Glow Down
Chaeyoung x Male Reader
Genre: Fluff, Romcom | Length: 5.7k
Summary: Your girlfriend is insanely pretty and... that's the problem.
Got the idea from a conversation with @ducktoo, @kwilquib, and @azelfty. Also got some help from @leafostuff. Thank you, guys.
Shoutout to s1mpleducke and my fans who wanted more fromis.
This story is not really edited because otherwise I would have never published it, so sorry for the quality.
Your girlfriend Chaeyoung was stunning. Dating her was a daily lesson in humility. Whenever you went out in public, you could feel the collective “How?” radiating from every person you met. Everyone would look at her like she was royalty and you would look like you were the one who kidnapped her.
You didn’t blame them. She looked like a runway model even while she slept. The messier she was, the more angelic she felt, and she only needed a little effort to look stunning.
But for Chaeyoung, her face was also an insecurity. She was convinced that her incapability of looking cute (which wasn’t true) meant that your parents would never take her seriously.
“They’ll think I’m a rascal,” she’d say, pacing around the apartment. “They will never accept me as your girlfriend. They’ll think I’m just some heartbreaker.”
The anxiety reached an all-time peak in the week leading up to the day she’d meet her parents. By saturday she was an unstable bomb waiting to explode. It was exhausting just watching her. Every time your phone buzzed, she’d rush out convinced it was your mother calling to cancel the day or worse, to interview her over the phone. You tried to soothe her but eventually the sound of her frantic rambling became white noise that lulled you into an accidental nap on her couch.
You had finally awakened from your nap a couple of hours later, thinking she had finally stopped. Stretching your stiff limbs to get rid of the pains of the couch, you got up and looked for some water. You dragged your feet to the kitchen and poured yourself a glass. As you drank, you could hear some rustling from the other side of the hallway.
It sounded like clothes being thrown and beaten. You took a sip and started walking towards it. There was nobody else in the house but your girlfriend so surely it must have been her.
You stopped dead in front of the room and were left with your eyes wide open. There was a giant mountain of clothes on the ground—shirts, pants, dresses flung everywhere, dangling from the shelves and sliding off the edge of the bed. In fact, it was so full that there wasn’t any more space left on the floor, and some stray garments had found their way onto her head.
“Chaeyoung, what are you doing?” you asked, scanning the room to find stuff everywhere.
Your girlfriend blew a stray lock of hair out of her face and sighed. She slouched against the rolling chair, forgetting it was indeed a rolling chair that… rolls, so it just slid off, and she fell down on her back.
“Argh!” she exclaimed and kicked her legs at the pile of clothes out of pure frustration. “I don’t know what to wear!”
“You’re stressed about tomorrow?”
“Of course! Why would I not be?” she shot back.
“Don’t worry, Chae, just wear whatever,” you said, taking another casual sip of your water.
“Oh, it’s so easy to say for you!” she yelled and got back up. “I’ll see how you’ll act when it’s your time to meet my parents.”
“I will just wear a nice shirt,” you commented dryly, which seemed to upset her even more.
She crossed her arms up, her beautiful eyes narrowing at you. “Okay, I’ll try some stuff, and you tell me how it is. Be honest, alright?”
“Alright,” you agreed.
“Go out, let me change,” she said after getting up and pushing you out.
“It’s not like I can see you under that pile of clothes anyway—” you tried to reason before she closed the door.
You went back to the kitchen to put the glass away and came back to stand in front of the door, pacing around and staring at the wall, listening to the muffled sounds of zippers, frustrated groans and the occasional hanger flying into the wall.
As soon as you caught a glimpse of your girlfriend, air completely fled from your lungs. A floor-length, long-sleeved floral dress draped over her frame. The thin fabric had a pure white glow while the red roses painted it with vivid spots of love.
With her sharp, striking features, the simple dress didn’t look plain at all.
“Uhm,” you started, desperately trying to collect your thoughts. “What are you going for here?”
“Sweet girl next door? I look like I make my own butter, it’s perfect,” Chaeyoung said, brushing some strands of her hair behind her ears, an action that revealed itself to be more lethal than she thought.
“The next door must be heaven, because you look like an angel.”
She shot you a mean, angry glare, smoothing her dress on her stomach. “It’s no time for jokes!”
She looked down at the white fabric. “Look at it. It’s basically a tent. It has no shape whatsoever.”
“Well, no, you don’t really look like a ‘sweet girl’, to be honest…”
“Wh-why not?” Chaeyoung said worriedly. To prove her point, she did a stiff, awkward twirl, turning her back to you. “It’s just a cylinder.”
As she turned, the supposedly shapeless fabric caught on the curve of her hips. The thin, silky material draped right over the butt, clinging just enough to perfectly accentuate the exact shape of it. She looked like the breathtaking, painfully pretty heroine of a historical drama—specifically designed to ruin men’s lives.
All the teasing died in your throat. You just stood there in the hallway, opening and closing your mouth like a dumb fish out of water.
“It looks conservative,” she continued, looking over her shoulder at you. “Your mom will definitely think I’m—”
Chaeyoung stopped and saw your still expression aimed at her lower half. Her eyes narrowed. She turned around and saw her reflection in the full-length mirror behind her.
“Oh, you must be kidding me,” she groaned. She reached back and desperately tried to puff out the fabric, but as soon as she let go, they settled right back onto her curves. “Why is it doing that?”
“I… uh…” you mumbled.
“Don’t even say it,” she said, raising her index at you.
“It’s not going to work. You’re still way too pretty.”
“Ugh! Okay, let’s do another one.”
She stomped back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her, leaving you alone in the hallway to recover.
A few minutes later, she stepped out, and your brain entirely short-circuited. You could pretty much hear the cables in your brain frying, sizzling, popping, while smoke poured out of your ears.
She was in a suit. It was a whole look. She was wearing her black stockings that drew attention to the length of her legs, partially covered by a sharp pencil skirt, and ended with a crisp white button-down shirt and a loosely tied necktie.
At this point, you were drooling.
“So?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips and tilting her head.
“I would so fuck the shit out of you.”
“Oh my god!” She threw her hands in the air, causing the tight shirt to pull against her chest. “You can’t stay serious.”
You were truly, in all honesty and with maximum effort, trying to stay serious. This was your way of remaining grounded and sane. Actually, you were lucky she didn’t put on any makeup because that would have been the end of you. Her face was totally bare, her hair messy from the outfit changes, if she had paired the suit with red lips? Yeah would be on the floor.
“Chae, there’s no way you actually tried with this one. Are you doing it on purpose? Is this a test?”
“What’s so bad?” she whined, stomping her foot, in a strangely cute manner, which only confused your brain more. “I’m trying to look like a banker. So your mom can take me seriously. Do I look serious?”
“You look… you do look serious.” You swallowed hard, your eyes darting down to her stockings and then right back up to her face. “Uhm. Like one of those serious, confident, sexy secretaries who blackmail the CEO.”
“Fuck you. I’m throwing this out.” She grabbed the collar of her shirt, ready to rip it off.
“No, no, no, no, please!” you pleaded, lunging forward with zero dignity and grabbing her hands. “It looks too good! I didn’t even know you had any of this! Please, you have to wear it again for me later! I am literally begging you.”
“Fine! Fine! Get off me, you weirdo!” she huffed. Despite her tone and eye roll, a blush crept up her cheek. She liked the compliment, even if it completely ruined her plan. She placed her hands flat against your chest and shoved you back out into the hallway.
“Sorry,” you stated, going back to your stupid, stiff stance like a dog waiting at the door.
“I can go for something more casual.”
“Sure.”
When the door opened for the third time, she emerged wearing a mustard-yellow cardigan and a matching shell top, buttoned up to her very collarbone. It was paired with a longer skirt, and to tie the whole thing together, she had put on a pair of thick-rimmed reading glasses.
You were already a sucker for girls in glasses, but seeing them on your girlfriend's perfect nose was a lethal combination.
She pushed the frames up her nose. “This way she can think I’m smart, right? I look like a librarian.”
“We’re not getting any reading done with you dressed like that.”
“Gosh, not even this?!” She groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “It’s cute! It’s completely covered up!”
“No, Chae. It’s incredibly hot.”
“I even buttoned it all the way up.”
“You can hide your chest, but you can’t hide those curves,” you say, gesturing to her waist.
“Fuck, I really need to dumb this down.”
She retreated for the fourth time. When she returned, she was wearing a pastel pink polo shirt tucked stiffly into a pair of pleated khaki pants.
“Come on now,” she pleaded, gesturing to herself. “This is the standard suburban mom outfit. Your mom will take one look at me and think I’m the perfect, boring wife.”
“Mom, yeah. Milf, definitely.”
“What!”
“You did not dumb it down. Y-you look like a model from Vogue, where did you even get this?”
“I got it from the thrift shop!” she cried, looking genuinely distressed.
“It must be you then,” you sighed. “You make everything look good.”
“I give up!”
She disappeared into the bedroom one last time. For her final trick, she didn’t even bother with her own clothes. Instead, she chose one of your sweaters that she stole a long time ago. It was an old chunky knit sweater and a perfectly standard pair of blue jeans.
She didn’t try to style it but the sweater naturally draped in a way that was effortlessly chic, showing a hint of her collarbone. The jeans hugged her hips perfectly. She was comfortably, naturally gorgeous.
Defeated, Chaeyoung gave you a slow, lifeless spin and then slumped sideways against the doorframe, letting her head thunk against the wood.
“This is it. I surrender,” she sighed, her voice small. “This is the most boring clothing in the apartment, and it’s still not enough. Your mom is going to take one look at me and think I’m a rascal who’s going to ruin her son’s life.”
You softened and smiled. You stepped closer, gently reaching out to brush the stressed hair out of her face.
“You look beautiful, Chaeyoung.”
She looked up at you through her eyelashes, her sultry eyes genuinely vulnerable. “But do I look respectable?”
“You look adorable,” you murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Don’t worry so much. Actually, my mom is really into fashion; she’s probably going to love your normal clothes. And besides... You know my dad actively chooses to wear socks with his sandals, right?”
Chaeyoung giggled.
-
You didn’t really get much sleep last night. She kept nervously pacing around your room and asking you endless questions about what your parents liked, what they hated, and what shoes she should wear.
Eventually, she did run out of energy and went to sleep, cuddled deeply by your side. She looked relaxed and didn’t seem to have any worries left.
You were dead wrong.
It was 5 AM when a sharp noise jolted you awake. You blinked and looked around in the darkness, disoriented. It wasn’t just the noise; you were sure you could smell something burnt in the air. It smelled somewhat like sugar? But there was something off about it.
You moved your arm to check on her, only to find the sheets cold and her side of the bed completely empty. Mind you, it was a sunday so there was no logical reason for your girlfriend to be up. You cursed under your breath and got up to check what was going on.
You followed the faint glow coming out of the kitchen, with the strong scent. When you turned the corner, you stopped dead in your tracks. You couldn’t believe your eyes. There was flour all smeared across the counters and tables, and even the floor. Tons of used bowls were towering precariously in the sink. They weren’t even scraped clean, some of them had big globs of heavy drooping batter dripping from their sides.
And standing in the center of the kitchen, was Chaeyoung.
She was still in her cute pyjama with the bears but was wearing a pink apron. Her hair was lazily tied up in a messy bun, with strands falling into her face, and a streak of flour smeared across her cheekbone. Of course, there was stuff all over her apron as well with mysterious stains and wet spots.
She didn’t notice you. She was standing there, hands on her hips, staring directly into the oven door.
“Chae?” you asked, groaning, “What are you doing?”
She lightly jumped and squeaked when she heard your voice. She didn’t really expect you to be awake. Her eyes saw you, then darted at her mess and back to you. She straightened her back, trying to look a little more dignified.
“I’m making cookies,” she announced, letting her voice pitch up from the nervous laughter. “Your mom said she loves sweets. And it’s well known that great women can cook. So your mom will think I’m the perfect wife material for her son when she sees what I baked from scratch.”
“You really don’t have to—”
The oven timer interrupted you. Chaeyoung gasped and in a panic, scrambled to get a pair of oven mitts. She yanked the oven door open, releasing a dense cloud of gray smoke. Coughing, she reached into the fog and pulled out the baking sheet.
She slammed the hot metal tray on the stovetop, waving the smoke away with her hand and stepped aside to look at her masterpiece.
It was a total disaster.
Instead of individual cookies, they were half-melted into each other, forming one big mega-cookie. The edges were completely charred while the center was inexplicably pale and shiny. You weren’t sure how that would be possible. There was no physical explanation for what you were saying.
Chaeyoung stared at the pan. Slowly, her shoulders slumped. She buried her face in her hands.
“Look at them,” she whispered. “They’re terrible, just like me.”
“Hey, come on,” you said softly, carefully stepping over a puddle of milk. “They aren’t that bad,” you said and patted her back, kissing the top of her head.
“Your parents will hate me,” she mumbled into her hands. “I can’t even make cookies. I’m a disaster.”
“They are not going to hate you,” you said casually. To prove your point, you reached out and broke off a piece of the cookie slop.
“Don’t eat that,” she warned you, grabbing your wrist. “You’ll die.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” you said with a brave smile, tossing it into your mouth.
Your teeth crunched through bitter charcoal, followed immediately by the squishy, gooey texture of raw flour and wet egg. You forced a smile, chewing rapidly to make it end, and swallowed hard. You could feel it dragging its way down your throat.
“Mmmh,” you managed to hum, nodding aggressively. “Wow. Incredible. Delicious.”
Chaeyoung looked at you with a deeply unimpressed, cute grumpy face. “You’re lying. You look like you’re in pain.”
“I am,” you admitted, reaching for a glass of water to wash it away. You took a big gulp and finally exhaled when the foreign object was gone.
You looked back to her and wiped some flour off her face. “But I love that you tried. I know you care a lot.”
“You know what?” you said, squeezing her hand. “Let’s clean this… mess, and we’ll buy something at the bakery. We can just put it in our dish and say you made it.”
Chaeyoung looked up at you, letting a small smile break through her disappointment.
“You’d lie to your mother for me?”
“Of course,” you laughed. “Come here,” you tell her and open your arms.
“You’ll get all dirty, I’m covered in flour.”
“Who cares,” you mumbled as you wrapped Chaeyoung in your cocoon. Your girlfriend closed your eyes and exhaled with a defeated smile. She brought her hands around your back and melted into you.
It was alright. Chaeyoung could feel it in the way you held her. She didn’t realize how much she missed it until she felt your arms around her and realized how silly it was.
When you let her go, she couldn’t look you in the eyes.
That was the adorable Chaeng you knew. Even though she looked so cold and confident, she was just a soft girl after all.
“Look at you, you’re all white.”
“Well, we’re a couple, we need matching outfits, don’t we?”
Chaeyoung giggled and shoved you. “You’re so dumb.”
You stepped back, surveying the disaster zone while the mega cookie sat on the stove. “Okay,” you said, rolling up your sleeves, “we should start cleaning.”
Chaeyoung moved toward the sink. “It won’t come off,” she hissed, leaning her weight into the spatula as she tried to pry the charred mass from the tray. A sharp clack echoed through the kitchen as the spatula broke clean. “Fuck it,” she scoffed and threw the remaining piece of the spatula into the sink.
“Come on, get the trash bag. We have to throw it at the waste disposal site. They have to burn it. You never know if it could become sentient.”
She let out a dry, exhausted chuckle and got the flour and trash into the bag. While you scraped and scrubbed, she began wiping down the counters. At one point, she stopped, staring at a particularly stubborn stain.
“I really thought I could do it,” she whispered. “I thought if I could make something nice, your mom would see it and forget that I look like… well, this.”
“A goddess?” I offered, sliding the last of the burnt evidence into the bin.
She shot me a look that was half-pout, half-glare. “A heartbreaker. A rascal. Someone who doesn't know how to take care of her son.”
“Trust me, after they see how I live, they’ll realize you’re the one doing the heavy lifting.”
You got down on your hands and knees, grabbing the floor rag to try to remove the sticky slurry near the baseboards. Looking at it, you probably needed some kind of industrial solvent to really get those out.
You were still scrubbing the floor with that dirty rug when Chaeyoung found the courage to speak up. She took a deep breath and momentarily put the bowls down. She stared at the reflections in the water, where a thousand distorted versions of her face shimmered in the bubbles.
“Everyone thinks I’m just ‘the pretty girl,” she started. “It was all fun when I was in high school, although boys were too afraid to ask me out. But when I grew up, girls would say all kinds of things.”
“They were jealous?” you said.
“I think so, or they had the wrong idea. It’s not like I was doing anything for attention.”
You put the rag down and sat back, looking back at Chaeyoung. The cheap lighting of the kitchen showed all the rough parts of her. She was tired and dishevelled, but there was a tenderness that you had never felt. An angel was shedding her wings in front of you, molting her white feathers to reveal the skin and bone beneath.
“It must be so nice to have a job where you just have to look nice for cameras all day. That’s what they would say,” Chae sighed. “I had to work really hard to prove I was capable.”
“But you are,” you said. “You’re smart. You’re capable. You’re… incredible, and you know it. People are just judgmental.”
“Even then. It’s like I’m just a trophy. You know my ex?”
You raised an eyebrow. “That guy? What did he do?”
“Well, I kinda told you about it, but I don’t think he really liked me. He would never listen to me. I think he just wanted to boast to his friends about me.”
“Yeah, he was an asshole.”
“I was careful about boys afterwards,” Chaeyoung said and sat down under the sink. She hugged her knees and stared at the floor. “About people, in general.”
You scooted closer to her, sitting with her against the kitchen counters.
“The people that mattered didn’t take me seriously, while random people would always harass me,” she confessed. “It’s like I’m just a face.”
Your right hand slipped on top of hers, and you held it there, so she wouldn’t fly away into her thoughts. Chaeyoung instinctively leaned into your shoulder.
“I always knew you were a great person, Chaeyoung. Since the first time I met you,” you said. “Maybe it was because people projected their own personalities onto you, you did all you could to let people know who you were. You were so caring, so bright, so genuine.”
Chae turned her head to look at you as you talked with shiny eyes.
“More than anyone else, you were just you. You laughed like it was the first time you ever did. You were honest, but always so kind and gentle with everyone.”
You took Chae’s face in your hands and looked straight into her eyes. “You are beautiful. You know it; you were blessed with beauty. But it’s not just on your skin, but rather in your soul. Every day, I can’t think about anyone but you. There’s nothing like the first time I hear your voice, and the day just becomes better. Looking at your beauty is an experience, but living with you gives me purpose.”
Chae started tearing up and sniffling.
“Aww, no, crybaby,” you said and snorted.
She let out a jagged breath, a sob catching in her throat. “Why do you have to say shit like that now?” she hiccuped, her laugh breaking through the tears. “You’re always so dumb.”
“Want me to go back?”
“Shut up or you’ll ruin it,” Chaeyoung hiccuped. “I fucking love you.”
Chae leaned in to kiss you, and you accepted her salty lips. It was the most delicate kiss you ever gave her. She was so fragile right now that you were scared you would hurt her.
Your girlfriend finally laughed.
“Alright, I feel better now, it will be okay,” Chaeyoung said.
“That’s the spirit, princess,” you said and brought your hand up to pat her head. She closed her eyes and giggled, enjoying your touch.
-
“Let’s get that cake,” Chaeyoung said, pointing at the glass. She was pointing at the lemon chiffon masterpiece topped with gold leaf and spun sugar. There were all sorts of nice drawings made with buttercream, yeah, no way.
“Respectfully, that cake looks a bit too nice, no offense.”
“Offense taken, that’s wildly disrespectful, what are you implying?” she said sternly.
“We don’t want to give her expectations that high, do we?”
She looked back at the golden cake, then at the rustic strawberry tart in the corner. She let out a long, defeated sigh. “You’re right…”
-
You were finally in front of your parents’ house.
You turned the engine off and were going to leave the car, but Chaeyoung didn’t seem to move. She was in her passenger side with the sun visor flipped down, staring intensely into the small mirror. She flashed a wide, overly enthusiastic, toothy grin. She held it for two seconds before her face fell flat.
“Looks weird,” she muttered to herself. “How does Hayoung do this?”
She took a deep breath, adjusting her sweater, and tried again. This time, she kept her mouth closed, giving the mirror a softer expression.
“Too formal,” she whispered, sighing heavily.
You leaned across your seat. “Chae, what exactly are you doing?”
“I’m practicing my smile,” she said without breaking eye contact with the mirror. “First impressions are everything, you know? I have to greet them properly.”
“You’re overthinking it,” you chuckled, reaching over to flip the visor back up. She pouted at you. “You don’t need it. You have a great smile. Just be the girl I fell in love with, they’ll love you too.”
“Heh,” she complained, finally clicking her seatbelt open. She glanced down at the bakery box sitting on her lap. “Do you think she’ll know these are from the bakery?”
“Nah, she won’t know. They’re in a plate.” You reached over and gave her a reassuring pat on her shoulder. “It will be fine, I promise.”
“Okay, fine,” she nodded.
You both got out of the car and walked up to the house door. You knocked, and the door quickly swung open. Your mother stood in the doorway, a floral apron tied around her waist and a wooden spoon still clutched in one hand.
She froze.
Her eyes immediately locked onto Chaeyoung. She took in your girlfriend’s perfectly styled hair, her elegant but understated outfit, and the warm, genuinely sweet smile that Chaeyoung managed to produce.
Then, very slowly, your mother's gaze drifted over to you. She looked you up and down, her expression shifting from absolute awe to profound, undisguised confusion.
"Mom?" you prompted, shifting a little awkwardly under her scrutiny. "This is Chaeyoung."
Your mother finally blinked, snapping out of her trance.
"You’re gorgeous, dear," your mother said to Chaeyoung. “Why on earth would you choose this monkey of my son?”
“Come on, Mom, why would you say that?” you said. “Don’t you love your son?”
“I do love you, son, but compared to her…” she said, turning her head to Chaeyoung and offering her hand.
“I’m pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
“Oh, please call me Mom, you’re part of the family now,” your mom smiled brightly. “Is he treating you right? Do I need to talk to him?”
“No, Mom, he’s treating me really well, don’t worry.”
“See?” you said proudly, “I’m a good boyfriend.”
“I know she’s just being,” she said and stepped to the side, inviting both of you to come inside.
‘So far so good’, Chaeyoung thought as she stepped into the living room. You quickly went to the kitchen to put the food down while your girlfriend explored the space. To you, it all seemed familiar, but it was all new to her.
Unfortunately for you, the living room was riddled with photos of when you were younger, and your mom was really eager to talk about them.
“How old was he in this photo?”
“I think he was… 5?” your mom guessed, taking the picture frame from the wall. She handed it to your girlfriend, and the two scanned the embarrassing photo. You were riding around a toy car, and you probably were missing some teeth.
“He used to be really cute when he was little,” your mom said. “Oh, how fast they grow up. Now he’s just a brute.”
“Right!” Chaeyoung exclaimed. “How was he when he was little? Was he extroverted?”
“He kinda was. He used to do everything I told him and made friends pretty easily.”
“What about this one?” Chaeyoung said, pointing at the photo on the chimney frame.
“Oh, this one.” Your mom took that frame as well and handed it to your girlfriend. You weren’t alone in this picture. There seemed to be a girl right next to you. Judging by how you looked, it must have been around the time you started elementary school. Both of you had missing teeth and had very colorful clothes.
“They’re holding hands,” Chaeyoung mentioned, brushing her index finger on the glass.
“Oh, yeah, that was his first girlfriend. One day, he came home with that girl and said she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen.”
“That must have been fun.”
“No, I was so worried! I had to call her parents and explain why she didn’t come home,” your mom said. “And all of that for him to forget her a couple of days later.”
Chaeyoung and your mom continued to laugh and chat while watching your photos. It wasn’t much later that she decided to pull out the big folder with the child photos of when you were playing with Legos or learning to walk. To hell with not trusting Chae, your mom was telling her all your secrets and dark stories. She didn’t care a single bit.
“Oh, look at this one, Chaeyoung,” your mom cooed, pointing to a Polaroid of you aged four, wearing nothing but a diaper and a colander on your head like a helmet, pointing a wooden spoon at a dog. “He thought he was a knight and refused to take his helmet off for a week.”
Chaeyoung let out a sound that was half-giggle, half-gasp, her eyes darting from the photo to you and back. “That’s so cute.”
“Mom! When will we eat?” you shouted from the kitchen.
“Oh, right!” your mom exclaimed and hurried to put the albums away into the closet. Your girlfriend helped her and then went into the kitchen as well.
Your dad was still under the sink with tools in his hands. He partially slid out to take a look at your girlfriend.
“Oh, Chaeyoung, right?” he asked.
“Ah, yes, sir—dad.”
“Attaboy that’s my son!” he exclaimed, lightly kicking your foot. “Chaeyoung, pass me the flashlight.”
“R-right away!” she stumbled and looked around for the tool.
“It’s on the table.”
“Okay, here.”
“Can you turn it on and hold it there?”
“Of course,” she said and crouched down to help your dad. She turned it on and illuminated the area where he was working. Of course, she had no idea what he trying to see so she did her best.
“Steady on the light, Chae,” your dad grunted as he was trying to turn the joining with his greasy hands.
“Like this?” she asked softly, pointing the beat to his wrench. He kept her there for a couple of minutes as he wrestled under the sink until everything was tight and fixed. Your girlfriend felt a bit disgusted by the dirtiness that was around the area, especially the grey water. But it also meant that your dad didn’t really care about how she looked and it made her feel better.
When he was done, he slipped out on the floor and got up with a heavy grunt. “Leak’s plugged,” he announced, dusting off his knees.
“Thank you,” he muttered. “My son would have dropped the light in the water, can’t trust him with nothing.”
“I’m right here,” you shouted from the stove.
“So?” he replied and laughed.
With that done, you started to prepare the table outside for lunch. You carried the stack of plates into the dining room. The heavy oak table had already been cleared, its surface reflecting the soft light from the overhead lamp. You laid out the mismatched silverware and a stack of paper napkins while Chaeyoung followed behind, carefully placing the bakery tart in the center.
One by one, the rest of the family filed in, pulling the heavy chairs across the hardwood until everyone was settled in their usual spots.
“My son showed me some of your photos, you really know how to dress, dear,” your Mom commented while getting some food onto her plate.
“He did?!” Chaeyoung exclaimed and elbowed your side. It wasn’t a soft one; she put a hole in your body.
You coughed up some of your food.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered. “I spent hours getting dress and you already showed her everything?”
“Well, you looked good in everything, I told you.”
Chaeyoung hit you again. “If you told me, I wouldn’t have been so worried. You’re such an idiot.”
“I’m really into fashion, I think we’ll get along,” your Mom said.
“Oh, I see, you read magazines?” Chaeyoung said, putting on a bright, friendly smile like she didn’t just beat you.
“I also watch programs on TV. Oh, Dad here really doesn’t know how to dress, you have to help me.”
“I understand you.”
“Right, like father like son. They both dress terribly.”
“What?” your dad said while munching. “I put on the nicest shirt I had.”
“Yeah, what’s wrong with me?” you said.
“You see what I’ve had to deal with, Chaeyoung?” your mom sighed, gesturing with her wine glass toward the two men at the table.
“He did try,” Chaeyoung admitted. “But apparently, he likes wrinkled clothes. I had to physically take the iron out of the closet myself.”
“You ironed for him?” your mom gasped, placing a hand over her heart. “Oh, darling, don't start that. You'll spoil him.”
The two women kept going back and forth, talking about their interests and commenting on how incompetent their men were at cleaning or dressing well. You two ate quietly, every once in a while talking about sports or just staring at each other.
The day ended with a trunk full of leftovers. As you pulled the car out of the driveway, Chaeyoung leaned her head back against the headrest and let out a long sigh she had been holding the entire time.
"They liked me," she whispered, as if she still couldn't believe it.
"They loved you, Chae. I told you."
"Your mom called you a monkey," she giggled, turning her head to look at you. The streetlights flickered across her face, catching the exhaustion and the lingering glow of success. She reached across to hold your hand.
“And to think you kept me awake just to bake that cookie monster.”
"Shut up," she murmured, closing her eyes. "Just drive, monkey."
THE END
Written, 9 March - 4 April 2026
