chapter 5

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The convenience store owner must have had a lot of thoughts on seeing a man clad in a vest and creaseless cotton pants, buying ointments and some boxed dinner sets. But he refrained from asking anyone of those questions. Instead, he only asked in a very monotonous voice, "will that be all?" 

"Yes," Joon  replied. He gratefully picked up all the items along with the carry bag, and rushed back to the restaurant. Within minutes, Cyan was done patching up his burnt hand. To Joon, he looked phenomenally great wearing his shirt. It gave butterflies to Joon — the anticipating kind — where he was still positively terrified of his feelings, but some amount of reciprocation made the process less hurtful. 

Who knew having a crush was that hard?

"Sorry, but I should leave. I haven't picked up my daughter yet and it's half past seven," Cyan said apologetically. His hand was still hurting. Joon could see that in his eyes. Still, for the sake of courtesy, that man bowed down to his drunk-out-of-wits seniors first and informed them he was leaving. 

"How will you go?" Joon asked, following Cyan out of the restaurant. He had neither patience nor the politeness to still act respectfully to his superiors. They were drunk. They wouldn't even remember what happened. 

"I'll take the subway, but oh well I should leave now —" 

Joon grabbed Cyan's good hand and pulled him back, the look in Cyan's wide eyes one that of confusion and hesitation. 

"I'll drive you," Joon offered. "To home." 

_______

Seo Cyan's daughter was just like Seo Cyan. And in Joon's heart, all hopes of her being adopted, or some relatives daughter, or even a child that Cyan was raising for no apparent reason, were crushed. There was no doubt that the child was Cyan's. 

She was the only child left in the daycare centre, and she burst into loud tears as soon as she saw Cyan. Cyan squatted down to her level and soothed his daughter in an embrace, running his hand over and over on her head in attempts to pacify her. 

"You're late," the daycare teacher gave Cyan a pessimistic smile, "you're usually early." 

"Sorry, I got caught up," Cyan said simply, then picked his daughter up and bowed his head to the teacher once. Joon didn't have a first hand experience for that but he did know that a father showing up at the daycare centre to pick up the child every single day, with no trace of a mother… people talk. 

And they talk about all sorts of horrible things, not caring about the truth or what consequences their talks might have on a child. 

Cyan's daughter was too spent up crying to notice Joon. And he himself felt odd to go and introduce himself to the child, especially when she wouldn't even let go of her father's neck. Joon wondered how much she loved her. And how attached she was. 

Because Joon's father had never shown him affection. All they ever talked about was marks and admissions and numbers and statistics. The same applied to Joon's sister as well. He wondered, how would life be with one parent, and then a thought struck him — when he was a child, he didn't care about all that. He just wanted everyone to be happy. 

Maybe, his parents had also wanted him to be happy. And had tried to make him happy in a way that they had thought he would be happy. 

"You can sit in the back with her," Joon said when they reached the parking lot and neared his car, "I'll drive." 

"Oh… can I?" Cyan said, holding his crying daughter close. "Won't that be rude?" 

"No," Joon smiled. He opened the car door for them and saw how delicately Cyan put the seat belt on for the daughter. Playing the part of two people, and trying to keep the mask of a smiling face… surely, it was tiring. 

Wordlessly, like a taxi driver, Joon sat in the front and drove Cyan to his apartment. A considerably decent, upscale apartment with a large playing ground and slides in the shared common plot. 

"Thank you very much, thank you —" 

Joon silenced him with a soft look. "That's what friends do," he said. Friends. He had put a name to their relationship. That slightly hurt, because from friends, people either went to lovers or just stayed as friends… forever. But friends was better than colleagues. 

"Thank you," Cyan said softly, cradling his sleeping daughter on his hip. "How could I ever repay you?" 

"Buy me lunch, or go out with me for a few drinks sometime. Just us." Joon said, putting his hands in his pockets and looking away, giving Cyan a good view of his sharp, square jawline. 

"Alright," Cyan said, "can I call you over to my home? I'll be taking a day or two off and then there's the weekend, so…" 

Invited home straight on the first date. Joon's heart soared. Maybe things were off pace but who cared about traditional ways of courtship anyway? 

"Give me a call, I'd love to come. And I'll bring cake. Do you like cake? There's a good bakery nearby…" Joon didn't realise when he started rambling. 

"Pineapple cheesecake," Cyan said, "Lala likes those." 

"Sure," Joon grinned, "I'll be here. Tomorrow. Give me a call." 

"Good night." Cyan took the hand of his sleeping daughter and waved it, his eyes still staring fondly into the distance where Joon left. 

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