Not ramen?"
Yura shook her head. "I felt like getting fancy tonight."
Jiyeon smirked. "I'll give you a hand then. Let's see if we can make this the best midnight omelet we've ever had."
Yura smiled, and for a moment, everything felt right. The chaos of the evening, the exhaustion—it all faded away as they stood together in the kitchen, side by side, making something simple, something that was just for them.
Jiyeon wasn't sure when exactly her life had shifted to this point, but for the first time in a long while, she didn't mind.