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«I’ll eat whatever you cook,» I shrugged nonchalantly and started slicing carrots, «should have just ordered delivery.»

«I don’t eat food that I don’t know the origin of,» he repeated what he had once told me.

«Why?» I asked, but he left my question unanswered, and I decided not to focus on this, surrendering to the simple process of cutting vegetables.

«My obsession… because of my mother,» he replied after a long silence, «I don’t trust food that I don’t know anything about, for fear that it might be poisoned,» he said without looking at me, while continuing to fill rice cooker with raw rice, and then filled it with water.

«Are you saying that…?» With horror, I began to put forward my assumption.

«Yes, my mother fed me poisoned food,» he said quickly, hiding his grim expression from me.

«Song Joon, this is…» I couldn’t finish the sentence as there were no words that could ease his suffering.

«You don’t need to say anything. I just explained my strange actions to you.»

«I never thought that your actions were strange. Well, okay, at first, maybe I thought, but then I realized that you must have some good reason for this.» I reasoned as if I was alone in the apartment, which made Sung Joon smile weakly.