Thankfully, Wooheon wasn’t standing there.
He was at the table.
Yueul crept over and sat down awkwardly.
His mouth was dry, so he reached for the water first.
Once his throat was soothed, he glanced over the dishes.
“Oh—rolled omelet!”
He lit up at the sight of three fat slices of rolled omelets.
“I figured you liked them, so I made some. I was going to add ham or carrots, but I didn’t go for my morning jog today, so I couldn’t buy any.”
“Oh no, it’s totally fine. Rolled omelets are good even plain.”
They were one of Yueul’s favorites—something his old guardian used to make all the time when he was little.
Rolled omelets, and rice balls wrapped in seaweed flakes with kimchi.
There might be fancier food out there, but those two were still his top picks.
He popped one into his mouth and savored it.
The omelet, faintly browned around the edges, was moist and delicious.
The seasoning was just right.
“But I feel kind of bad,” he mumbled.
