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."
"Takeout? In the middle of nowhere?" Jiyeon shot back, incredulous. "What are you planning to order, wild boar pizza? I think the nearest civilization is about thirty miles away, babe."
Yura finally cracked one eye open, her smirk fully emerging. "You'd be surprised. I have connections."
"Oh, I'm sure you do. The 'CEO powers' stretch all the way to remote cabins now, do they?" Jiyeon couldn't help but laugh. "I bet you've got a private chef on speed dial, just waiting for you to call."
Yura stretched luxuriously, sitting up slightly to meet Jiyeon's gaze. "You say that like it's a bad thing. But no, this weekend, I've reserved a different chef. One who's standing in my kitchen right now, trying not to break out her apron."
Jiyeon shot her a playful glare. "Absolutely not. I'm on vacation. You dragged me out here to relax, and if you think I'm going to cook after all of this..." She gestured dramatically toward the beautiful scenery outside the window. "...you're more delusional than I thought."
Yura chuckled, pushing herself up off the couch and sauntering over to the kitchen, her smirk never leaving her face. She stopped just short of Jiyeon, leaning against the island with a casual confidence that made Jiyeon's heart do a little flip—annoyingly so.
"Relaxation means different things to different people," Yura said, her tone teasing. "For you, it's probably throwing yourself into cooking something ridiculously gourmet and pretending you're not enjoying it. For me, it's watching you squirm while I pretend to be helpless in the kitchen."
Jiyeon arched an eyebrow, her arms still crossed. "So this is a game to you? You just want to see how long it takes before I crack and take over?"
Yura shrugged, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. "I have to entertain myself somehow. Otherwise, I'll die of boredom out here in the wilderness."
Jiyeon groaned, throwing her hands in the air dramatically. "Unbelievable. You're the worst."
"And yet, you married me," Yura said with a grin. "What does that say about you?"
"It says I must have had a momentary lapse in judgment," Jiyeon fired back, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.
Yura leaned in, her voice dropping to a low murmur. "Or maybe, just maybe, you secretly love the chaos I bring."
Jiyeon pretended to consider this for a moment before shaking her head. "Nah. Definitely a lapse in judgment."
Yura laughed, the sound rich and warm, and for a moment, the tension between them evaporated, leaving only the playful banter they'd built their relationship on. Jiyeon couldn't deny that she loved moments like these—where they could poke fun at each other without any pretense, just enjoying the back-and-forth like an old married couple who'd perfected the art of teasing.
Still, there was the matter of dinner. And despite Yura's obvious delight in trying to make her snap, Jiyeon had a plan.
"Alright, fine," Jiyeon said, pushing off the counter and walking over to the fridge. "But if I'm cooking, it's going to be on my terms."
Yura tilted her head, intrigued. "Oh? And what terms are those?"
Jiyeon pulled open the fridge door, scanning the contents with an appraising eye. "Simple. I'm going to teach you how to make something. You're going to get your hands dirty for once."
Yura blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Wait, you're serious? You want me to cook?"
"Oh, you bet I do," Jiyeon said with a wicked grin. "And don't think you're getting out of this one. If I have to suffer through your presence in the kitchen, you're damn well going to suffer too."
Yura raised both hands in surrender, though the glint in her eyes suggested she wasn't opposed to the idea. "Alright, alright. I'll play along. But don't say I didn't warn you—I'm a disaster in the kitchen."
Jiyeon smirked, pulling out a few ingredients and setting them on the counter. "Good. I'll enjoy watching you struggle."
"Well, someone has to take control before you burn down the cabin," Jiyeon quipped. "Keep the heat steady, and don't move the fish around too much. Just let it sear. Even you can't mess this up."
Yura narrowed her eyes, her competitive streak flaring up. "You'd be surprised at my talents."
"I'm fully aware of your talents," Jiyeon said, her grin widening. "But cooking isn't one of them."
Yura remained silent, focusing on flipping the fish at just the right moment. For a second, Jiyeon had to admit—begrudgingly—that Yura was handling it better than expected. The fish had a golden-brown crust, and it was searing nicely, no smoke in sight.
"Not bad," Jiyeon said, crossing her arms as she observed. "Maybe you've got some hidden potential after all."
Yura smirked, her confidence growing. "See? I told you. Multitasking genius."
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"Let's not get carried away," Jiyeon said, fighting back a laugh. "One piece of fish doesn't make you a chef."
Yura shrugged, flipping the fish with a flourish. "I don't need to be a chef. That's why I married you, remember?"
Jiyeon rolled her eyes, though she couldn't deny the warm flutter in her chest at Yura's teasing tone. Despite the playful insults, there was a certain intimacy in moments like these—a reminder that beneath all the sarcasm and banter, their relationship had grown into something stronger than either of them had anticipated.
"Alright, once the fish is done, we'll plate it," Jiyeon said, taking control of the situation again. "And then you're going to make the sauce."
"The sauce?" Yura echoed, her face falling. "Wait, there's more?"
"Did you think we were just going to eat plain fish? What kind of chef do you take me for?" Jiyeon laughed, shaking her head. "Don't worry, it's just a simple citrus herb sauce. You can handle it."
Yura sighed dramatically but didn't argue. She followed Jiyeon's instructions—squeezing fresh lemon juice, whisking it with olive oil, and tossing in a mix of chopped herbs that hadn't fallen victim to her earlier knife massacre. To Jiyeon's mild surprise, Yura managed to pull it off without any major disasters.
"There," Yura said, holding up the bowl of sauce like a trophy. "Presenting: my masterpiece."
Jiyeon eyed the sauce, then Yura, her lips curling into a smirk. "I wouldn't go that far, but it's passable. Now, let's plate this before I starve."
Together, they plated the seared fish and drizzled it with Yura's sauce. As they sat down to eat, the atmosphere shifted from playful to comfortable, the easy companionship between them filling the air.
Yura took a bite, her eyes widening in surprise. "Hey... this isn't bad. I mean, I'm not going to admit it's good, but it's not terrible."
Jiyeon snorted. "You're welcome, by the way. I saved that fish from your incompetence."
Yura grinned, reaching across the table to take Jiyeon's hand. "And you did it with style, as always."
Jiyeon's teasing expression softened as she squeezed Yura's hand in return. "That's what I'm here for."
They ate in companionable silence for a few moments, the earlier banter fading into the warmth of shared time together. Despite the chaos in the kitchen and Yura's dramatic complaints, Jiyeon couldn't imagine spending this evening any other way.
"Well," Yura said between bites, "I guess you'll have to keep rescuing me from kitchen disasters from now on."
Jiyeon chuckled, shaking her head. "As long as I get that foot rub you owe me, I guess I can live with that."
Yura's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Oh, you'll get your foot rub, alright. But don't think I'm not going to make you work for it."
Jiyeon grinned, leaning back in her chair. "You're impossible."
"And yet," Yura said, smirking, "you're stuck with me."
Jiyeon couldn't help but laugh. "Lucky me."