perfectmatch | week two

I . . .

[His mind races insofar that his thoughts collide, resulting in an unsightly tangle beneath his distant-eyed visage. Just as he considers dismissing the matter for the sake of convenience, he recalls Yingying's heartfelt response at the ceremony, and the joyful look she wore then.]

. . . want to dream.

[ There's a part of her that's still uncertain — why had he refused in the first place, then? — but she also thinks that no one word from him is said without thought or care. He must have thought a lot about this. Her eyes close, unintentionally giving him a short reprieve from being looked at. ]

If that's your wish... then tonight, I'll sing for you. Just you, sweetheart.

[ She'll watch over his sleep to ensure it's peaceful, she'll be there if anything happens. Her circumstances are unique... and she can afford to stay up one night to grant his wish. ]

[When her eyes close, it grants him the rare opportunity to look at her with impunity.

Dimly, he wonders what her song will show him in the world of dreams. Will he open his eyes to a field of spicebushes, or will the fragrance of wisteria greet him? Will the air he borrows be clear? Or . . . will he fail to dream at all?]

I thank you.

[ She doesn't respond directly to his thanks, simply taking it in stride. This sort of thing doesn't require gratitude, in her own mind. Besides, she'd like it if things between them didn't feel transactional, or that he owes her, or is indebted to her, or is burdening her. When her eyes open again, they're clear and calm, looking up to see the waiter coming their way again.

When they ask again what they'd like to order, she speaks first again. ]

You can just order for me, sweetheart.

[ She'll trust his intuition! ]

[His bulgogi intuition?

Yi Sang gives the menu another look before ordering pancakes of no importance for himself and cinnamon bun crepes on Yingying's behalf. Afterward, he relinquishes the menu to the waiter, who takes off to relay the order, and turns back to Yingying.]

Will that suffice?

[ Maybe Yi Sang doesn't like sweets very much...? The wide valley between their orders seems a little odd, but then again, it could just be his preference. She was half expecting him to order them both whatever the plainest, easiest option was, so this is a pleasant surprise in its own right. ]

Mm, it does, [ She nods, eyes bright with curiosity. What is a cinnamon bun? Or a crepe? ] I don't know very much about the cuisine in this era, so I thought I'd just let you take care of me.

[ A casual admission. In this and other matters regarding the outside world, she's happy to be led around by him by what she assumes is heightened awareness. He's so smart and studious, after all. Still curious about the orders, she keeps prodding: ]

These "pancakes," what are they like? Are they your favorite?

[Rare as it is for him to make choices for others, Yingying's reasoning is fair, if telling of a few things. She'll likely react with grace regardless of how she feels about the crepes, though it would be within her rights to speak up if he's made a poor decision once they come around. For now:]

Though I do not typically partake of them, they are a type of cake oft served with syrup. Regional differences have them come in various forms, as well as an assortment of toppings or fillings. The dish for which I have placed an order lies on the simpler side with a flatter appearance.

[ what this thread looks like to onlookers

]

So it's more of a sweet breakfast...

[ Nodding, nodding, she gets it. There were always small cakes cooked on griddles or baked in ovens in her village, too, but they usually had nuts and honey rather than syrup. ]

Come to think of it, you don't seem like the kind of guy who really likes sweets. [ She takes a sip of her coffee now that it's cooled down some — it's bitter, but her dulled sense of taste makes it not too offensive. ] Unless you've secretly got a sweet tooth you haven't told me about...?

[10/10, no notes.]

I have no particular attachments to speak of. While I am not partial, I do not like especially dislike it, either.

[Once upon a time, he might've had the appetite for something novel like this. These days it's difficult to rouse anything but nostalgia unless there's an exceptionally potent aspect of what he's eating or drinking.]

Mm, I don't believe that.

[ She waves a hand at him. The words are a little blunt, but not unkind — she just doesn't think it's possible for someone to feel 'whatever' about every kind of food in existence. ]

Everyone has things they like and don't like... there must be something you really don't like eating. Like a vegetable, or raw fish, or something like that...

[ Everyone has a least favorite vegetable or food. Maybe he's just not picky, but she refuses to believe he has zero opinions on anything. ]

[Naturally, he has things he likes. Where he once took delight in them, however, they now sputter with a few sparks at best, if at all. And his dislikes are even less stimulating, because, like all things, they will come and go.]

. . . Is such the case for you, Miss Yingying?

[A vegetable or raw fish.]

I don't like wintermelon.

[ Immediately, because she is going to lead by example. It's normal to have strong opinions about simple things like this! ]

I'm not very picky! But that's one thing I never liked much.

[It's an oddly specific answer, yet wholly appropriate for the question posed. After all, it's normal to have a handful of names for something like foods one doesn't like.]

Does the flavor or texture disagree with you?

It's the flavor...

[ She even wrinkles her nose a little for effect. ]

Sometimes, it's put into tea or juice. There are plenty of other fruits or vegetables more suitable, that's all.

[The rest are okay, then. How fortunate that wintermelon wasn't on the menu.

In any case, he understands why she's come around to this topic. It's an indulgence, geared toward coaxing an answer out of him. After a moment of consideration, he puts forth slowly:]

I have a preference for rice.

week two | dates

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