Chapter 10

Naru woke at dawn, cracked the bedroom door open, and peeked his face through the small gap.

The electronic clock on the wall glowed with the number 5.

Careful not to wake Gyuyeon, he tiptoed into the hall, each step measured and light.

Rumble.

His stomach growled on cue. Naru’s internal clock never lied: if dinner came late, he woke hungry at six; if it came early, he woke hungry at five. Yesterday had been an early dinner, so hunger gnawed at him the moment he opened his eyes.

Sneaking into the kitchen like a thief, he lifted his gaze to the shelves. Jars of seasoning and neat rows of cereal boxes sat in perfect order.

One box caught his eye. Clusters of dried fruit and multigrain flakes were pictured on the front, drenched in milk, glossy with honey and maple syrup.

‘Pet food!’

The little clusters looked just like the pellets he used to eat in the basement. His mouth watered. It looked expensive—he’d never seen a box like this in Gyuyeon’s house.

Stretching on tiptoe, he tugged the box down, tore it open, and pulled out the shiny silver bag inside. Tearing that open too, he poured a generous heap into a shallow plate.

The sweet, nutty scent made his stomach twist eagerly.

“Still… I’m a person now, so I should eat like a person.”

Naru set the plate on the table, sat down neatly, and held the spoon like he’d seen on TV. The posture was elegant, almost noble.

Clatter, crunch, crunch.

Reality broke the illusion. Instead of using the spoon, Naru buried his face directly into the plate and crunched loudly, just like a puppy. Pet food always tasted better straight from the dish.

As the plate emptied, he lifted his head, lips shiny with crumbs. Not nearly enough.

‘One more plate. Still hungry.’

He hurried back, poured more, and again bent his face into the dish, delighted at the tart pops of cranberry and the chewy blueberries. He had never eaten such good ‘pet food’ in his life.

Normally, he stayed quiet at dawn. But this time, his appetite drowned out caution.

“Ha, fuck… what are you doing at this hour?”

Gyuyeon’s voice cut through the kitchen, rough with sleep and irritation. Woken by the clattering plates and relentless chomping, he cursed under his breath.

At first, he tried to bury his ears under a pillow, but the sound grated too much. In the end, he stomped out of bed, raking a hand through his messy hair.

Seeing the blanket tossed on the sofa and no Naru there, he sighed heavily.

“Does he ever sleep? Driving me insane at the crack of dawn.”

Slipping on slippers, he trudged into the kitchen—then froze.

Absurd didn’t even begin to cover it. Grotesque, maybe.

Naru sat at the table with his head ‘inside’ the plate, crunching cereal dry, no milk, no water.

‘Is he a caveman? A dog? Fuck. He really does everything.’

Closing his eyes, Gyuyeon swallowed his temper.

‘Calm down. Calm down. It’s Song Naru. He’s missing something. Yu Gyuyeon, just hold it in once.’

Forcing composure, he strode over and yanked the plate away. Naru, so absorbed he hadn’t noticed him, thunked his forehead on the table.

“Ouch…”

“What the hell are you doing this early? Huh? You’re not a dog, so why the hell do you keep eating like one?”

“…”

Disgust warred with anger in his voice. Naru blinked back, expression blank, as if silently asking ‘what did I do wrong?’

That brazen look broke Gyuyeon’s will to scold.

“Enough. That’s it. Sit down and don’t move.”

“My food…”

“Fine. I’ll make you a proper meal. Just sit your ass down. Damn, how much cereal did you pour?”

Glancing at the half-empty bag, he let out a hollow laugh. That much would have lasted weeks if eaten properly.

Frailty on the outside, bottomless pit inside.

Avoiding his gaze, Naru looked off to the side like he always did when about to be scolded. Infuriating.

Still muttering under his breath, Gyuyeon pulled ingredients from the fridge. He reheated fresh bread from his café, scrambled eggs with shrimp for a salad, and poured bright tomato juice into two cups.

Halfway through plating, he grimaced.

“Why am I even cooking meals for someone I dragged here? Seriously…”

But when he set the plates down, Naru immediately gulped the tomato juice.

Gulp, gulp.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, satisfied, while Gyuyeon shook his head and cut into his food with practiced elegance.

Across from him, Naru sawed clumsily at the bread, crumbling it into mush. His plate looked ravaged, but his cheeks were full, eyes shining with contentment.

And that was exactly why Gyuyeon kept cooking for him. He finished everything, every time, and smiled after.

“Is it good?”

“Yes! It’s delicious!”

It was the first time someone ate his food so happily. Pride curled reluctantly in his chest.

But—

“Why are you so clumsy? Who cuts bread like that? Watch me.”

He demonstrated, sliding the knife cleanly through. Naru copied, but frowned.

“No, not like a saw—smoothly.”

“What’s a saw?”

“…fuck.”

Patience snapped. Even his curses came without thinking now, sharpened by Naru’s endless questions.

“How long are you going to stay such an airhead?”

“…”

Ah. Maybe that stung.

“What’s an airhead?”

“Shut your mouth.”

The fact he didn’t even know the insult made Gyuyeon want to laugh and cry all at once.

He gave up on teaching and ate in silence.

Meanwhile, Naru stuffed his face in imitation, his feet kicking happily beneath the table.

After licking his plate clean, he washed his dishes by hand—he’d been scolded once for messing with the dishwasher. Then, he came back and sat, staring openly at Gyuyeon as he ate.

Trying to ignore the gaze, Gyuyeon finished, then noticed crumbs all around Naru’s mouth.

With a sigh, he grabbed a wet wipe.

“Come here.”

Naru immediately leaned forward, face tilted up like a puppy.

“If you eat, wipe your mouth—it’s dirty.”

“Gulp!”

“Done. Now move.”

“Won’t you wipe more?”

“I said I’m done. I’m busy. Move.”

Brushing him aside, Gyuyeon strode into the kitchen. It was nearly time to head out.

He washed, dressed, styled, and gathered his things. His café awaited: payroll, inspections, business as usual.

As he slipped on his shoes, Naru hovered behind him, restless.

“I’ll be back soon, so stay put. Please. Just stay put, got it?”

“Can’t I come with you…?”

“No. Why would you? Stay here. Quiet.”

“Okaay…”

Like a kicked puppy, Naru sagged in the entryway, barefoot and forlorn. But Gyuyeon only grabbed his keys. He wasn’t about to comfort him.

Clunk! Beep, beep-beep, biiip.

The door jammed with a muffled alarm. Gyuyeon looked down.

Naru had wrapped his arms around his leg, sitting on the shoe rack barefoot, eyes round and stubborn.

“Hey. Let go.”

“I’m not letting go.”

That damned selective casual speech again.

Tilting his head up, eyebrows lifted, his eyes sparkled with ridiculous determination.