Glow

...Makes Perfect

The next morning I wake up to noise. For a moment it's almost like being back home.  My sister running like a mad child around the house, dad shouting at mom while he's busy cooking... but none of the voices are female, and no one sounds like dad.

Only after cleaning up and getting dressed do I finally face the world outside my new bedroom. Opening the door I can hear muffled conversations, music being played-halted-reset to a point-played again. 

With the count of "TWO THREE FOUR" piercing the door to the hallway that leads to my room I quietly walk to the door, pausing before it. Do I want to interrupt? Interfere? Interact?

My stomach rumbling answers my questions. I need food, and they would just have to be okay with that. Nodding firmly I open the door. 

****

The pounding of feet on wood floor, the squeak of rubber soles against the smooth surface, the melodic tones almost drowning those sounds... the smell of sweat. Dear gods the smell of male sweat.

I am frozen, trying my best not to gape. It's a struggle. Suddenly being aware of the desperate need to breath makes me gasp. I swallow their scent whole with the breath, and at the sound they as one turn.

It was like I was back in the audience, watching them on stage, only with a much better view. Their smiles upon seeing me made me take a step back, as I let go of the door handle, finally.

The snik of the door latching was almost lost to the music still blaring and their deep measured breaths as they paused to... look at me.

Shit. I am the center of attention again. FML. Gasping again, because breathing seems to be non-autonomous at the moment, I break my stance by the door and walk away from them, heading to the kitchen. 

I can feel them watching me. Reminding myself not to hunch in reaction I walk a little faster. I can hear Taehyung murmur something and the music is turned off. I ignore it, or at least try to look like I am. 

Finding leftovers of the dish from last night I put together a plate, grab some more mushrooms and the... I'm just gonna call it spinach. After cooking up the vegetable side I invented for myself last night I sit at the island, not facing them directly, and focus on eating.

'Aaahhhh...' I hear in my ear. I flinch, eyes wide and look over my shoulder.... at Taehyung, mouth open wide enough to eat my whole hand.

I move to one side. 'Umm... what are you doing?' I ask, shocked.

'He wants a taste.' Namjoon all but shouts from the space where they are practicing. Looking over I can see Jungkook giving him pointers on tempo and foot placement, and look back at the grinning Taehyung. Seeing my focus on him again he grins and points to my plate. 

'Veggies.' He says proudly in English. 'Aaahhh...' now pointing to his mouth, the twinkle in his eyes is full of curiosity and humor. I cock my head and consider.

He is the one member who dislikes spice at the level the Korean society considers normal. I would guess he puts up with the options he's usually offered... so he wants to see what my food is like. 

Nodding I make a forkful for him and bring it to his mouth. With a bit of chewing and a swallow he nods, his eye brightening. 

'Joh-eun!' He shouts, getting everyone's attention... and with that I interrupt the practice they were in the middle of. 

I am quickly surrounded by the rest of them, all asking for a taste. Instead of hand feeding each of them I pull out a handful of chopsticks and place them on the counter before abandoning my plate and heading back to the fridge to get the last of the ingredients for my concoction, planning on making more.

The silence behind me is unexpected. Instead of the clack of utensils, chewing and conversation... there's silence. Putting down the ingredients I slowly turn around, to see I am the center of attention again.

'What?' I say, exasperatedly.

'Nothing...' Hoseok says, confused.

'Umm, why are you not eating?' says Seokjin

'You guys came over to eat off my plate. I need to make more.' I reply.

Namjoon quickly apologizes, bowing. I can see the comprehension glowing in their eyes as they become aware of the situation.

'Stop, stop.' Seokjin says, coming over to the stove area. 'Let me taste, see if I can make it. You, eat.' He all but orders. Nodding I step aside and head back to my plate. After Seokjin follows and tastes what I made, humming to himself, he turns to the ingredients I have already pulled out and starts cooking. 

As I work on the food on my plate I watch him move about his kitchen. It's obvious he's comfortable here, and with a few barked orders in Hangul both Yoongi and Jungkook add into the fray, gathering  meat and that spicy pickled veggies concoction from the other fridge.

Soon everyone is busy, getting dishes, silverware, cups, stools and tall chairs. 

It seems to all come to a conclusion at the same time, with the three men in the kitchen turning around with platters of food to set down, the rest straddling their seats to join me in eating.

Watching this dance of cooperation I find I need to remind myself to chew. It's not quite telepathy, but their years of choreography practice makes them all in synch, it seems, whenever they all agree to do something. It's startling... and I guess I'm going to have to get used to it.

Seokjin holds his chopsticks in front of me, a bit of his attempt at my veggies held up for me to taste. Pausing, as I am not used to being fed, I nod and take the taste.

It's close. I can tell he used vinegar instead of lemon, and there's a warming spice as well, I think cinnamon or all-spice... but it's not spicy-hot. I nod.

Taehyung quickly grabs the next taste himself. Even with his mouth full he's commenting on it. I can tell he appreciates the new option, but I think he's also comparing the two different flavors, mine and Seokjin's riff on it, making the others curious about the differences.

In the end they all request a sample of mine to compare as well, and while everyone likes Seokjin's version, some preferring it, Taehyung keeps reaching with his chopsticks to steal from mine. I just smile and let him

And his glow changes, pulsing.