At the restaurant, Seo-in browsed the menu while Luca scrolled aimlessly through his phone. After a particularly long pause, she peered over to see him frowning at the screen, the corners of his lips tugging downwards.
"Work stuff?" she asked, nudging his leg with her foot.
Luca's head snapped up, surprise in his eyes—as though he'd been lost in thought.
"Uh, yeah. Just—" He shrugged it off, setting down the phone and flipping his menu with excessive interest. "Some research project I'm stuck on."
Seo-in tilted her head, studying his face for a moment longer than necessary.
"Luca-yah," she said slowly, poking the back of his hand with her chopstick. "You get this exact wrinkle between your eyebrows when you lie."
He opened his mouth to protest, then deflated with a sigh when she arched an unimpressed brow at him.
"...Fine. It's my dad again," he muttered, swirling his water glass with unnecessary force. "Surprise. Wants me to 'discuss my future' over dinner tomorrow." The air quotes were practically audible.
Seo-in's playful expression softened instantly into something fierce and protective—the same look she'd worn years ago in high school when Luca's father had last ambushed him during finals week with accusations of wasting potential. Without missing a beat, she plucked the untouched plate of banchan closest to him and dumped half its contents onto his rice bowl in silent solidarity before declaring:
"Then I'm crashing that dinner."
The waiter arriving with their sizzling bulgogi flinched at the murderous glint in her eyes as Luca choked on laughter—equal parts touched and terrified by her tone. As the waiter backed away with a hasty bow, Luca leaned over the table, resting his chin on a propped hand.
"Hase. You can't just ... intimidate my dad into submission at a family dinner. I'm trying to prove I'm a responsible adult, not an edgy teenager."
Seo-in rolled her eyes. "Your dad called you a 'prodigal disappointment' because you chose a computer science degree instead of following in the family 'business'. Pretty sure that ship's sailed."
Luca winced; the insult still struck far too close to home. "He's just ... set in his ways," he said quietly. "Traditional Korean sons don't do startup companies like mine. They become top surgeons or CEOs or—"
Seo-in's hand shot out to cover his mouth, cutting off his rant. "You know what you are?" she asked pointedly.
Luca could only respond with a hum, still muffled by her palm.
"You are a genius who will start a tech business from scratch and successfully turn it into a cool unicorn," she said, voice firm. "And if your dad can't see past his own narrow views—"
Luca's hand reached up and gently pushed hers down from his face. "Hase," he interrupted, eyes crinkling. There was gratitude in his gaze, mixed with something else she couldn't decipher. "I appreciate the support. But I've dealt with this for years, okay? I can handle one stubborn old man."
Seo-in let out a frustrated huff, but her shoulders relaxed—a silent surrender. "Fine. But I'm still coming with you to this 'family dinner from hell.' Just in case."
Luca smirked, the earlier tension slipping away as he raised an eyebrow. "Aww, my very own bodyguard? Gonna sit on my dad like a hawk?"
Seo-in grinned fiercely. "Oh, I'll do more than sit if he says one wrong word about my boyfriend's success."
"I hope your parents can accept me if I'm a little more successful..." he said while staring at the reflection of his own face in the ramyeon soup in front of him.
Seo-in's chopsticks froze midair at his words. She set them down carefully—too carefully—before fixing Luca with a look so intense, he actually leaned back in his chair.
"Luca," she said slowly, voice dangerously sweet, "if my parents can't accept you—the literal human equivalent of a golden retriever who also happens to be a tech genius with perfect dimple, then they don't deserve either of us." She jabbed her finger toward his reflection in the soup for emphasis. "Especially not after I spent six months teaching you how to eat samgyeopsal without setting the grill on fire."
Luca blinked. "...We agreed never to mention The Grill Incident again."
Seo-in smirked and stole a piece of meat from his plate with deliberate smugness. "Payback for your self-deprecation and your dad's nonsense." Then, softer: "They will. Or I'll disown them."
The sheer conviction in her tone made Luca's chest tighten impossibly and just like that, the ramyeon reflection blurred into something warmer than soup could ever be.
***
They finally returned to the apartment at 9 p.m., and Luca brought the bouquet of flowers in for Seo-in, as her feet were no longer able to walk. New shoes always gave her blisters.
"And ruin the view of your legs?" Luca teased, sinking down beside her. "Not happening." He nudged her legs onto his lap, fingers finding the aching muscles on her foot automatically.
Seo-in couldn't help it—she practically moaned in relief as Luca's hands went to work. "Mmmh ... I should buy cheap shoes more often if this is my reward," she sighed, sinking back into the couch cushions. "God, I forgot how good your hands are at everything."
Luca stared at her for a moment before he smiled mischievously when he heard her words.
Seo-in knew that smile all too well. That was his "I'm about to be a cheeky brat" smile. She narrowed her eyes, propping herself up on her elbows.
"Luca-yah," she intoned warningly, "if you even think about—"
Too late. Luca's fingers suddenly turned blindingly ticklish.
Seo-in shrieked in surprise, trying to scramble off the couch while fending off his assault. "N-no—! Yah—I swear I'll—"
"Hah! Too slow," Luca crowed, dodging her flailing limbs as he kept up the merciless tickle attack. Seo-in was a wiggling, laughing mess beneath him, her protests dissolving into breathless giggles.
"L-Luca-yah—STOP or I'll—!" she wheezed between bursts of laughter, twisting to grab a couch pillow and smacking him half-heartedly with it.
He caught the pillow mid-swing and used it to gently pin her wrists above her head—grinning like the absolute menace he was.
"You'll what, huh?"
Seo-in glared up at him with zero heat and suspiciously flushed cheeks. "...Never let you do my foot rubs again."
Luca gasped in mock horror—then leaned down to whisper, "Liar. You love my hands too much for that."
And just to prove his point, he traced one slow circle on her inner wrist that made her shiver instantly.
Point made.