“Wow, look at you.”
Eun sang set down her spoon and washed down her dinner with a swig of water. “What are you looking at?” The bite went out of her voice as she sat back, allowing a semi food coma to blanket her.
Young Do sat across from her in that prim manner of his, as though admiring a morning dawn, chin resting on palm. “You sure eat well.”
She gave a soft “hmph,” at whatever implication he was making. “Of course I have to eat well. I need to refuel since my mom didn’t let me have anything good to eat while I was sick.”
“What are you talking about? I made you such good porridge that time.”
Porridge could get boring after a while, even the ones made by the infamous Choi Young Do.