Absinthe novel Chapter 61

I forced Jiwoo to shower first because based on experience, the two of us are not good at showering together. The moment he came out, he complained that he was hungry and asked if I wanted to eat some instant noodles with him.

"There's some chashu and soy-eggs in the fridge," I said. "I think there are some mushrooms you can use as well."

"Can I borrow something to wear?"

I pointed him to the other door leading to my wardrobe. "The PJ's are on the left most closet."

I showered rather quickly but took my time with my skincare routine. I'm sure Jiwoo would wait until I'm out before he cooks the noodles. After that, I donned my Paul Smith iconic multi-stripe printed cotton pajamas and headed for the kitchen.

"Yoh," Jiwoo greeted. "Perfect timing! The noodles are just about done!"

All my sleepwear were intentionally a size bigger than me so they're quite loose. But my navy-colored, silk-satin Dolce and Gabbana pajama set was a stunning fit to Jiwoo's frame. My feet carried me over to where he was without my express permission! My arms, too, rebelled against my will and took Jiwoo in a tight hug. My head started rubbing itself against the smoothness of the silk and the hardness of his torso.

I must have been doing that for some time because Jiwoo ruffling my hair and said, "The ramyun will get cold if you don't let go."

Hesitantly, I let go. "I'm sorry, too."

Jiwoo flashed me his boyish grin. "I told you, sex solves everything."

I frowned and walked towards the other side of the kitchen island where the high stools were. "Way to ruin the mood!"

Jiwoo laughed as he served the still smoking instant ramyun that did not look like instant ramyun at all. The noodles were arranged well at the center of the bowl. Half of a soy-flavored egg and thinly sliced pieces of chashu meat adorned the side. There was a generous serving of plump shitake mushrooms as well as green onions, and cut pieces of seasoned laver. And there's that unique aroma coming from it that I just couldn't quite identify. I sniffed it all in, all the flavors and the aroma, and was starting to salivate.

"I took out some side dishes," Jiwoo said. "Just in case you want some."

We ate in silence – or rather, we couldn't speak as we both busied ourselves with our bowls of hot, steaming ramyun. The only noise in the house was the sound of our lips blowing the noodles cold, and of our slurps as they slide down our throats.

"What's that smell?" I asked, still failing to identify that special aroma that made the ramyun exponentially tempting. "I can't seem to get it. It's like freshly ground nuts."

Jiwoo smiled patronizingly. "Almost there."

"I get it!" I exclaimed. "It's sesame oil. Did I have one in the pantry?"

Jiwoo nodded and suddenly spoke in fluent Korean. "You done with the noodles? Shall we mix in the rice?"

"Fuck! You can speak Korean?" I answered back in equally fluent but less than respectful Korean. "I can't believe this."

Jiwoo laughed loudly. "There's a charity institute that teaches us Korean-Filipinos about the language and the culture of the swines who left us to rot here."

Jiwoo was laughing but what he said felt like a heavy blow. Not to me, per se, but it was painful to hear nonetheless.

"Do you hate him?" I asked. "Your father?"

Jiwoo shrugged. "How do you hate someone you haven't met? Anyway, you haven't answered my question. Do I mix the rice?"

It seemed that Jiwoo didn't want to discuss his father's issue anymore and it wouldn't be respectful if I probed further. "Rice? I'm in."

Jiwoo fetched some rice from the rice cooker and dumped generous servings to his bowl and mine. We let the rice sit in the ramyun soup for a few seconds before we started eating again.

"Ahhh," I said, savoring the taste of the soup-infused rice. "When it comes to instant noodles, Shin Ramyun really is the best."

Jiwoo nodded in agreement. "Eat some kimchi."

Kimchi? How far exactly is Jiwoo's connection to Korean culture? I knew that his father was a Korean tourist who left after knocking up his mom, but... how much does he really know about Korea?

"You know, to be honest with you..." I began, "I have a lot of resentment towards Korea."

Jiwoo looked up at me expectantly, a spoonful of rice halfway towards his face.

"I used to work in Korea, you know." I said.

Jiwoo nodded and proceeded to swallow the rice before turning to his chopsticks to get a piece of kimchi to go along with it.

"I worked for Samsong Group's head office in Seoul."

"Really?" Jiwoo asked. "And you quit to pursue cooking?"

I shook my head. "I got fired because the CEO saw me kissing JM."

I put down my spoon but Jiwoo kept on eating.

"It seems like I have something to thank JM for," he said.

"What? For getting me fired?"

Jiwoo shook his head again. "If not for him, then I wouldn't have met you, right?"

I don't really know why but I couldn't stop myself from asking it. "Why do you like me?"

Jiwoo burped softly after cleaning up his bowl. He put his spoon down and turned to me.