Until Hell Freezes Over

Chapter 3

He did not see Seungcheol again for the next three weeks. He deluded himself into thinking that he visited the Hangang river so often solely to enjoy the November fog that had settled over the horizon of the bustling city and certainly not to see a dark haired man with an endearing smile.

The somber ambience that arrived with the approach of the frosty climate was unsettling and a sense of foreboding that surrounded the city and its people was impossible to brush aside.

The radio blared in the living room, a Japanese reporter saying something that Jeonghan didn't bother paying attention to.

His father's face was screwed in a frown as he listened to the news with rapt attention. Jeonghan, with his limited knowledge of the language, could only pinpoint a few phrases and words. Words like 'conflict', 'Germany', 'Hitler', 'France', 'invasion' and 'Jews' were some of the few words he was able to pick out from the number of times they were repeated in every sentence.

Tuning out the rambling, he focused on his task in hand. He yelped as the blade missed its mark and pierced the skin of his index finger. The poorly peeled potato escaped from his grasp and rolled across the floor, coming to a halt against Inhye's foot. She looked at the poor potato for a long moment and slowly lifted her head to fix her unimpressed stare at Jeonghan.

"I told you I did not require any assistance," she drawled, placing her hand on her hip and other holding a knife. Jeonghan gulped.

"I just wish to help." He mumbled, eyeing his now bleeding finger. A soft click of her tongue made him look up at her. Her gaze softened. She grabbed his uninjured hand and dragged him into his room and pushed him to sit on his mattress. She disappeared into the washroom and returned with a roll of gauze and tape, tossing them at him. Jeonghan pouted.

"Noona," he whined, mustering his best pleading eyes. Inhye raised an unamused brow, immune to his antics.

"Jeonghan," she asserted. "Cooking is not your strongest suit. I thought we were over this."

"I-"

"Moreover, I am very certain your mother dies a little whenever she spots you in the kitchen."

Jeonghan sighed, brushing his hair aside. Inhye found a ribbon from somewhere and moved towards him to gather his untamed hair and tie it securely. Jeonghan flashed her a grateful smile.

"Help me with this?" He pleaded. Inhye pinched the bridge of her nose and mumbled something inconspicuous under her breath that sounded something along the lines of 'spoiled rich kids' but Jeonghan blissfully ignored it.

She crouched down and inspected his wound. Tearing a small piece from the roll of gauze, she gently wrapped it around his finger, the material seeping the crimson immediately. She secured it by applying the tape.

Someone cleared their throat, making them both jump. The tall guard raised his brow at their reactions. Jeonghan swiveled his gaze to look at Inhye, whose neck coloured a faint shade of red. Jeonghan pursed his lips in amusement.

"Am I interrupting something?" Mingyu asked, posture strenuously relaxed and an easy going smile on his face but Jeonghan could see through him clearly. He noticed a grim look flash in his eyes as they landed on Inhye's hands that were still atop Jeonghan's.

Inhye pulled away from him before a sly curve of his lips took over her face. Jeonghan was no stranger to their feelings and passing glances filled with affection. Their clandestine moments fueled by hushed whispers did not go unnoticed by Jeonghan's keen eyes. Yet, they would not confess their feelings outright to each other and Jeonghan was tired of their constant push and pull.