XLI: Blood Sausage

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
"Yay! Snow! I love snow!" I shouted, racing toward the nearest lump of white powdery goodness.
Scooping a handful, I tossed it into the air, letting it rain down over my head and shoulders. The chill seeped through my clothes, but I didn't care. The sheer joy of playing in the snow warmed me in a way no coat ever could. I gathered more, flinging it skyward to create my own mini snowfall, laughing as the icy crystals melted on my skin.
Yoongi lingered nearby, his lips curving into a faint smile as he watched me. His expression was unreadable, but there was a warmth to it that made me feel like a child again, playing in a winter wonderland.
After a while, I noticed him standing a short distance away, his gaze fixed on me. The moment I turned to look at him, he quickly shifted his eyes to some vague point in the distance.
A mischievous idea popped into my head. Grinning to myself, I scooped up a handful of snow and compacted it into a firm ball. With barely a second's hesitation, I hurled it with all my might.
SPLAT! The snowball hit Yoongi square on the side of his face.
His head snapped in my direction, his eyes narrowing as I stood there, whistling innocently with my hands stuffed in my pockets.
Before I could react, a snowball came hurtling toward me. SLAP! The cold impact stung my cheek, leaving my face crimson from the chill.
"Really, Yoongi?" I brushed off the crushed snow and glared at him. He smirked, his expression practically daring me to retaliate.
Fine. If he wanted a fight, he'd get one.
I dropped to my knees, gathering as much snow as I could and piling it up on my side like ammunition. Yoongi did the same, and soon, we were locked in a full-blown snow war.
The scene turned chaotic. Snowballs flew back and forth like comets, and a few unfortunate bystanders became accidental casualties. Instead of being annoyed, they laughed and cheered us on, turning into our unofficial audience. Yoongi became the leader of the "polar bears," while I commanded the "penguins."
The battle raged for nearly an hour until I finally collapsed onto the snow, huffing and shivering. My arms ached, and my shoulders were stiff from the cold.
"I give up," I panted, throwing my hands up in surrender. "I can't do this anymore."
Yoongi chuckled. "Aww, low stamina already? What do you want to do now?"
I sat up, my stomach rumbling loudly in response. "Eat. I'm starving. There's a restaurant nearby that serves the best blood sausage soup."
Yoongi's smile faltered, replaced by a puzzled frown. I mentally facepalmed. Of course, he wouldn't know about food-he doesn't even eat.
"Uh, you can come with me or head home," I offered awkwardly.
"I'll come," he said simply, striding ahead along the snowy path.
---
"One blood sausage soup and a bottle of soju, please!" I said, rubbing my palms together to warm them.
As the waitress set the steaming bowl in front of me, she turned to Yoongi. "What about you, sir?"
Yoongi stared at my soup like it was a foreign object. "I don't want anything," he muttered. "I can't eat this."
The waitress blinked in confusion. "Oh? But we're famous for our blood sausage. Would you like to try-"
"Actually, he's on a diet," I cut in quickly. "He's avoiding heavy food right now."
"Oh, I see. My apologies, sir. Please enjoy your time." She gave a polite bow and walked away.
I sighed in relief and dug into my soup. The rich, savory flavors were divine, warming me from the inside out. After finishing the bowl, I poured myself a shot of soju.
"Is that alcohol?" Yoongi asked, his blue eyes narrowing.
"Yeah, but don't worry. I'm not planning to overdo it," I reassured him, taking a small sip.
"Better not," he said, leaning back in his chair. "You don't want Mr. Min giving you another lecture."
I rolled my eyes but took his advice, leaving the second bottle untouched. Uncle would never let me hear the end of it if I came home drunk again.
---
By the time we left the restaurant, the sky had turned a soft orange, the sun dipping low on the horizon. The chilly air nipped at my cheeks as we walked back.
The warmth from the meal lingered, and as I slipped through the front door, I spotted Uncle sitting in the living room. Beside him was a figure dressed in a crisp white shirt.
"There she is," Uncle announced, turning to look at me.
The stranger swiveled around, flashing a bright smile.
I froze, my eyes widening. "What are you doing here at this hour?"

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[UNEDITED]
What do you think? Who can this be? Stay tuned for the next part.
See ya soon.