THIS LOVE DOESN'T HAVE LONG BEANS(ENG)

Chapter 19

Plawan used his break to chat on the phone with his best friend.

"So you have to do physical therapy for Mr Methas?"

He furrowed his brows. What the hell? Previously, they seemed to hate each other. And now he was going to undergo physical therapy with him, just like that? If they really hate each other, they should stay away from each other, right?

[Yes, it's a job.] The voice on the other end answered in a muffled voice, perhaps afraid that someone would hear it. [No one else at the hospital was willing to do it, so I had to do it.]

"If no one else wants to do it, you shouldn't do it either."

Plawan teased while chuckling. His friends and Khun Methas are interesting. What makes JJ act so secretive?

[Okay then, let's help each other.]

"Then why did you call me?"

The young man asked jokingly. The other end was silent for a moment, as if the person who had always been smarter was starting to realize that he had revealed something.

[No, I just called to chat as usual. ]

"I thought you were angry and immediately called to report. Oh, okay."

Plawan teased playfully. If JJ didn't really think of it, he wouldn't have called to chat since it was only the first day since he started doing physical therapy with Methas. He could have told him when he was free. But he immediately called to chat. The other party must be thinking about something, right? At least it's not just an ordinary patient.

[You..!]

JJ hung up after talking for a while. He must have gotten carried away because he was cornered. Plawan pouted after the other end hung up. His life in the kitchen was the same as usual, with the cruel head chef calling him for private lessons all the time, only to make his hands sore. What is his problem?

Plawan grumbled to himself. It was now lunch time, which was actually late afternoon. Kluea was nowhere to be found, and he was hungry. He should have teased JJ a little longer, so JJ would have stayed and talked longer. The young man was scrolling endlessly to find a funny show to watch when he heard a knock at the door. 

"Where have you been?...Oh."

Plawan shouted as soon as the door opened because he thought the one who had opened it was his chef friend Kluea. But no, the person in front of him was a fierce-looking chef who was still standing in front of his room. He didn't know if he was imagining things, but he could smell the faint aroma of holy basil coming from the chef. He had already taken off his chef jacket, so why was the smell still there? It smells really good. He made smoked grilled stringray fins with smoked basil today. He really wanted to eat it.

"How's your wrist?"

The person in front of him asked. He turned his wrist to take a look. After the first day, there were many more days, and the young man still had to learn how to use kitchen equipment in a way that didn't put too much strain on his wrists. The head chef in the kitchen was there to supervise his movements. He could barely remember the last time he felt a sharp pain in his wrist.

"Much better, chef." Plawan answered honestly.

"Can I take a look at your wrist?"

He asked in a soft voice, not too soft, just softer than usual. Plawan nodded slightly, not understanding why he was avoiding eye contact. Plawan's eyes lowered, at the same time he extended both hands forward, embracing him gently for inspection.

"Is there pain in your fingertips?"

Chef Aob gently held the tip of the young man's hand before bending his wrist upwards. The muscles at the base of the palm stretched out slowly. Plawan looked at the scene in front of him in silence.You act like JJ, chef. Did you practice physical therapy? Why do you know so much?

"No, Chef."

Maybe it was the gentle touch that made him look at the person standing so close to him. It was true that the chef's hands were rougher than the hands of most people he had touched in his life. What kind of life did the person in front of him live? Kluea had some unfished background story that requred explaining.

Chef Aob gently pressed his fingers into his palm.

The fingers of the person in front of him slowly rotated in the center of his palm. The man continued to ask him questions while examining the young man's hands. The fingers that have been repeatedly touched by the heat of the stove are moved to the base of the thumb muscle and pressed downwards repeatedly. It wasn't pain, but a strange kind of relaxation.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, it doesn't hurt Chef."

Chef Aob turned Plawan's hand upside down and gently stroked the back of his hand, applying gentle pressure along the tendons and small muscles. The pressure was firm but not painful. Until finally, the chef's hand fit perfectly into his.

The young man accidentally looked closely at Chef's face while the man was busy examining his condition. In fact, Chef Aob was nothing like the tough person like  he appears in cooking competitions. He tends to be interested in the small details of the lives of the people around him. But he's just a little stubborn.

He knew he wasn't the only special person in this restaurant. Kluea is often called for intensive cooking lessons. There's another trainee who has allergies, Chef asks about his condition every day. Another one also has family problems, Chef allowed him to take sick leave as long as needed. In fact, Chef Aob often had to come down and help with the work himself.

"Have you worn the wrist brace I recommended?"

"Yes, chef"

"Do you soak it in warm water every day?"

"Yes, chef."

"Do you stretch your muscles before and after work?"

"Yes, chef"

He answered, not lying, but doing everything he was supposed to do. Working in the kitchen was hard, that cannot be denied. And if he didn't take care of everything well, he would never be able to reach the final round of the successor competition. If JJ found out that kitchen work wasn't as easy as he  had imagined, his ears would probably fall off from being scolded to death.

"Good," the chef nodded. "Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?"

The young man raised his eyebrows in confusion. Ready for what? What does the chef mean? The two hands of the person in front of him moved after the examination. After letting go, Plawan raised his hand to rub his head awkwardly, feeling unwell, until he heard the chef's words.

"The test of course. You came here to participate in becoming the successor of this restaurant."

What!

"This Friday is the first test," said the chef as if it were just everyday weather. "I will choose 6 out of 10 applicants."

He couldn't continue.

"I hope you make it through to the next round."

The chef smiled mischeviously, patted him twice on the shoulder before turning and walking away. That crazy chef, he had just praised him for being a good person, and now he was clearly dropping a bomb on him.

What will he do for the exam? Plawan can't even stir-fry basil!