#cafe!au

Mingi frowned, tilting his head to the side as if it would shake his brain into understanding.

“So, hot then...?”

The customer shook his head, “no, no. Cold, still, but with no ice. Only chilled.”

Mingi kept on staring.

“With the proportions of the iced version,” the man clarified, leaning towards the counter as he gestured with his hands. “I just don’t like ice messing with the flavor. Or clinking around. It just… hits different.”

Mingi paused, then nodded slowly, eyebrows still knitted together. “Right. Got it.”

He turned toward the drink station, mumbling more to himself than anything else. “Iced honey tea. No ice.”

As he reached for the shaker and a chilled glass, he heard the man speak again.

“I’m Yunho, by the way.”

Mingi glanced back over his shoulder, surprised. Yunho’s chin was resting in his hand now, expression easy, expectant.

“Mingi.”

Yunho repeated the name under his breath, like he was testing the weight of it. “Cool.”

For a moment, Mingi thought that was it. But then Yunho added, voice soft and bright all at once:

“Well. See you tomorrow then, Mingi.”

[…]

And the next day, he was there, like clockwork. Same time, same order, same smile plastered on his lips.

Mingi had started the morning so early he felt like a ghost haunting his own skin. The café was a small one, tucked on a quiet corner of a side street, owned by an ajumma who had known him since he was a kid—close enough to be family, but just far enough to still make him work like a dog.

It was usually just him and Wooyoung holding the place together. Mingi stayed in the kitchen, where he belonged, where the world stayed behind a swinging door and he could focus on spices, simmering sauces, fresh bread, the scent of butter sizzling. And Wooyoung—brilliant, chatty, infuriatingly charming—ran the counter like it was a stage made just for him.

But two days ago, as Mingi jumped on the bus, his phone lit up with a few messages from the other boy.

woo: bro i’m dying. flu. ur up?

woo: tell my fans i love them. don’t burn the place down

Mingi hadn’t replied, but he’d sighed so hard the windows fogged.

Now here he was, elbow-deep in espresso and awkward customer service, when all he wanted was to be back behind the kitchen door, talking to no one. Enjoying music in his solitude as he handled the stove.

He wasn’t even good at making coffee. He knew shit about steaming milk and would cry internally every time someone asked if he could make a heart foam. To spare himself and everyone else the disappointment, he’d scribbled a warning beneath the daily specials on the café’s chalkboard wall:

“Our barista is away. I’m the cook. I’m bad at coffee. Be nice.”

He even added a frowning stick figure holding a cup. It felt honest.

Some people laughed. One person had asked if it was a marketing gimmick, but most of them didn’t question any further.

It was early afternoon now, and the lull between lunch and the after-work crowd settled over the café like a sleepy sigh. The sunlight stretched long across the counter, and Mingi leaned back against the espresso machine, absently wiping his hands on a dish towel, when the bell above the door chimed.

And there he was again.

Yunho.

As consistent as time.

He wore a cream knit vest over a soft blue shirt today, slacks a little more casual than yesterday, hair still somehow flawless. And that same damn smile—that same warm, open expression that made Mingi feel both seen and like he should immediately hide.

Mingi straightened instinctively.

“Iced honey tea, no ice,” Yunho said before even reaching the counter. “Unless you’re still against it?”

Mingi snorted—just barely. “Can’t refuse a paying costumer.”

He turned to prepare it without further comment, but Yunho stayed by the counter, watching him work like it was a performance. Not in a mocking way. Like in an experiment.

“New memo, I see” Yunho pointed at the blackboard. “How’s that working out?”

Mingi opened the fridge where he kept the chilled tea he made in the morning, since he knew Yunho would be back in the evening. “I still get coffee orders,” he muttered, pouring the golden liquid carefully into a glass. “But at least they were warned.”

“Ah! You made tea just for me?” Yunho placed a hand on his chest, tilting his face to the side.

Mingi felt his cheeks heating up from the recognition. “I thought it would be better like this, since the one I served you yesterday was still warm.”

Yunho blinked, then smiled—but this time, it was softer. Less performative.

“That’s very considerate,” he said, accepting the glass when Mingi slid it toward him. Their fingers brushed briefly, and he drew his hand back quickly, as if burned against the cold surface.

Yunho didn’t mention it. He took a sip and hummed. “You’re good at this.”

“I am bad at coffee” Mingi pointed at the blackboard. “Not at tea.”

“Well, maybe you should switch roles with Wooyoung for real, he always ends up adding ice to my tea in protest.”

Mingi tightened his lips, looking down at the dish towel on top of the counter, grabbing it to keep his hands busy. “I’m not good with people.”

“You seem good enough to me” Yunho smiled, the sunlight now shifting to his shoulders, almost blindingly.

Mingi didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure he could. His throat felt tight, and the words caught somewhere between his chest and his mouth, unsure whether they wanted to escape or stay hidden.

Instead, he turned to the sink, flicking on the tap and letting the sound of running water fill the quiet. He focused on the dishes sitting in the basin—two mugs and a plate—rinsing them carefully as if they required intense concentration.

“I’ll let you work,” Yunho said softly, reading the atmosphere like it was second nature.

He raised his glass in a casual toast—half a goodbye, half a promise—and turned away, walking toward his usual table by the window. Sunlight trailed him like it was tethered to his back, catching in the rim of his glass and the soft edges of his hair.

Mingi watched him go, pretending he wasn’t.

He turned back to the sink, scrubbing a plate that was already clean. But every few moments, despite himself, his gaze flicked sideways—drawn like a magnet to that quiet silhouette by the window. Yunho sat with his phone in hand, one leg crossed loosely over the other, sipping his tea with the kind of calm presence that didn’t demand attention but somehow held it anyway.

Mingi looked away quickly when Yunho shifted, suddenly feeling foolish. His cheeks burned.

God, he was being pathetic.

[…]

The next shift felt heavier in the air, even before the café opened.

Mingi arrived earlier than usual. He got so distracted the day before he forgot to prep the bread dough and the broth. Already annoyed with himself, he put on his headphones and chopped some chives to place in the freezer, only to cut his middle finger. Cussing to himself, he placed a small band-aid and placed things aside since he couldn’t work with a bleeding.

He moved through the motions with extra care, pouring the honey tea into the glass bottle he now kept chilled in the fridge—because of course he did. The first time was courtesy, this one was a forming habit he was trying not to be too attached on.

At least that’s what he told himself.

He checked the blackboard, the same note written in chalk still there, untouched. He wiped down the stick figure, thinking the frowning face didn’t suit it anymore.

This time, he added a smiley face. Just a small one. Almost invisible.

By the time late afternoon rolled in, Mingi had already rearranged the pastry case, cleaned the espresso machine twice, and checked the front door every time it chimed, even when he knew it wasn’t time yet.

But when the bell rang at exactly 4:03, Mingi didn’t need to look up to know.

It was the shift in the air. The warmth. The sound of shoes too clean for this dusty street.

“Iced honey tea, no ice,” Yunho said, already smiling as he made his way to the counter, voice curling with its usual easy warmth.

Mingi didn’t let himself smile back—but he didn’t frown either. That had to count for something. He reached down to open the fridge, careful not to bump his bandaged finger.

“What happened there?” Yunho asked from behind, catching him off guard.

He glanced down like he’d forgotten. “Cut myself this morning. It’s nothing.”

Yunho gasped, all mock-drama as he stepped up to the counter. “You bled for my tea? That’s real dedication.” He pressed a hand to his chest, eyes wide with theatrical awe. “I’m honored.”

Mingi rolled his eyes, scoffing quietly as he stirred honey into the glass with steady hands. He slid the drink across the counter with practiced ease, refusing to meet Yunho’s gaze.

Yunho accepted it with both hands like it was a sacred offering. He took a slow, exaggerated sip, then let out a satisfied sigh, eyes fluttering closed. “Ah. I can taste the blood, sweat and tears you poured into this fine drink.”

Mingi raised an eyebrow. “It’s just tea.”

“To you, maybe.” Yunho opened one eye. “But to me? It represents the art of suffering.”

That got the ghost of a smile out of Mingi—not full, but real.

Yunho paid for his drink and the newfound silence between them started to become a burden, intruding a little too much.

Mingi cleared his throat, wiping at an already clean spot on the counter. “You only drink tea?” he asked, the question tumbling out like it had been waiting for an excuse.

Yunho glanced up, mid-sip. “Not really. I get free coffee at the office.” He set the glass down. “I come here for tea because it’s too late in the day for caffeine. And it’s good, also”

Mingi blinked. “That a compliment?”

“Depends,” Yunho said, smiling behind the rim of his glass. “Do you want it to be?”

Mingi rolled his eyes and looked away, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him again.

“You work nearby?” he asked after a beat.

“Mm-hmm,” Yunho nodded. “Two blocks over. IT company. Lots of quiet people and humming computers. This place is my afternoon oxygen.”

He said it like it was nothing, but something about the way his eyes lingered on Mingi made it feel like more than a passing comment. He wondered why the other guy didn’t decide to go sit on the tables today.

“Must be nice,” Mingi said, voice quieter. “Having somewhere to go after work to breathe.”

Yunho leaned in a little. “Is this that place for you?”

Mingi froze—not outwardly, but inward, like something hit a nerve.

“…not at all,” he admitted, drying his hands on the towel again just for something to do. “I try to keep work and fun separated.”

Yunho smiled like he’d just been told a secret. “So what is your ‘fun’?”

Caught off guard, Mingi leaned back a little, his brows drawing together. His eyes flicked toward the window, like the answer might be hiding in the light.

“It’s stupid,” he said automatically.

“C’mon,” Yunho said, lifting his glass with a grin. “You make me my stupid tea every day. Fair’s fair.”

Mingi hesitated, thumb brushing the edge of the counter.

“I… I like making things. Jewelry, sometimes. Or little crafts.” His voice dropped like he regretted saying it already. “I don’t know. Stuff that feels small.”

Yunho blinked. Then smiled.

“How’s that stupid?” He tilted his head, like a puppy would. “That’s cool.”

Mingi scoffed under his breath. “You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not,” Yunho said, resting his chin in his hand. “It actually makes sense.”

Mingi raised a brow. “How?”

“You just seem like someone that pays a lot of attention to details” Yunho widened his smile. “Like the art on the bread, how things are all organized here, even your writing on the board is very neat.”

Mingi blinked at him. Yunho’s gaze was steady.

“It doesn’t surprise me at all that you’d make something delicate with your hands,” Yunho said. “You don’t even realize you’re already doing that here.”

Mingi looked away, suddenly overwhelmed by how exposed he felt. He covered his face to hide a blush, letting out a cough to mask it.

“I just like to keep things in place…” he muttered, “and quiet.”

Yunho took another sip. “I like quiet things too,” he said. Then, with a slight smile: “Especially when they talk back once in a while.”

Mingi’s gaze lifted, sharp and unsure. His lips pressed tight, searching for a response—but none came. His mind had already started spiraling through the weight of Yunho’s words, looping over what they meant and why they landed the way they did.

Before he could sink deeper into his own thoughts, the other guy brought him back to reality. “You ever close early?”

Mingi narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

Yunho shrugged. “Just wondering. Maybe one day I’ll get to see what you drink when you’re not the one behind the counter.”

That tugged something in Mingi’s chest.

He wasn’t sure what unsettled him more—the invitation, or the fact that he didn’t immediately want to say no.

So instead, he said nothing. He looked down, tugged the towel tighter in his hands, and tried to ignore the faint, rising warmth in his ears.

Yunho didn’t push. He took one last sip and set the glass gently on the counter.

“I’ll be around,” he said, stepping back. “Same time tomorrow, if you don’t change the locks.”

Mingi huffed a quiet breath, something close to a laugh caught beneath it.

“No promises.”

Yunho smiled, wider now, and gave a small wave as he turned toward the door.

The bell chimed gently behind him as he stepped into the streetlight-softened dusk.

Chan barely got any sleep last night. The countless thoughts, negative thoughts, threatened to take control of his mind and he dived deep into work to keep them away. The result? He stayed awake until 4am, even though he knew that he had to wake up early because of a meeting at JYP at 10am. 

It was around eight-thirty now. He still had some time to get ready and get something to eat from his favorite cafe before having to go to JYP, so he decided to do just that. After taking a quick shower, he grabbed his contact lens, and that’s when the second accident happened. While he was putting them on — very carefully, he had been doing this for years and was still not used to the feeling —, one of them slipped and fell right in the middle of the sink. Muttering a quick fuck, he started to look for his backup pair. After a couple minutes and no sign of them, he suddenly remembered that he left the backup pair in his room. At JYP. 

With a second shit, this time followed by a playful “no cursing, hyung!”, from Hyunjin, he went to his room to grab the glasses he kept there as a backup’s backup. He hated the thick black-rimmed thing. He felt like it made his nose look even bigger, if that was even possible. But, considering the poor circumstances, it was either the glasses or seeing barely nothing until he got at the company, and that wouldn’t do. 

After putting some comfortable clothes on — all black, no surprises here — and grabbing everything he needed, Chan said goodbye to the kids and went to the cafe. It was a cute little place about 10 minutes from the dorms that he found out on a morning walk, when he was so stressed that he couldn’t sleep, and working on his songs was not, well, working as well. On that occasion, the boy was on his second day with no sleep and he decided to try walking around the neighborhood to clear his mind. It wasn’t working very well, until he stumbled on the small cafe: a cute place decorated with pastel tones, dozens of photos of landscapes and pretty places in general on the brick walls inside, lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling and round tables with small vases with fresh flowers on each of them. 

Chan felt a sudden wave of calmness when he looked inside the place through the big glass window. There weren't many customers inside, but everyone there looked content, at peace, like as if it was a place just made for people who needed a break from their problems. Everything that composed the aura of the cafe was so appealing to Chan that he had to go inside. 

The girl at the counter opened a very friendly smile, welcomed him, and waited as he took a look at the drinks and food they had there. Everything they offered was written on the black board on the back with a beautiful calligraphy. They even had cute drawings to represent each item! That made him smile. Not even five minutes inside that place and he already could feel himself relaxing.

Not wanting to take too long to decide, he ordered a big cup of hot chocolate and a chocolate muffin. After paying, he went to sit next to the big window. With nothing to do while he waited, and regretting not taking his headphones with him, he just played some games on his phone to kill time until his order was ready. After a couple minutes, a different girl — he recognized her as the one who was making the drinks — brought him his food. She had a beautiful light brown skin, long dark curly hair up in a high pony-tail and the prettiest eyes. 

“Here you go. Enjoy your food!” The smile she gave him made his heart skip a beat.

“Thank you-” He took a quick look at her name on her uniform “Y/N.” Chan thanked, giving a smile of his own. “It looks really good!”

And he wasn’t just saying it. The hot chocolate looked thick and rich, just like he liked, and it even had those cute small marshmallows, whipped cream and a bit of cinnamon sprayed on top! The muffin looked really good too, chocolaty and fluffy.

Y/N gave him another smile and went back to the counter. Chan put his hands around the mug and just let it warm his hands for a little bit. It wasn’t so cold outside, but the feeling was nice. After a couple minutes, he took a sip of the chocolate and let out a low moan. The sweet drink tasted even better than it looked, and it made him feel really warm inside too.

The boy ate the — very delicious! — muffin rather quickly, but he took his time to finish the hot chocolate. He kept holding the mug with both hands and watched the people passing through the window while he took small sips of it, enjoying not having to do anything else for a while. On that day, after getting home, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. It was the best sleep he had in months.

After that day, he came back as many times as he could. Sometimes only to have a drink — usually hot chocolate, but he tried some others that looked interesting —, sometimes to do some work outside his studio. Working while watching other people living their own lives could be quite inspiring. And, he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t interested in seeing the pretty girl who made the drinks. 

While he didn’t actually interact with Y/N much, since he didn’t want to end up bothering her when she was working, the few conversations he had with her were enough to make Chan start to harbor a crush for the girl. She sat with him a couple times, usually when the cafe wasn’t that busy, and they talked about a little bit of everything. 

The first time that she stopped to talk with him after bringing his to him order was when he first took his laptop to the cafe and it surprised him quite a lot. He ordered his usual — literally, he went there enough times so the girl that worked at the front started to only ask “the usual?” after greeting him. Was it weird that that made him feel warm inside? Maybe, but it was the truth —, sat down and turned on his laptop. 

He had been working on a specific song for a while that he couldn’t get pleased with the result. After many days of frustration, he decided to try out working on it at the cafe. Maybe a change in the scenario would help? So Chan put his headphones, laptop and keyboard inside his black backpack and drove to the place.

The boy made his order and sat down at his — also — usual place, right next to the big windows. He placed everything on the table and opened the music editing software. The music sucked him as soon as he started to edit it, and he didn’t even notice when Y/N stopped right next to his table with his food. She stood there for a couple seconds, watching him work.

“Can I?” Her soft voice startled him, and he stood up in surprise. Then he got surprised once again. Y/N was tall. How could he never notice? She was a bit taller than him, even. He got a bit flustered with that information.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you-” Chan apologized, feeling his ears getting red, and started to move his stuff to make some room on the table for his drink and muffin. 

“It’s okay! I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to bother. Also, I was curious about what you were working on. It’s a new song?” The girl said all that with a quiet voice and a brilliant smile on her face.

“Ah-” He stuttered “Uh, yeah, it is.” Feeling his face getting even hotter, he just looked away and finished pushing his things a little bit to the right. She put the food on the table and he sat back again.

“I feel honored that you decided to work on it at our cafe.” And she sounded sincere, even though her voice had just a little bit a teasing in it. He was probably looking like a tomato already, and that’s when he realized something.

“Wait-” Chan looked at her face again and she raised her eyebrows in question. “Do you know who I am?” The shock on his voice made her playfully roll her eyes.

“You mean our most loyal client?” The confusion on his face made her laugh — the beautiful sound making his heart hurt in response. Then, with a soft smile on her face, she said. “Yes, best leader Bang Christopher Chan, I know who you are.” If he thought that his face was hot before, he felt like he was going to combust after hearing that. 

“Uh-” The boy gulped. “Uh-” He blinked a couple times. His brain was probably broken. 

She muttered something that sounded a lot like fucking cute and he felt his brain restarting with the shock.

“A-Are you a STAY?” She giggled at the question.

“I thought my previous comment made it obvious, but yes, Chan, I’m a STAY.” 

Y/N opened her mouth to say something else, but someone yelled her name. Both of them looked in the direction of the sound and saw a big line of customers. Her coworker had a big smile on her face that was obviously fake, and after taking an order from a client she looked at them and mouthed “Less flirting and more working, bitch.” 

This time, Y/N was the one who got flustered and the boy giggled at her coworker’s teasing, still feeling his face hot.  She quickly said goodbye to him and went back to work. Later that day, even after getting home, Chan was still thinking about the conversation with her and feeling his face hot.

After that day, he started to bring his laptop to the cafe more often, and he and Y/N got closer because of their talks. He didn’t show the songs he was making for the group, but he showed her some songs he was making for himself. Chan loved her reactions; her eyes seemed to shine whenever she was listening to something he made, and a smile never left her face. 

Thinking about that made him smile too, but that smile slipped from his face almost instantly. The traffic wasn’t that great that morning, and even though the drive to the cafe was short, some idiot almost caused an accident by running a red light, which was just what he needed. There was a lot of honking and some cursing around him, but thankfully no one got hurt. 

The boy gripped hard on the steering wheel — hard enough to make his knuckles white. That was a fucking ton of stress for someone who barely slept and was awake for little more than an hour. He took a deep breath and kept driving, and soon enough he was at the cafe.

Chan parked his car close to the place, took another deep breath and left the car. He tried to control his facial expressions so that his stress wouldn’t be that obvious, then he went inside. The place was empty, even more than usual, so he just approached the counter and greeted the girls. Both of them greeted him back and the one who was in charge of taking the orders asked him if he wanted the usual.

“Uh, actually, I have a meeting soon, so I can’t stay today.” He explained with a sorry smile. “Can you make my usual but to go?”

“Of course! That’s not a problem.” She answered with excitement. He didn’t have a clue about how she had so much energy that early in the morning. “A hot chocolate and a chocolate muffin to go coming right up.” 

He paid for the order, thanked her and took a few steps to the side to wait for his food. Usually Y/N started to work on his order right after Chan confirmed he wanted the same as usual, but today she took a good look at him first. The boy felt he was doing a good job at hiding how stressed he was, but for some reason, she seemed to be able to read him like a book.

The moment didn’t last much, and soon the girl started to make his drink. He kept himself busy with his phone while she was working, and after a couple minutes she put his cup and a brown bag in front of him. 

“Have a good day.” Y/N's soft voice warmed him. She looked like she wanted to say more, and he thought he could see worry in her pretty eyes, but a new customer entered at that moment and her attention flew to them.

“Thank you, Y/N.” A shy smile took over his face and she gave him one of her own. That warmed his heart even more and he felt the stress starting to fade. 

Chan took his drink and muffin, said goodbye to them and left the cafe. He wished he could have stayed there at least a little bit, but the meeting was going to start in less than an hour and he still wanted to search for his contact lens before it.

After he got back inside the car, he put the bag on the passenger seat and took a sip of the hot chocolate. While he was putting the cup on the cup holder, he noticed black ink on the white part of the cup. With a closer look, he noticed there was a message written there.

“Your smile brightens my day =)” 

His face burned as a blush took over his cheeks. The calligraphy was pretty and cheerful, just like Y/N, and just like that, with that sweet little message, he felt the ugly burning of stress disappear. 

The day may have started badly, especially after bad night of sleep, but one trip to his favorite cafe to — if he was being honest — see one of his favorite people was enough to make Chan feel like he could conquer the whole world. 

He didn’t look like anyone Jisung had ever introduced to you before. He looked youthful but stressed with a beauty mark just below his left eye. He tucked a few brown locks behind his ear before giving you a solemn, cordial grin.

“Hi, it’s my first day.”

Ryujin pressed her lips together before skipping away to wipe down some tables.

You wiped the espresso stains from your hands before extending out to him. “Hi, I’m (y/n), the day manager.”

“Hyunjin.”

“Have you worked in a cafe before Hyunjin?”

“If the espresso machine in my parents’ house counts, then yes.” He chuckled once. The comment made you question his age. It was a little difficult to tell.

You pulled a small notebook out of your apron pocket and motioned to the nearest table.

Time to see what Jisung signed you up for.

Hyunjin was very quiet. He would watch you press buttons and pull handles, but he hardly spoke outside of a few questions when the machines were too loud. You let him make a few drinks and found no issues to his memory. He just wasn’t social.

Ryujin left just before noon, and Jeongin walked in, finishing a delicate strawberry sandwich as he clumsily put away his workbook.

Jeongin mumbled a hello to you and then the same to Hyunjin before they disappeared together in the back. You could hear the faint bumbling of laughter. They must be friends. As Jeongin reemerged from the back with his apron on, he wiped the last bit of whipped cream from his sandwich away from his lip and greeted you again.

“You two know each other?”

“A little.” Jeongin started steaming milk for the latest order. “He used to stop by after closing, and he and Jisung hyung would talk a lot.”

Odd.

At 2:00pm, Jisung walked in, and Hyunjin’s demeanor changed. He smiled, he talked, he just didn’t talk to you. Maybe it was nerves? Or maybe you just looked scary. Hopefully, it wasn’t the latter.

“Jisung -” You entered the back room where Jisung sat, carefully doing inventory. You slipped your apron off before sitting behind him. “Who’s your friend?”

Jisung feigned cluelessness. “Who?”

Rolling your eyes, you threw the stained apron at his head. “Don’t play dumb. I already spent two hours training him this morning. The guy doesn’t talk. Not that it’s an issue, but he said maybe a total of twenty words to me today, and if he’s going to be working the morning shift with me, I think you should’ve at least left me a note about him.”

Your friend sighed before taking a seat on the floor. “It’s complicated. You don’t remember him?”

“Should I?”

“He dated Eunji back in high school. Class B’s student leader.”

“Ahh,” you remembered her very faintly. She was a petite scholar, very outspoken, had a lot of friends. While you two didn’t run in the same circles, you recalled her being nice at least. “Well, I can think of one or two times when I spoke to her - not him.”

“They dated senior year, started college together, and moved in together sometime around then.”

“Are they still together?”

Jisung hung his head back. “Awkward. No. If they were still together, he wouldn’t be here.”

Your face gave everything away.

Jisung chuckled, “Well, they broke up. Got back together. Then broke up again.”

“What does that have to do with us?”

“Because they broke up again when he found out she lied about the baby, and being the impulsive person he is, he moved out right away and didn’t even think twice as to where he could go. He’s been crashing at my place. And since Eunji works an 8-5, he only wanted to work mornings. Makes it easier so he might never see her in case she ever walks in.”

Awkward.

That would definitely explain why he didn’t talk too much. He probably doesn’t trust too many people. You wouldn’t either if you’d learned that your partner of nearly four years lied about something that important just to keep you around.

“Just don’t tell him I told you.” Jisung stood up and started counting bags of coffee again. “He’s trying to keep a low profile. Work here, earn some money, then find a new apartment. I’m not sure how long it’ll take, but don’t be surprised if he wants to work extra hours. I’d say just put him on the schedule and let that be the end of it.”

You nodded quietly. “No worries there. Ryujin and Jeongin have finals coming up, so I’ll probably give them the next few weeks off. They’re starting to look like raccoons.”

**

After two weeks of steady training, Hyunjin started showing up at 5:30am.

It made you nervous knowing a part-timer was getting to work before you did, so you tried to get there a little earlier. But every time he’d notice you’d get there before him, he’d just show up earlier. Can’t imagine how much of a pain his alarm must be to Jisung, the eternal night owl with caffeine-fueled insomnia.

Hyunjin set up the sandwich display as you turned on the espresso machines and grinders. This just became the routine. You’d set up the cafe in silence.

Today, however.

“Can I put on music?” Hyunjin suddenly spoke with his head still in the sandwich case.

You’d almost forgotten the sound of his voice at this point. “Um, yeah. Go for it.”

Hyunjin fumbled with his phone, and not a minute later, the soft chords of a guitar started to resonate throughout the empty cafe.

It wasn’t like you were constantly trying to figure him out except... you were. It was difficult to deny he was extremely good looking. Good proportions, clear skin. You had to just admit that his hair suited him very well, and every week it was a darker shade of brown which you always noticed. Every time you’d attempt to compliment him, he’d quietly say thank you, and that was the end of the conversation. You were a firm believer that a person’s taste in music revealed a lot about them, and finally, you were getting a hint of who exactly your silent part-timer really was.

“This is nice.”

Hyunjin peered up at you as if he anticipated another quiet morning. “You listen to this?”

“I’ve never heard it before, but yeah, I like similar stuff.”

He stood up, wiped down the glass display, and trailed off. The rest of the day was exactly how you expected it to be. Hyunjin’s playlist made for perfect cafe music, so it just continued on until he left at noon.

Jisung arrived just as the rush started. You slipped out of the cafe, ready to run errands.

(1 new message - unknown number)

“For (y/n)”

It was a link to a playlist, your name in the title. You slipped your headphones over your head, and as the music started to play, you realized Hyunjin had made a playlist for you.

Your chest suddenly felt warm. This things only happen in cheesy 90s teen movies. It wasn’t like you were perpetually single; of course, you’d dated before. 

No one has ever made you a playlist though.

Walking through the back streets back to your house, the errands were already long forgotten as Don’t leave me, My love by Colde filled your being. It changed your entire mood. It was the feeling of a sad, longing love. You’d known Hyunjin’s backstory for almost a month now and trained yourself to forget it entirely as it would’ve just made working with him uncomfortable. He was always so shut off, never speaking to you, hardly ever making eye contact. Yet listening to the music he chose to send in this playlist seemed more intimate than anything else.

You tugged at your collar. Now, it was just getting a little too hot.

**

Hyunjin was humming along to his music today.

You recognized the music as it played in the exact order it was in his playlist for you. Wonder if he knew you’d practically listened to it on a loop for the past 24 hours.

“Why don’t you ever take days off?”

You blinked. He’d never engaged with you this many days in a row. It was only day two, yet for some reason, it was already throwing you off.

“I don’t really do anything. And the other day manager quit a few months ago.” You went back to fumbling beans into the grinder for the drip of the day. “I just never got around to hiring someone else.”

“You don’t ever feel like doing something else?”

Again. He’s asking more questions.

“Like what?”

Hyunjin peered over the espresso bar. He was tall enough that he could rest his elbows on the machines and cradle his face in his hands. The silver rings on his delicate fingers were catching the sunrise.

“I dunno. When’s the last time you ate something someone else cooked for breakfast?”

“Someone else?”

Hyunjin just blinked, looking at you as if he was studying a new painting for the first time. The door swung open, and he backed away. Ryujin waved, finally looking more awake now that she was finished with school, and just like that, Hyunjin walked to the back.

The conversation didn’t continue.

**

“I’m sorry - you’re doing what?”

Jisung showed you a shiny new pin that read Team Lead on it. “Ryujin and Jeongin are done with school, so I think it’d be a good idea to give them a promotion. We’ll make new keys, and they can open the cafe. They already know what to do, and this way I can finally have a day off.”

“Wha-”

“And you, too, obviously.” Jisung paraded around the backroom.

This couldn’t be a coincidence. That conversation with Hyunjin only happened two days ago. But.... Well, they live together, but it wouldn’t take that much effort for Hyunjin to tell Jisung something and plant the idea in his head. Your friend is incredibly impressionable, so this shouldn’t be a surprise.

“Do you object?”

“Um. No.” You sighed. “This is just sudden. Ha. I don’t even remember what it’s like to have a morning off let alone an entire day off.”

“You’re telling me.” He sat down beside you and rested his head in your shoulder. “Have you been talking to Hyunjin by the way?”

“Meaning?”

“He asked about you.”

There you go again. Your chest suddenly got warm, that same feeling from the other day when you listened to the playlist.

“Just weird stuff like what we do when we hang out. I told him you and I only ever see each other here nowadays, so I didn’t really remember. I did tell him your mom used to make those pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream.” Jisung groaned. “I miss your mom’s cooking. Can we go back to high school when I wasn’t an adult?”

Ignoring the whining beside you, you just knew this couldn’t all be a coincidence.

**

It was your first day off, and something was already bothering you.

It almost made you cry - someone was knocking on your door. It was only 8am, and even though you’d subconsciously woken up at 4am, you were enjoying staying in the warmth of your bed for as long as you wanted to.

Peering through the peep hole, all you could see was a white hat. Whoever it was, they must have been looking at their phone.

“Who is it?” You called out.

“It’s Hyunjin.” The hat suddenly turned up, and you could suddenly see those dark brown locks.

The room was hot again. This can’t be happening. Not right now. You weren’t even wearing pants. You were the type who liked to sleep in an extra large hoodie and your hair in a bun. This isn’t a cute look.

“If you’re in your pajamas, I don’t really care.”

How did he know - 

“Um, give me two seconds.”

Running back to your bedroom, you grabbed a pair of denim shorts and brushed your hair. Even though you knew Hyunjin had already seen you without makeup before, for some reason this felt distinctly different. You splashed cold water on your face before lightly applying your BB cushion.

By the time you opened the door, Hyunjin did his best to look as bored as possible. You couldn’t even say anything before he walked right in, settling down in your kitchen. Pulling out a bag of strawberries and oranges, he worked in silence before calling out to you.

“Can you put on the playlist I made for you?”

You connected your phone to the speaker in the living room before joining him in the kitchen. “Can I help?”

He looked almost shocked. Handing you the bag of strawberries and a knife, he went back to mixing pancake batter. 

You both worked in silence before he suddenly spoke again.

“My ex never helped me cook.” He poured the batter into a pan. “I used to wake up really early, so she’d have breakfast before work.”

“That’s sweet.”

“I’d like to think so.” He smiled. It was the first time you’d ever really seen his smile. It was pure. His lips were tinted like he’d just eaten cherries. “I think I overdo it when it comes to relationships. Even now. I woke up early on my day off to cook breakfast for my boss.”

“Why?” You sliced the strawberries quietly. “I mean, you didn’t have to. I have food here.”

“Because I wanted to. Your stomach always grumbles when we open the cafe, and you never eat until around 10.”

You hid beneath your hair, cheeks burning. It almost didn’t seem appropriate for him to do this, but then you remembered you two practically spent every morning together. This wasn’t too different. It just wasn’t at the cafe.

“If you really feel that bad about it, cook dinner for me.” He chuckled, noticing the flush. “Only if you want to, of course.”

“N-No, I can do that.” You finished plating the strawberries.

Hyunjin finished the pancakes, and you two had small talk over your breakfast. Almost as if it was routine, he dried the dishes as you washed. Two hours had passed and you both found yourselves in silence again.

Sitting on your couch, Hyunjin sighed, pulling his hat down over his eyes. “Your couch is way more comfortable than Jisung’s.”

“Probably because I never use it.” You both giggled.

He repositioned himself to face you. As you mirrored him, legs folded up, he took a deep breath for speaking again.

“I know he told you what happened.”

“Oh, I -”

“It’s okay.” He smiled softly. “I don’t mind you knowing. And I appreciate that you didn’t pry. It was thoughtful of you to still treat me the same way.”

You placed your hand on his. “Hyunjin, I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Two seconds of silence passed before you could feel his thumb stroking yours. “Shit happens. It can happen to everyone. I’m okay, don’t worry.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Thinking about it more, you related to him even though you’d never considered it before.

“What are you thinking about?”

Unknowingly, you squeezed his hand, but he didn’t pull away.

“I’m just... sorry, I guess.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. I know how it feels. My luck hasn’t been the best either; that’s why it was just so easy to work everyday. I didn’t have to think about it.”

“Did someone hurt you?”

“It was a long time ago - “

“I want to know.” Hyunjin placed his hand on your head, patting you gently. “If you want to tell me of course.”

**

When did the sun start to set?

It was dark in your apartment, and Hyunjin was still there. Three movies and a million words later, you were still on the couch, Hyunjin’s head on your lap. Your fingers toyed with his hair.

“Jisung is gonna kill me.” He covered his eyes with his hand.

“Why? For missing your curfew?” You jested.

“No.” He sat up, facing you again. “I told him I wouldn’t move on just yet.”

Leaning in closer to you, the beauty mark beneath his eye was more visible than ever. He still smelled like strawberries and sugar. Those brown locks slipped over his eyes, messily. He smirked.

“You made it a little difficult for me.”

“Difficult?” You swallowed.

He moved closer, his hands resting on your thighs. “You’re just distracting.” His fingers squeezed ever so slightly. “I’ve just learned to look away whenever you talk to me.”

You shook your head. “Wait, I don’t understand.”

Laughing the hardest you’ve ever heard, Hyunjin grabbed your chin and angled your face towards him, your lips puckering from the position.

“I. Like. You.”

You really didn’t mean to gasp. It just made him laugh more though. If his other hand wasn’t on your thigh still, you would’ve stood up, but you just couldn’t move. He had you practically locked into facing him.

Hyunjin’s smile softened, dropping his hand into yours, fiddling with your fingers. “I’m sorry. I know this is really sudden. I’ve been out of my relationship for over a month, but I knew I was over it the first time Eunji and I broke up. My head was still foggy when I walked into the cafe that first morning, and I kept telling myself it was too soon. I tried to avoid it all, but I just really couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“Thinking about what?”

“You knew. You knew what I had just been through, and I didn’t want you to think I was being inconsiderate. So I waited.” He pulled his hands away slowly. “But if you don’t feel anything for me, I understand. I don’t want to pressure you into anything. You’re the first person who’s made me feel like this in a long time, and I couldn’t keep showing up in the morning without at least telling you.”

Hyunjin had never sounded so sincere. The silence took over, and you two sat on your couch for another minute or two before he stood up, taking your silence as an answer. He sighed, smiling again.

You stared at your hands, unconsciously running your nails over the warmth that lingered from him. It wasn’t like you’d never thought of it before. You knew he was good looking, but all those moments started coming back. The extra hours he worked, the days he’d handle difficult customers for you, and the sandwiches he’d share when you forgot to take a break. He’d been showing you he cared even if neither of you picked up on it.

Hyunjin placed his hat back on his head before heading towards the door. He looked at you one more time, still on the couch, before grabbing the knob.

You didn’t know what you were doing anymore.

He nearly took a step out when he felt a small tug on the hem of his shirt.

Your fist gripped onto him like you were afraid he’d leave and never come back. Hyunjin closed the door and stepped back inside, resting his back against the wall.

Screw it.

Placing your hands on his chest, you stood up on your tiptoes to reach him. Hyunjin steadied you, his grip on your hips. Those cherry lips met yours effortlessly. He sighed into the kiss, pulling you closer. His forehead rested against yours, his chest heaving.

“Thank you - “ You whispered onto his skin. “For taking care of me.”

He nodded, lips still hovering above yours. “I want to. Take care of you, I mean.”

You giggled.