Ji-hoon practically bounced into the kitchen, grin stretched wide, excitement spilling out of him like steam from a hot pan.
Ji-seok stood at the stove, stirring a massive pot with practiced ease, while Enwoo darted around, slapping order slips onto the counter and moving without a second wasted.
"Hyung," Ji-hoon called out, already tying his apron.
"I'm busy," Ji-seok replied without looking up. "Too many orders."
Ji-hoon only smiled wider. "Don't worry. I'm helping today." He slipped on his gloves, enthusiasm glowing brighter than the stove flames.
Ji-seok finally spared him a glance. "Then who's at the counter?"
Ji-hoon's lips curved into a smug, childish grin. "My cutie."
Ji-seok paused. Slowly, he looked through the glass door toward the front. Hae-in stood there, calmly handling customers, fingers moving confidently over the system.
"… Whoa," Ji-seok muttered. "What a miracle. Your girl is early today."
Ji-hoon nodded happily. "Yeah. But of all days, today had to be this busy." His smile drooped into a small pout. "I wanted to be with her… feed her Italian food properly."
Ji-seok chuckled. "Relax. Let the crowd die down. You'll get your moment."
Ji-hoon brightened again, already cracking eggs with dramatic focus."And you know what, hyung? She's the one who insisted. Said she'd handle the counter and sent me here to help."
Ji-seok shook his head, stirring the pot again, watching his brother beam as he'd just won an Olympic gold medal.
"And she's really smart," Ji-hoon said again, pride softening his voice as he flipped the sizzling meat with careful hands. "Just by watching me for half an hour, she learned everything. Payments, bills… even giving toffees to kids."
A grin tugged at his lips. "I really married a smart girl."
Ji-seok snorted. "Ya, Ji-hoona, it's billing, not rocket science. What's there to learn? Pick the order, enter the details, and print the bill. That's it. Even Enwoo learned it in minutes."
Ji-hoon shot him a playful glare, mock-offended.
Ji-seok chuckled again. "Focus on your work."
Ji-hoon straightened slightly, putting on an exaggerated serious face. "You're underestimating your boss's wife. You should respect her capabilities."
Ji-seok burst out laughing. "Ohhh, sorry, boss. I forgot you were my boss a long time ago." He teased, hands moving faster over the stove.
Ji-hoon cracked, laughter spilling out of him as he lightly slapped Ji-seok's arm. The kitchen echoed with their shared laughter, warm and easy despite the rush.
"But still," Ji-hoon added, unable to stop himself, smile returning softly, "my cutie is very smart."
"Yeah, yeah," Ji-seok replied. "Heard that about ten times today."
And once again, the kitchen filled with laughter, mingling with the sizzle of food and the quiet happiness Ji-hoon carried in his chest.
********
By 8 p.m., the chaos finally began to thin. Orders slowed. The noise softened.
"Ahh… today was brutal," Ji-hoon sighed, finally dropping into the chair near the kitchen, rolling his shoulders. "How do you even manage this much workload every day, hyung?"
Ji-seok smirked without looking up. "What can I say? My boss refuses to hire another cook."
Ji-hoon chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, hyung. I really am. I'm trying… but I'm not able to find anyone who can bring out the same taste you do."
Ji-seok waved him off. "Enough guilt. I'll handle the remaining orders now. You go. Cook for your cutie."
Ji-hoon smiled again. Then he peeked through the glass door.
Hae-in sat on his chair, focused, then reached into the jar and handed two toffees to a child with a small smile.
Something tugged deep in his chest.
"Aish…" he muttered softly, eyes glued to her. "Every time I see her smile, I fall harder."
Ji-seok glanced at him, eyebrow lifting. Then, casually, almost too casually, he asked, "It's been more than a month since you got married, right?"
Ji-hoon hummed, still staring at her.
"So," Ji-seok continued, stirring the pot, voice deliberately neutral, "what's the progress? Anything moved forward?" He paused, then added with a grin, "Anything… intimate?"
Ji-hoon looked at him, then lowered his gaze.
"Not really…" he admitted quietly. "She's always busy with office work. Late nights. Endless deadlines. I barely get to talk to her properly."
Ji-seok paused, finally turning to face him. "Barely talking? What do you mean by that?"
Ji-hoon let out a small, helpless breath. "Every day I go to pick her up from the office. We eat something here. By the time we reach home, she's already asleep in the car." His lips curved into a faint, sad smile. "I don't even get the chance to start anything."
Ji-seok stared at him for a moment, then sighed deeply.
"Ji-hoonaa…" he said slowly, rubbing his forehead. "Don't you think you're wasting time?"
Ji-hoon looked up.
"You're being way too slow," Ji-seok continued. "You're letting her drown in work, letting days slip by, while you stand there waiting for the 'right moment.' At this rate, when exactly do you plan to win her heart?"
Ji-hoon frowned, confusion clouding his face.
Ji-seok's tone softened, but his words stayed firm. "Ji-hoonaa… you're married to her. You have every right to love her. To claim her as yours. You're her husband. Then why are you hesitating?"
"But hyung—"
"I know," Ji-seok cut him off gently. "I know she didn't want this marriage. But then tell me something." He looked straight into Ji-hoon's eyes. "Why did you marry her?"
Ji-hoon didn't answer. He didn't need to.
"Because you love her," Ji-seok said for him. "And if that's the truth, then what are you doing now? Instead of showing her how deeply you feel, you're holding back. Wasting your time waiting for her."
Then he leaned closer, voice dropping. "You're a man, Ji-hoona. Make moves."
Ji-hoon listened, silent, absorbing every word.
"Tell her how you feel. Again and again. Show it through actions. Through consistency." Ji-seok gestured with his hand. "Initiate small touches. A gentle hold. Quiet care. Women don't fall for loud words. They fall for safety."
Ji-hoon swallowed.
"At first, she might pull away," Ji-seok continued. "That's normal. She's guarded. But if you stay steady, if you don't retreat, she'll start trusting you."
He straightened, voice resolute. "Make her feel protected. Make her feel chosen. Make her feel that you're her home."
Ji-hoon's chest felt heavy, something stirring inside him.
"Women fall when men take the lead," Ji-seok finished. "Show your quiet dominance. Make her believe that she belongs to you. That she's tied to you."
Ji-hoon stood there, listening, every word sinking deep, settling somewhere near his heart, where resolve slowly began to bloom.
"You should've started by now," Ji-seok said again, voice firm but not unkind. "You've already lost more than a month. If you don't make moves, how exactly do you expect her to let you into her space?"
Ji-hoon blinked at him, shoulders slumping a little. "I'm trying, hyung… I really am. But her job eats up her time. By the time she's free, she's exhausted." He hesitated, then added softly, "I confessed to her. Twice. She didn't say anything back."
Ji-seok let out a long sigh, "Why is she still stuck in that shitty job?" he snapped, frustration leaking through. "Tell her to quit. Can't you take care of her bills?"
"I can," Ji-hoon replied immediately, almost offended by the question. Then his voice dipped. "But… how can I tell her to leave her job? That's her life, hyung. Her identity."
Ji-seok stared at him for a second, then shook his head slowly. "Oh God… Ji-hoon. You really have a lot to learn about handling a woman."
Ji-hoon looked at him again, lips pushed into a small pout, eyes troubled and unsure, like a boy standing at the edge of something he didn't know how to cross.
"First," Ji-seok said, counting on his fingers, "get her out of that place. That job is draining her dry. And if she doesn't listen to you—" he shrugged casually, "—tell your parents to step in. I doubt she'll be able to say no to her in-laws."
Ji-hoon went quiet.
"Ji-hoonaa," Ji-seok said again, quieter now but heavier, "don't hold back anymore. Don't keep waiting. Men don't wait for too long." He paused, then added words that sank like seeds into soft soil. "A husband has to take charge. If you don't, you might lose her forever."
Ji-hoon didn't answer.
He stood there, fingers curled loosely at his side, eyes fixed on nothing in particular. The kitchen hummed around him. Yet inside him, everything went still. Ji-seok's words echoed, mixing with his own doubts, his fears, his love. Control. Protection. Patience. Where did one end and the other begin?
Silence stretched between them until Ji-seok spoke again, this time gentler, almost brotherly.
"Enough thinking," he said. "Start acting already. She's here early tonight. That itself is a chance. Feed her well. Talk to her. Make her laugh. Let her breathe around you. Win her trust first."
Ji-hoon lifted his gaze. Something shifted inside him.
"You're right, hyung," Ji-hoon said, a small but genuine smile blooming on his lips. "I need to try harder. I want her to feel chosen… not trapped."
Ji-seok smiled, satisfied. "Good. That's what I was waiting to hear. Now go. Show her what you're good at. Your food never fails you. I promise, she'll be impressed."
The weight in his chest loosened, replaced by a quiet determination. Effort. Warmth. Presence. If love were a language, then tonight he would speak it the way he knew best.