Page 41 of From Paris to Seoul (K-Drama Love Story #2)

That made me laugh—an actual, real laugh that bubbled out before I could stop it. I swatted his arm lightly. “Are you serious right now?”

His expression was all wide-eyed innocence. “What?” Then his grin deepened, eyes twinkling. “I’m just being thoughtful. It’s past dinner time. What if you haven’t eaten yet?”

I shook my head, biting my lip to keep from smiling too much, feeling the last bit of tension melt away.

Baekhyun squeezed my hand lightly, waiting for my answer.

Maybe it was reckless. Maybe it was stupid. But with Baekhyun, I always followed my heart, not my head.

“…Alright,” I finally said, pretending to hesitate. “But only if you actually cook them properly this time.”

He let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. I’ll even add kimchi. Happy?”

Just like that, he took my hand again, leading me away—from the alley, from the café, from all the doubt I had carried with me tonight.

And this time, I didn’t look back.

***

I never imagined Baekhyun actually grew up living above a small restaurant.

Before long, we arrived at his family’s house, and even though I knew nobody was home, I still tiptoed inside.

It felt strange being in an empty restaurant, surrounded by vacant tables, the smell of jjampong and jjajangmyeon still lingering in the air.

“By the way, is it okay for you to just leave the café like that?”

Baekhyun blinked, as if just realizing. “Right! I need to make a call…” He excused himself and stepped into a quieter corner of the restaurant.

As he walked away, I wandered further inside, taking in the quiet atmosphere. My fingers trailed along the edge of a table before my gaze drifted toward the kitchen.

I’d never been inside a restaurant kitchen before, but something about this one—small, lived-in—felt warm. It wasn’t hard to picture a younger Baekhyun here, washing dishes for his mom or doing his homework at an empty table while she cooked.

A moment later, Baekhyun returned, stretching his arms above his head. “Crisis averted. The café can survive one night without me.”

I smirked. “Good to know. Wouldn’t want your fans rioting.”

He chuckled, but as I studied his face, my tone grew more serious. “And… did you talk to the girl who was cheering for you at the café?”

There was a slight pause before he nodded.

The air between us grew heavier. “Yeah… that was Sun-hee. My ex. The one I went to Paris with.” He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You knew that we broke up, but… she still contacts me all the time. I don’t think she really gets that it’s over. But I think she finally gets it now.”

I gave a small nod, understanding all too well. It was the same with me and Min-seok.

Baekhyun shrugged, breaking the moment. “Anyway, since you so graciously agreed to eat at my place, I figured we should actually cook something instead of just making instant noodles.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting we cook?”

“Well, I am. You… I don’t know. Can you cook?”

I hesitated. “Define ‘cook’?”

He groaned. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Okay, I’ll keep it simple—let’s make kimchi fried rice.”

I nodded like I knew exactly what I was doing. “Sounds easy enough.”

Baekhyun clapped his hands together, quickly pulled out a frying pan from a drawer, set it on the stove, and turned on the heat. Then, stepping back behind the counter, he gestured for me to take over. “Alright, step one: put the rice in the pan.”

I spotted a rice dispenser in the corner, grabbed an empty bowl, and filled it to the brim with rice. Then, without hesitation, I dumped the entire thing straight into the pan. “Like this?”

Complete silence.

I turned to see Baekhyun staring at me, his mouth slightly open. “…Uh, you need to cook the rice first.”

I blinked. “Wait… so the rice isn’t supposed to be cooked in this pan?”

He let out a long, dramatic sigh, pressing his fingers to his temples like he suddenly had a headache. “You need to boil the water first—” He cut himself off with another sigh. “Forget it, let me check if we have any leftover rice in the fridge.”

“Well, sorry, but the instructions weren’t clear!” I huffed in frustration.

As he rummaged through the fridge, I noticed his shoulders shaking.

“Are you—are you laughing?”

His back moved up and down. “No.”

“You are.”

Baekhyun cleared his throat, but his voice still shook with laughter. “So you are indeed a prin—”

I immediately clamped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t.”

His eyes crinkled with amusement. Then, instead of prying my hand away, he gently lifted it from his lips, holding it for a second before leaning in—just enough to place a soft, lingering kiss against my lips.

“I missed you.” His eyes still twinkled with laughter. “But I really need to take over now before you burn my mom’s kitchen.”

With an easy roll of his sleeves, he got to work. He pulled out a cutting board, peeled a few cloves of garlic, and diced them with effortless precision. Then, moving on autopilot, he grabbed a container of kimchi from the fridge, along with some ham and a bowl of perfectly chilled, leftover rice.

I watched him from behind, quietly impressed.

He’d make a good husband one day.

“What?” he asked suddenly, not even turning around.

I blinked, caught. “Nothing, nothing.”

Baekhyun finally turned to me, a small smirk playing on his lips, as if he already knew what I was thinking. But instead of calling me out, he simply shook his head and went back to cooking.

He mixed the ingredients in the pan with practiced familiarity, the sizzle filling the kitchen as he poured in some sauce and a drizzle of sesame oil. The rich, savory aroma of kimchi and garlic thickened in the air, making my stomach grumble before I could stop it.

Baekhyun glanced over, his mouth curved into a lopsided smile. “Almost done,” he said as he plated the fried rice, then cracked two eggs, frying them sunny-side up to place on top.

“There, all done,” he announced proudly, setting the plates on the table.

I slid into my seat, inhaling deeply. “Wow, this smells amazing.”

Baekhyun grinned as he sat across from me. “I still prefer instant noodles, though.”

I shot him a glare but was too hungry to argue. Instead, I raised my spoon and took the first bite. The flavors hit instantly—savory, spicy, with just the right amount of tang from the kimchi. “It’s so good!” I squealed.

Baekhyun looks pleased, but before he could say anything, I shook my head in disbelief. “Seriously, is there anything you’re bad at? You can play music without even trying, speak French like it’s nothing, you have a nice voice, a nice face…”

His smirk deepened. “Go on.”

I rolled my eyes, shoving another spoonful of rice into my mouth to stop myself from feeding his ego any further.

As we ate, Baekhyun glanced at me, his voice softer than before. “So… how have you been?”

I paused, spoon hovering over my plate. There was something about the way he asked that made me want to unwind everything.

“I’m okay,” I said after a beat. “Busy, mostly.”

He studied me for a second, as if searching for a deeper meaning behind my words. “Really?”

I let out a small breath, pushing my food around. “Well, during my escapade to Paris… my ex called my family.”

Baekhyun’s expression darkened instantly. “What?”

“Yeah. Just… out of nowhere. Like we didn’t break up. Like he didn’t cheat on me after six years together.” I scoffed. “My mom didn’t know, of course, so she kept pushing me, asking what happened and why I ran away to Paris.”

Baekhyun set his spoon down with a sharp clink, his jaw tightening. “And?”

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. “And I reminded him that we’re done. Told him he should stop being delusional.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, and he exhaled through his nose.

“Anyway, I really don’t want to talk about him anymore. Actually, I don’t want to talk about my life much at all right now—nothing good has happened since I left Paris,” I said with a chuckle, then added, “I’m officially unemployed too—my agency dropped me for leaving without notice.”

Baekhyun reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. I glanced up and smiled, as if to tell him not to worry. “So… let’s talk about you instead. How have you been?”

He frowned slightly, his fingers still wrapped around mine, but stayed quiet.

I raised my eyebrows, silently urging him. Well? I’m listening.

Finally, he exhaled, a small smile tugging at his lips as he rested his arms on the table. “I’ve been busy too.”

“You heard my song. I met with a producer and spent some time in his studio.”

I sat up a little. “Tell me more about it.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Turns out, it’s pretty easy to produce and self-publish music nowadays. He helped me upload a track to a streaming platform, and I got a couple hundred listens in the first few days,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

My eyes widened. “Baekhyun, that’s amazing!”

He grinned. “I think it’s really about luck and how you promote the song. This producer knows what he’s doing, so… who knows? It could turn into something, or it could be nothing. But I like making music—more than acting or posing as a model. And that’s what matters.”

I reached across the table and lightly squeezed his wrist, a mischievous smile playing on my lips. “Since you wrote a song about me, shouldn’t I get a percentage of the royalties or something?”

He squinted at me and clicked his tongue in mock disapproval. “Look at you, diving straight into business.”

I laughed. “Well, as an unemployed person, I need to get creative about making money.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

After a brief pause, he leaned in slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Alright, enough about me. What’s your plan, then? Still busy being a responsible adult?”

I shot him another glare but then sighed. “Actually… I’ve been thinking about becoming a piano teacher.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly, as if just realizing that was an option. “A teacher?”