#got7 soft

Grabbing your phone, you checked the time. Ten minutes past four. Oh no, you winced internally. You were going to be very late if you didn’t leave your house in the next fifteen minutes. As though an internal switch flipped on, you turned the shower to full blast and stepped inside, sucking in your teeth as the cold water splashed against your skin.

In eight minutes flat, you were tugging on your beat-up sneakers and dashing for the elevator in your only pair of clean, non-alcohol-stained jeans and a plain white t-shirt that you conveniently picked off the pile of dry clothes on your sofa. You jammed the down button a couple of times, all while checking the time on your phone.

“Shit,” You cursed under your breath. 4:19. You couldn’t wait any longer.

Throwing all caution to the wind, you sprinted down the fire escape and did not stop for a single breath until you reached the final destination: a charming little bakery across the road from your apartment.

Rushing to the bakery just before closing time had become a habit for you. Amidst the chaos of moving and finding your feet in this new city, the bakery and its never-ending stream of patrons were your source of stability. Not only was it less busy and crowded during the evening, but it was also much easier for you to snag a couple of good bargains in the form of randomly-packaged, discounted breads.

The fact that the cute baker was the last one in store and in charge of closing up was just an added bonus.

//

A high-pitched, annoying chime broke him out of his daze. With a groan, Yugyeom straightened his slumped figure and stretched his arms above his head, releasing a satisfied sigh as his backbone cracked.

It was late afternoon. The rays of sunshine splattered deep orange and gold as it flooded through the drawn, white lacey curtains, painting his grandfather’s bakery with calm and relief; a peaceful conclusion. The end of daylight was drawing near.

He wiped a stray trail of saliva off the corner of his mouth before sucking on a mint. Checking the clock that hang above rack upon empty rack which usually contained baked goods, his palms inexplicably grew clammy.

4:27, Yugyeom mused. He shook his head to clear his spiralling thoughts. Keep it together, dummy. Just because she came the past few days doesn’t mean that she’ll come today too. She has her own life, her own friends, maybe even a boyfri-

Oh?

Just as his mind was about to veer off course and crash into the thorny garden of unrequited love, Yugyeom caught sight of a blurry figure at the corner of his eyes. Intrigued, he stood up straight and watched as you appeared in front of the bakery’s double doors. For a few seconds, you simply clutched your knees and huffed and puffed. Yugyeom could barely stop the shit-eating grin that split across his face and had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to avoid looking like a fool.

Then, you did the unexpected. From the back pocket of your jeans, you pulled out your lip balm and applied it on your lips, using the bakery’s glass window as a mirror. At that, Yugyeom threw his head back in a hysterical fit of laughter.

It was hard for him to explain the feeling in his chest, really. The first time you walked through the doors of the bakery, eyes twinkling with pure wonder and amazement as you browsed the array of baked goods like how a girl would admire a display of diamond rings, he was screwed. You captivated his interest as you fumbled for the right number of coins to pay for your discounted breads, tongue stuck out and head tilted adorably while doing so. He gave you, the damsel in distress, a helping hand, by laying all your coins out on the counter and ordering them from lowest to highest value. Probably not the most helpful of gestures, but Yugyeom liked to tell himself that he was performing his civic duty by welcoming a visitor of Korea through non-verbal currency explanations and an introduction to the locals’ favourite breads, pastries and drinks. That evening, the two of you sat on the high table by the window, slowly savouring melon breads, injeolmi toasts, ang butter or red bean butter breads and an assortment of cream cheese breads. While the breads were wonderfully fluffy and the sweetness was at an acceptable level, Yugyeom instructed you to wash it down with an iced Americano.

Since then, the mere thought of the bakery, going to the bakery, its breads and pastries, its drinks and Yugyeom coated your insides with sweetness. Admittedly, the reason why you kept visiting the bakery was to create more memories with Yugyeom and ride the amazing sugar rush you felt whenever you were around him.

After rearranging your hair for the nth time, you bravely pushed open the doors and walked in at 4:29pm.

“Hello!” You called out in Korean as you waved at him, a wide smile plastered on your lips. There was an obvious language barrier (you with your kindergarten-level Korean and him with his Game of Thrones-standard of English), but it wasn’t obvious. The two of you came up with creative ways to break it down.

“Hi Y/N! Sit down. I’ll get it.” Yugyeom answered in English, emerging from behind the counter with his trusty English-Korean dictionary and a matcha latte he prepared in anticipation of your arrival. He walked towards you with an air of confidence, reminding you of a model in a fashion show despite wearing his typical slacks and white button-up, with sleeves rolled up and cross drop-earrings adorning his ears. Yugyeom quickly set the items down before pulling out a chair, nodding towards it to encourage you to sit.

You muffled a giggle at his gentlemanly actions, but complied, nonetheless. You glanced over to the boy, sipping on the creamy drink as he retrieved two large plates from the cake fridge. Sure, the assortment of cakes should have been the main attraction, but your eyes drifted and settled on the stern look of concentration on his face and his prominent collarbones peeking out of his shirt. Unbuttoned, you assumed, as he was going to be off work soon.

You were halfway through the drink when Yugyeom returned to the table. He noticed this and didn’t pass up the opportunity to tease you about it. “Is it really good?”

“Thirsty. I just woke up.” You admitted, cheeks heating up in slight embarrassment.

Yugyeom’s wholehearted laughter filled the entire bakery.

“H-hey! Bad boy… Mean…”

“No, I…” Yugyeom stifled another round of laughter as he tried to pull himself together. “Cute. You wake up, come to see me in bread house.”

“Not ‘bread house’, ‘bakery’.”

“Ah, thank you. Bakery.” He tested the word on his lips, getting used to the pronunciation. “Bakery…”

“What are these?”

Yugyeom handed you a small cake fork while taking a seat. “Here. This plate is for tarts, and this one is for cakes. The tarts have the same filling – custard. But we use different fruits, like strawberries, berries, grapes and peaches. Whatever’s in season, really. Strawberries and cherry tarts are really popular in winter. Try some!” He reverted back in Korean whenever he was explaining, which was a great opportunity for you to pick up new vocabulary.

It was also a fantastic opportunity to try delicious pastries. You rotated through the entire plate painted in shades of pinks and green, taking a bite of each tart. Yugyeom just sat there, head in his palms, and admired the slight changes in your expression whenever you tried a new flavour. As creepy as it sounds, watching you eat the food he prepared was gradually becoming his favourite pastime.

“Cherry! That one is the best! It’s…” You quickly reached for the dictionary, softly muttering to yourself as you thumbed through the pages. “Here, acid. Acid, not too sweet. The strawberry one too.” Your eyes crinkled at their edges as they met his intrigued orbs, proudly smiling at yourself for learning a new word today.

“The word you’re looking for is ‘acidity’. ‘Acid’ is for chemistry.”

“Acidity?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Yugyeom reached over, his huge palm caressing the top of your head before ruffling your hair. You pouted and feigned annoyance, all while your heart squeezed and pounded away in your chest.

“Hey…” You protested weakly.

Yugyeom’s hand retreated. He placed it on the table, right next to your smaller ones. The distance between your hands taunted him; tempted him to close the gap and intertwine your fingers with his. Honestly, Yugyeom wasn’t used to this; wasn’t used to feeling like his insides were going to explode. His mouth opened and closed several times as he pondered his next move, wondering whether it would overstep your boundaries.

But then you stared at him in anticipation with your beautiful brown orbs, innocent and confused, as your lips wrapped around the straw of your matcha latte. Your gaze asked him an unspoken question, urging him on.

Yugyeom dragged your chair closer his, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from you. He rested both of his palms on top of your knees, gaining your full attention. “I like…” Yugyeom paused, catching his bottom lip between his pearly whites as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards. “I like this time with you.”

The soft giggle was purely involuntary, you swore to him afterwards. Yet, as you watched his expression flicker into one of panic, you were quick to cast out his worries. “No, no! Don’t get me wrong. Did you mean, you like spending time with me?”

“Ah, I was trying to be romantic. Stupid English…” Yugyeom cursed under his breath in Korean, unaware that you were familiar with the word ‘romantic’ due to the hours you spent (wasted) binging Korean dramas. “Yes, I do.” He said while squeezing your kneecaps in affirmation.

You had to remind yourself time and time again to keep calm in the presence of this charming man and his magical hands. “Me too, Yugyeom. You’re my favourite time of the day.”