Kyungsoo smiled gently, maintaining his composure even as she pulled out a cigarette to start smoking. Perhaps he should have responded immediately, informed her that although the cafe didn’t have a ban on smoking indoors, that it was not encouraged. Seeing as to how shaky and nervous she was a little earlier, though, he lets this pass just once and makes a note to remind her again (that is, if she ever wants to visit again).
“The toast is coming!” He spins around, giving the few customers in the cafe an apologetic smile, unsure if they would feel uncomfortable from the smell of the smoke in the air. Walking over to the counter, he pops two slices of bread in the toaster and prepares some grape jam and butter, setting a portion of them on a plate.
Soon when the toast is done, he brings the plate of toast to her, setting it down on the table. “There you go. We make the bread ourselves, so I hope it’s to your liking.” He takes a seat opposite her, resting his head on his hands as he gazes at her expectantly, hoping to hear only good remarks about the toast. “So… how is it?”
Her gaze falls upon him as he cheerfully slides the plate in front of her. Shifting slightly, she tucks her leg under her in a half criss-cross style, resting her wrist delicately on her knee as to not catch any of the ashes on her bare skin. A small rumble vibrated in her stomach and almost embarrassingly, she quickly looked down at her abdomen in surprise as her wrist curled up, feeling her limbs grow rigid. It had been a while since she ate but Ilsoon knew better than to immediately dive into the dish. She wasn’t raised in a barn, after all.
Silently, she leans forward to stamp out the half-used cigarette into the porceilin plate, making a mental note to clean it up later. Almost like a robot, she grabs a knife from the side and divides the toast into four quadrants, her lines crisp and precise. After coating the pieces in what she liked, she picked up one of them and took a small bite, chewing it fully before swallowing.
“Mm,” she began, taking care to wipe off the crumbs on her face. “It’s good, mister.” Nodding, Ilsoon really wanted to show at least the smallest bit of gratitude towards the male but the words were lost on her. So, simply. she gave him a tiny smirk. Finishing up the last pieces in a slow, monotonous fashion, Ilsoon found her fingers tracing the edge of her coffee cup, it’s contents now bland and cold. “It was really good.” She says again, hoping that the lull between her previous comments didn’t confuse the other too much. “You’re a good... cook? Toaster?” She snorts gently, looking up at him. “Toaster of toast. You’re good at that.”
