curiosity kills | lee minho

t w e n t y - o n e

c h a p t e r 21

"Your cooking sucks."

Minho pursed his lips, nodding. "Is that why you inhaled the entire table?" He asked, gesturing to the squeaky clean plates in front of them.

Gyeoul gave a blank stare. "I have a tendency to overeat. Especially when it's garbage."

"Mhm." He hummed unbothered, pouring a glass of water.

"As an advocate for the environment, I feel responsible to eradicate all hazards and so you should cook for me again." She said flatly.

Minho smirked before sliding the glass in front of her. "Already asking me for a second date?" He raised a brow.

She gave a sarcastic smile. "I believe it's called 'charity work'."

Apart from the whole yacht lunch in the middle of the ocean, Gyeoul was glad that their date was finally safe to consider normal. Not that she was expecting piranha fishing. She was actually surprised that three hours had already passed with them just dining and talking. She learned a whole lot more about him in those hours as compared to knowing the guy for months. Another thing that surprised her was the fact that she paid attention. Usually, if it were any other man, she would have just nodded along to whatever boring childhood stories they have. But with Minho, she found herself asking questions!

For some reason, her skin prickled as he told stories about his high school. It all seemed familiar to her but she brushed it off, convinced that she probably watched a film with the same plot. If it wasn't already obvious, she had the memory of a dog.

She was able to contribute into the whole exchange of stories without revealing too much information. Enough to not raise any additional questions at least. She wasn't a mafia leader or any of the sort. And no, she didn't have any terminal illness. She was just uncomfortable with having to share her past. Again, it wasn't anything big as well. She just found it confusing to find the point in delving back into the past when one can just look forward into the future. For herself, at least.

The sun was close to setting when the yacht was finally docked back to the marina. They agreed to watch the sun set before deciding on going back to the villas to prepare for the ride back to the city.

Their feet was dangling right of the edge of the yacht. It was all so surreal. The sun was setting in front of them, casting a beautiful golden glow. It was a challenge for the both of them to not stare at each other. They forced their eyes on the horizon. It didn't help that they were at close proximity. They've been sat next to each other for the whole day but in that moment, everything seemed to heightened. If it weren't for the brushing of the wind, the two would probably be suffocated by now. Suffocated by their own thoughts.

Minho was resting his weight on his two arms that were propped up behind him while Gyeoul had her arms propped on the useless railings–useless because it would save no one if someone were to fall overboard. Anyway, with him a little out of her peripherals, he took the opportunity to stare at her instead.

They always had that silence between them. It always followed them at the end of the day. He didn't mind. And so he was a little surprised when she spoke.

"What are we?" She asked, eyes still set on the horizon.

Minho did not expect the question. He pondered for a moment before mimicking her position next to her. He propped his arms on the railings as well. "What do you want us to be?" He asked back. He had an answer to her question. He was just afraid of hers.