☆tiny harmonies☆

It’s been a few weeks since you started working at your new job all the way in Seoul, and things have been going according to plan.

Settle down in your new apartment, check.

Get along with your coworkers, check.

Live healthily every day. Check?

Everything went well, perfect to preference. There was, however, one anomaly you would have never expected to have occurred.

You love your job. Positioned so timely in the morning such that you have enough time to take a walk in the morning while the sun slowly climbs over the horizon. 

A fresh breather and a nice warm cup of coffee. 

Gosh, you loved your coffee, it’s something you basically couldn't live without. Maybe it was the Seoul air. Maybe it was just this shop. Coffee from this shop just hits the spot, that daily craving instantly fixed, like it was the cure to your everyday fatigue.

The air in the morning would typically be a little too chilly to your liking. You'd usually take a stroll in a comfortable hoodie, maybe the one at the top of the stack of clothes in your closet, and the usual sweatpants that you wear for everything. Be it workout, sleep, or simply casual wear.

On this day, you had your hands in your pockets as you walked to the store, hearing the sounds of birds chirping and soaring up above in the skies above you. It was comforting, really. The atmosphere was just splendid, your footsteps were almost rhythmic, and you just needed to take a deep breath in this moment. 

"Oh, crap — I'm sorry", a man said, panicked. He had bumped into you from behind while you were in your own headspace.

Your momentum had been broken, causing you to almost stumble forward into a faceplant. You caught yourself though, no thanks to this clumsy person.

He instinctively gripped your arms, steadying you, ensuring you regained your balance. 

"You good? Really sorry man, I really gotta go." he blurted out, before running away into the distance, turning the corner out of your sight. 

That was odd. And kind of rude. You stared into the space up ahead, dumbfounded, and stopped in your tracks. You had to take a second to process what had just happened.

That was a random guy, that just bumped into you, that just ran away in a flash. For a second, it seemed like he was trying to tell you to forget this little incident ever happened. 

“Weird guy.” you muttered to yourself. That man was about a head taller than you, and honestly…  kind of charming. For just a moment, you could almost feel the slight warmth he left on your arms. He didn't look Korean, and his manners weren't so bad. Maybe he had a reason for running off so abruptly, and that might have enticed you, just a little. Regardless, you went about your day and brushed the matter off as him being a stranger you'd probably never cross paths with again. 

But maybe, just maybe, you hoped you'd see him again.

You stepped into the coffee shop, once again taking in a deep breath of the freshly brewed coffee beans. Exactly just what you looked forward to every time. Slowly opening your eyes, you noticed the same man in the queue right in front of you. 

How anticlimactic. 

You briefly scanned his figure. He had dark brown waves in his hair, and he wore a black Adidas tracksuit. Thinking about it, that outfit couldn't never be your cup of tea, but hey, whatever floats his boat, right?

You tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, taking one side of his wired earpieces off to look at you. His eyes slightly widened, quickly pulling off the other earpiece to interact with you properly. 

"Ah, it's you. My bad about earlier..."

His head was slightly tilted to the side, looking at you as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He seemed to have recognised you, and he definitely did not take pride in bumping into you. His body actions didn’t say much, but his eyes told of his unsettlement. The way his eyes darted around, landing everywhere but you just so he’d avoid your gaze, made it seem like he was a little kid, shyly hiding behind a wall to hide away from facing the music of some horrifying consequence.

“It's alright, I suppose.” you muttered, in an attempt to soothe the tension between you two, like a tight rope ready to snap within the next few seconds. 

There was an odd silence that filled the air, accompanied by the busy chatter of the coffee shop. Your mind, on the other hand, was not so quiet, for you did have something to ask him. 

“Say, why were you in such a rush anyway?”

“Bro. Have you not seen how long the queues get at this time??” he says as he eyes the air behind you. 

You followed his gaze and turned around, to see about 8 more people lined up right after you, prompting you to swiftly turn back around and face him. 

“Yikes, definitely forgot about that.” your face scrunched up at your sudden realisation. 

“Well-”

“I hope you know you spoilt my morning peace.” you spouted. 

“Ah… right.”

The queue continued moving forward and the awkwardness continued to expand exponentially. The guy ahead of you — which you realised you hadn't gotten the name of — broke the silence by offering to pay for whichever drink you decided to have that morning. You agreed, choosing your usual. A nice warm vanilla latte. 

After all, how often is it that you get your favourite drink on the house?

You stood aside, watching the seemingly nice man pay for both his and your orders. You felt strangely warm inside, on a cold day in a new country, yet someone foreign to you unexpectedly kicking off the first entry on your diary of occurrences. 

You felt yourself drooling the slightest bit, looking forward to savouring the foam top of your latte.

Soon enough, your order was ready. One drink came steaming on the top in a white to-go paper cup, and the other came in a clear plastic cup filled with what seemed to be an iced americano. The man grabbed both beverages and made his way over to you, handing you the obviously warmer drink. 

“Thanks.” you shot him a smile.

“No worries.” he said, turning around to walk away while taking a sip out from the black plastic straw as his gaze left you. 

“Wait,” you called out.

He turned back to face you, one hand holding his earpiece already halfway to his ear to continue listening to his jam.

“I haven't gotten your name.”

“Vernon. My friends call me Vernon.”

“Ah, I see, okay.”

He shot you a look, eyes expectantly waiting for your answer.

“Right, um, yeah. My name is Y/N.”

He gave a small smile, seemingly satisfied with learning your name after you asked for his too. 

“See you around then.”

An interaction like this didn't seem so awkward for once, and something so normal as meeting someone new, felt awfully deep for the first time. Or maybe it was just how… nonchalant he perceived to be. Nevertheless, you did hope to see him around soon. You thought he was quite an interesting dude. 

A new day arrived as you opened your eyes, drunk on sleep. The smell of the morning air whiffing into your room through your open window reminded you of the incoming responsibilities in the later part of day, which you formed some sort of dread to, like any other normal person. 

Reluctantly, you got up with a sigh, slapping both sides of your face to further wake yourself up more. 

Upon reaching the cafe, the same one you visit every day, you were pleasantly greeted with a short queue of only two people ahead of you. Upon this sight, the memory of the previous day — the queue suddenly getting long after you joined it — poked into your head, cueing you to step into the queue like the flash. 

You ordered your regular, a simple hot vanilla latte in a to-go cup. The cashier gave you a quick smile, which you took as a gesture of just being nice. Her eyes did shift to the cafe space behind you, and you figured it was the people behind you that were shuffling into the shop, meaning the impending waves of orders that she had to take after yours. You shrugged it off, thinking it was just normal cashier behaviour.

When you got your order, you took a small sip, one that was quite satisfactory. Just the way you liked it. Creamy, accompanied with a tinge of sweetness. 

In the following second, you spotted Vernon sitting by the window alone with one cup of ice americano and another cup with just ice, obviously drunk from and finished, condensation just rolling down the surface while scrolling through his phone absentmindedly. Again, with him wearing the same Adidas tracksuit, you were starting to wonder if he had proper hygiene or if he had like, thirteen duplicates in his wardrobe. You did however remember him having a fresh woody scent when he bumped into you the first time, so you mentally concluded the case to be the latter.

Funny enough, you only noticed him after you had gotten your drink, and inferring from the empty cup, he was definitely here before you even stepped into the shop. 

You were then hit with the sudden realisation of why the cashier smiled at you. Vernon's here, and she was the same worker that served you two the day before as well. Your mouth opened to form an ‘o’ shape, puckering your lips as a reaction to your own realisation. 

Anyway, seeing him sit alone like that clicked something in you to walk over and sit with him, as if drawn in by an invisible force of the beginning of a niche storyline.

“Hey.”

You were met with silence from the figure in front of you. You blinked once. And twice. “Heyyyyy.”.

Again. Met with silence. The woman sitting at the table next to him had already turned her gaze towards this scene you found yourself in the middle of.

“Vernon, right?” you swear you felt your ears heat up with the awkwardness, with the likeliness that this man might not be who you thought it was at all.

Only at the mention of his name was then when he lifted his head to look at you. You scanned his face clearer, confirming your suspicions of the identity of the man.

“Oh... hey, Y/N.” you heaved a sigh of relief and plopped down in the seat in front of him, the same way you plopped your drink down on the table. You set off a series of questions about what just happened in the past thirty seconds.

“Do you only answer people when your name is involved???” you shot, eyes widening in annoyance. “What–”

“Or did you forget me already???”

“Well–”“That's so embarrassing, dude.”  you lifted your hand with an accusatory sass, which then gripped your hair. Your hands then travelled down to cover your face, compassing the whole ‘dig a hole to hide in’ saying.

“Y/N-”

“Like dude, it took me three tries to wake you up from whatever daydream you were in literally-”

“Y/N.”

You opened up your hand curtains, looking at him like a sheep that got stripped entirely of its wool.

“Looks like we aren’t so different afterall.” he teased, chuckling. You frowned and pouted, realising you unintentionally mirrored his behaviour that commenced this whole frenzy in the first place. 

“We literally just met yesterday, would I have recognised you instantly?” he reasoned with this chill tone, seemingly having no effect from your prior chaos.

It took a few moments before you cooled down and soon enough, you two warmed up to each other. The both of you started to crack jokes and share random occurrences in your lives that happened lately. 

“And this bird, had the freaking AUDACITY to POOP on my head– LIKE, I JUST WASHED IT BEFORE I WENT OUT????”

You threw your arms up in the air, dramatically reenacting your reaction then while cursing the bird out loud even when you did back then, just verbally to Vernon this time.

He shared his own side of experiences, each one having your laugh build up like a ticking time bomb. 

“So, get this. My friend chased this other friend with a guitar, threatening to attack him for some stupid reason,” he said, holding back his laughter. “And then, when that friend got cornered, the guitar LITERALLY went airborne, he squatted down SO dramatically like it was the end of his life–” 

“Pfft.” 

“HAHAHAHAHA”

You let the balloon of laughter burst, and your manic laughter set off Vernon's laughter too like a chain reaction. Both of you were left in a fit of laughter, like two crazed hyenas, attracting the attention of the woman in the next table again. 

But that was the least of your concerns. You were having the time of your life with this guy, cracking jokes after. Time passed and unfortunately you had to leave for work. You said your goodbyes to Vernon, but that wasn't the end of it.

This new routine started to happen daily, every weekday at least. He was titled ‘daily morning coffee buddy’ in your books, and he lived up to the title for the next few weeks, and then the weekend giving you more time to bond, given that you sometimes only saw him one out of the two days. 

At some point, he started to order your drink before you even arrived. You'd find your latte steaming, the cup sat across his own beverage, like how you sat across him every day. It had started to become a habit for him. And so did it for you. You'd always step into the shop, expectantly seeing him sat at the same table every time, your drink always steaming. When you felt like you needed a change of a drink, and you told him the day before, the next you’d find that drink already sat across his never-changing iced americano. His fashion sense seemingly started getting better too. It wasn't just tracksuits anymore, and it looked like he was putting in more effort in his outfit choices too.

You’d always feel this flutter in your heart when you saw him there. 

The following weeks however, he didn’t show up daily. There were some inconsistencies but you were still seeing him in the cafe often. It was mainly one to two day intervals though.

You understood, he has a life too, he can’t be there every morning to be your playdate. Right. You were easily convinced by your own reasoning, so you accepted he wouldn't be there every single day. 

One of the days, just like any other day after his absence streak, it was like normal, you going through the mental archives of experiences, trying to remember which ones you hadn't told Vernon yet, recounting them in a quick second before sharing it to him. You caught sight of his face flashing with worry, but you didn't pay much mind to it. 

Everyone has their personal struggles after all.

You two were cracking around as usual when your eyes caught sight of some twinkling in front of you. Then, you noticed.

His face was lit up, his eyes squinted from smiling, and his smile. His smile was so… cute. It was the way his lips curved up, with his teeth showing, it made his mouth form a heart shape.

“Woah.” you muttered under your breath. 

This was supposed to be a normal and frequent sight to you, something that never catches your attention. So why now? But you were mesmerised, to say the least. 

The image of Vernon in this moment captured through your two bare eyeballs was somehow instantly framed up in your head, like a museum piece displayed in its full glory. You were viewing this picture through your eyes in person, but everything felt unreal. 

Not sure if it meant you felt something or what, or well, you didn't know. 

You swore everything played in slow motion through your peripheral vision. The people passing by outside walked slower, and the chatter in the cafe vaguely got tuned out.  Your mouth went dry, the only signs you knew you were still alive was how your heart was palpitating to the point you could hear it, and the way your breathing became more and more erratic. 

Vernon's hand came up to wave in your face. 

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” 

You blinked rapidly, snapping back to reality.

“Oh, right yeah. Um… yeah.” you blurted out. 

“Caught in a trance or what? You good??" Vernon questioned, face painted with concern, head tilting to his left by a little.

“Oh um, yeah I’m uh… fine yeah.” you proceeded to scold yourself internally, letting out a variety of cuss words in a continuous train of thought.

Out of habit, you looked at your phone to check the time. 

“Shoot, look at the time! I almost forgot I had work, I needa go.” 

Vernon almost looked weirded out, or taken by surprise at least. The smirk he wore on his face previously had dropped somewhere on the ground. He tried to say something though, before getting cut off by you. 

“Yeah um, catch you soon, yeah?”

You stood up, chair screeching and grabbed your things in a rush, partly because you’re running off schedule and partly to escape the awkwardness you caused, again, before you can repeat it again. 

Before leaving, however, Vernon suddenly grabbed your wrist. 

“Y/N.”

You turned back to look at him, still sat in place, looking up to meet your gaze, his vulnerability almost showing. 

“I’m…” he hesitated. 

He looked like he wanted to say something, but it seemed like he had a change of mind. 

“When will I see you again?” 

You froze, eyes flickering around, consciously noting your palms getting sweaty. You looked at his face, pretty much unreadable, but it was definitely a softer expression. His eyes were locked on you, his lips parted, anticipating your reply. The grip he had on your wrist wasn't too tight, but it conveyed the message that he indulged your presence. With every passing moment that you delayed a reply, you could see Vernon's facade slowly cracking. 

“Soon? As always? What are you on?” you smiled awkwardly, hoping he’d let go of your hand before you had to shake him off. You were very much confused.“Alright,” he said, looking defeated. His grip on your wrist loosened, to which you took the chance to snatch your hand away and usher words of farewell, quickly. You stepped out of the cafe, hit by the warm sunlight and bitten by the cold breeze. It somehow felt… colder.

Vernon's POV

I gripped onto her hand. “Y/N.”

She turned to look at me, eyes shuttering in confusion. This is my chance, right?

“I'm…” I hesitated. I needed to say it. 

Keep me here a little longer, please?

“When will I see you again?” 

What? What was that? That was not what I wanted to say. She tilted her head, innocently telling me that we’d meet soon, probably like any other day. But I failed to open my mouth to say the words. 

“Alright.”

My hand fell onto the table with a soft thud as I let go of her, watching her leave swiftly, away.

“Soon… huh?” 

I watched the hand that once contained the warmth of her wrist rest in my other hand, trembling in the slightest bit. 

“Shit.” I drawled, as I raised my hands that now gripped my hair. I don't know what has gotten into me, but she looked… different. Her face glowed, as she beamed with the cutest smile I've ever seen. She seemed happier today too.

The flashbacks of her rambles played in my head. Each meeting we had flashed in my mind, each one playing like a cd slotted into a cd player, just like a movie. 

“You must be a fucking idiot.” I spiraled into a series of self-criticism. “You couldn’t even tell her that you’re leaving. You’re so fucking stupid, you literally had the chance.” Neverending thoughts passed, the grip of my hair growing tighter with the tension of regret that started to bloom inside. 

“I don’t… I don’t even know when I’m coming back…”

I stood up with the same screech of the chair to rush out to find her. I looked left. I looked right. I turned around in circles like I was a little kid again.

She wasn't there. 

“Fuck.” I didn't get to tell her. I didn't get to say. The words that now went unheard. 

“I like you, Y/N.” 

Y/N's pov

y/n’s pov

The next day, the air felt colder. You supposed it was the pre-monsoon season breeze, and you resorted to looking forward to the warmth of the cafe, from your latte, the buzzing crowd, the heater, and maybe Vernon?

Stepping in with the bell of the door ringing as you opened it, you scanned the cafe surroundings. There was no Vernon in sight. It’s probably one of his absent streaks again. You shrugged it off, thinking you’d see him soon enough anyway, ordering your usual, and leaving the cafe without a second thought. 

The next day, you didn’t see him again. 

Same reasoning, probably some personal matters and plus, it was only the second day of his absence streak. 

By the third day? You were sitting at the same seat, waiting for Vernon to appear. Every time the doorbell rang, your head turned to look at each individual that came in. But none of them was Vernon. 

Vernon usually comes in after the second day of his absence though…

You reasoned with yourself once again, maybe he’s just busy, a third day means nothing. Or so you thought. 

By the fourth day, things started to feel off. You sat at the seat, and each ring of the door started to cause you headaches. With the frequency of your head pivoting up and down, you settled on staring at the door, shifting in and out of a daze. This kept up, until you lost track of time and went far off schedule, which resulted in you being late for work. 

On the fifth day, you were starting to lose hope. 

The sixth? You felt like it was because you couldn't stay when he gripped your wrist. You also realised he never ever arrived after you in the morning. 

The seventh? The eighth? All the same. 

The ninth, you sat in the cafe, thinking maybe he’d changed his schedule to afternoon coffee runs? The vanilla latte you held in your hands didn't feel right. There was no warmth, no company. Just vast emptiness in the cup, and all that remained was just the echo of your laughs. Sitting in the same seat for almost the whole day, waiting for Vernon to show up. It really felt like a lost cause. 

You couldn’t believe yourself. 

You start liking someone, and then they just leave you like that? He wasn’t not showing up anymore. You tried so hard not to lose hope, but at this rate? Hope was barely even there anymore. Hope was non-existent. 

Did he even know you liked him anyway? What was the point? All this wasted time? For what? Aimlessly waiting around and finding reasons to stay? 

Pathetic. 

You felt like this meant nothing. You got your hopes up, just to be let down like this? You took the last sip of your latte — which had already gone cold, staining your tongue with a sickening sweetness — before leaving the cafe, not even looking back once.

The next few days, you stopped going to the cafe. It felt like a waste of your time and your effort. You laid in bed, awfully hesitant to even get up, wondering why none of you ever thought to exchange contacts. Were you just that complacent? Taking his presence for granted? As if you’d continue seeing him every day? 

The cafe visits didn't feel right, or the same anymore. It wasn't the latte, it wasn’t the people, it wasn’t even Vernon. It felt like it was probably your fault. For even believing someone like Vernon would keep happily being your ‘daily morning coffee buddy’. 

How foolish you must be.

As if nothing happened, I told myself that it was all just a dream. When I closed my eyes and opened them again, I hoped it would be a morning where I would wake up feeling relieved. 

If I could go back in time, warm you rather than roughness, would you send me a call? 

We’re not done yet, I'm holding on to the end of a small thread. You left me struggling but I miss you even though I don't want to see you. 

Even though I hate you, I miss you.

I don't know myself either.

– Woozi, 2018

You found yourself shattered in pieces, thinking of the him that left without a single goodbye. Each piece of yourself held onto memories of you and him in that very cafe, and they haunted you. 

You woke up in cold sweat every night. These moments once brought you joy, but now they’re nothing but nightmares. 

You would always see the back of his head, never turning to look at your face. Sometimes, you would see his back facing towards you as he walked away from you, and if you so as even tried running after him, he would just fade away. Like a shadow, like a figure that you could see but never touch. 

You weren't one to run from responsibilities, so you continued showing up to work though your attendance and work became sloppy. Even your colleagues got worried, and with each time you did show up to work, you looked… awful, to say the least. They picked up on your pale appearance, and dark eye bags. It was difficult for you. Horrible. Utterly terrible. But you were still trying to find ways to forgive yourself, maybe Vernon was too. 

Your coworkers never asked you what happened, but they provided constant support. Encouragement, and care that made you feel okay. Like it’s just one of those days where you’re sitting in a field of grass and flowers, swarmed with butterflies and surrounded by comfortable warmth.

“Y/N, come eat lunch with us!”

“Y/N, ____’s wife made you a bento!”

“Y/N, let’s go out for a drink~”

“Y/N!”

They’d always bring you around, making sure you always had company, ensuring you were eating well, giving you gifts and food and drinks, essentially encouraging you out of your slump. But the way they called your name, it just wasn’t the same as he did.

Slowly but surely, you found yourself gaining the energy to get back on your two feet. Like a snail, you wiggled out of your hiding shell, finding the comfort to continue on your journey. You weren't alone, and you knew that. They made sure you knew. 

Three months later, you let go of the hurt you were consumed by, and things took a turn for the better. Despite not being able to find the same love for vanilla latte again, but the bitter memories that once floated on the surface, was replaced with airy foam that assured you that not everything negative that occurs is your fault, and you should find room for forgiveness. The thousands of bubbles that made up the foam represented the thousands of problems that could revolve around someone's life, and one sip would make all simultaneously pop. 

It honestly took a lot of courage for you to start returning to the cafe. The cashier had changed by then, but you didn't think about having your regular order that day. You wanted to try something new. maybe something familiar?

“One iced americano, to go, please.” you said, with a hint of uncertainty. The new cashier flawlessly took your order with no hesitation, and you had your drink in no time. 

Before you left the cafe, however. you heard a familiar voice. 

“Y/N?” 

You froze in your steps. Maybe you heard things wrong. You were hoping it wasn't who you thought it was. but you knew it was. You were afraid that if you confirmed it, it’d disappear again. Just like every other time.

The voice called out again. It was more firm this time. 

“Y/N.”

You took a big gulp of saliva. Nervous, you shifted your line of vision towards the direction the voice came from. 

It was him. Vernon. 

Your drink almost slipped from your hand but you gripped onto it. 

How did he even miraculously appear right when you did?

Regardless, without showing any sign of fear on your face, you fully turned your head and body. You stared at him, unsure whether to face him again or walk away. If you walked towards him, what if he fades away again? That can’t physically happen right? The line between your dreams and reality was a blur. But something made you realise it really was real. 

You weren't seeing the back of his head anymore. It was his face. The front of it. The entirety of him. 

Your eyes scanned each detail of him. his slightly darker undereyes, a very much different haircut; a buzzcut. He was in a sweatshirt, from what you could see. Sleeves rolled up, and his thumbs were fiddling with each other. You almost didn't recognise him. 

The cup that sat across him, it wasn’t a plastic cup of iced coffee. From the steam and slightly ruined foam top, it was evident to you. A vanilla latte. 

That.

That was an unusual change. It was awfully coincidental that you also ordered his usual. Maybe you both took a leaf out of each other's books that day? But really, there wasn't much to it, you wanted to see what was the taste of his coffee on your own tongue. 

How did he enjoy iced americano? Was it like how you used to enjoy your vanilla latte? Did it provide the same warm feeling you felt every time you held the cup, the mellowness that settled on your tongue, and the way it made the emptiness disappear? 

Your body grew slightly weaker with every second that passed by, every second that his gaze lingered on you. But you had to face it. Face him. Confirm he’s really here again. Not just some fucked up dream or another illusion to kick you into a ditch. 

You took a step. And another. You reached the table he sat at, setting your drink right opposite him.

He doesn’t say a word. 

"What are you doing here?" you wanted to know. You wanted to know so bad. Why today? Why only now? Months of no contact and no-shows and suddenly today’s the day he appears. 

He hesitated. 

"I don't know. I was maybe hoping you would be here today, and well," he said with a collected composure, with the same nonchalance he did the first time the two of you met. 

“Seems like the stars have granted me my wish.”

Judging by the way his coffee was still somewhat steaming, his timing really wasn't that bad after all. 

“I can't believe you can even joke right now.” you retorted. It’s true, how could he? He full-on disappeared for months, you thought he should basically be titled “trauma man” now. 

“I know.”

“You… What's with the latte? A new change?”

“Do you think I have forgotten?” he chuckled. 

“What-” 

“I'm sorry, Y/N.”

“Vernon-”

“I know sorry doesn't fix things, but I want you to know I mean it.”

“How-” 

“Y/N, I need you to let me explain.”

You kept getting cut off, and you weren’t exactly okay with it. Despite that, you stopped talking just to hear what he had to say just so it didn't become a cycle of interruption and accusations. 

“First off, I apologize for the person I am. What kind of person forms something and leaves right after? I’m sorry to have never tried to stay in contact, that I never told you before I left, all because I was a coward.” He was still fidgeting with his hands, now looking down, avoiding any eye contact with you. 

“Secondly,” he gulped. “I apologise for hurting you.”

Your eyes widened, looking at his face. You didn't think he’d apologise for that. You didn't even know you needed an apology for that. You deserved it, yes, but you were oblivious to the need for it. You felt a rip in your heart, like something reopened up right at the seams. 

You gripped onto his hands. To stop him from all the nervous fiddling. You were looking intently into his eyes when he raised his head in shock from the sudden contact. His gaze finally met yours and well, they locked in place. 

He continued his speech. “I have hurt you, and that is mine to blame.” 

With each sentence he spoke, his hands gripped yours tighter. Not too tight, but tight enough to let you know he was sincere about it. A faint warmth settled inside you, as each reasoning had him inching closer to your forgiveness. 

Unknowingly, a tear left your eye. You didn't feel it, but he saw it. He raised one hand to your face, delicately wiping off the tear with the back of his finger. Through blurry eyes, you could see the remorse looking at you through the window of his eyes. The guilty pout that protruded from his face had you succumb to the betrayal of the calm composure you were pretending to uphold. The continuous tears that flowed from your eyes had him panic as he let go of your hands to rummage through his pockets for a tissue packet, taking one sheet to gently dab your salty tears away. You wouldn’t want salty coffee after all, right?

You were at a loss, was your heart breaking or was it warm? You worked so hard to let go and this happens so unexpectedly. Either way, his remorse turned into concern, with this being the very first time your raw emotions scattered in front of him. It seemed like he was picking up the broken pieces one by one, attempting to fix something that wasn't even entirely his fault. 

You already did forgive him in your head, but this time, he was seeking forgiveness in your heart. 

“Lastly, my explanation.” he said, voice steady as his hands held yours. 

Your eyes remained glossy as you stared at him through what you felt like was the window of Rapunzel's tower. Helpless, but still in control of your own life. When both of you looked into each other’s eyes, it felt like your souls touched, fingers interlacing.

“The reason why I disappeared. My best friend fell critically ill and well,” he hesitated again, eyes flashing with hurt, gaze averting. “He didn't have much time to live.”

You were at a loss for words, as the words you previously said echoed through your mind again. 

Everyone has their personal struggles after all.

He continued, thumb caressing your hand. "He's been with me since birth, and well, he only had so little time left to live. I spent those months with him to cherish those last few moments. Otherwise," he paused. 

He looked up at you again, "I wouldn't know how to face myself anymore.” 

“I grieved, but I also knew I couldn't leave you for long. I don't know what you’ve been through, but I’d hate to let it continue.” he started choking on his words, but carried on so as to let you know the full truth. 

“That day, the last day we met. I wanted to tell you. But I was a coward. I couldn't get the right words out. I left you hanging. I chased after you out of the cafe, but you were gone. I… I didn't know what to do.”

Both of you were trembling in each other's hands by then. He not only was in pain, but he was still thinking of you. You weren't the only one suffering. 

You raised a hand to his cheek and stroked your thumb against his face. You acknowledged his pain and as did he. He was vulnerable, as much as you were. Like two peas in a pod. At that point, both of you probably had tears in your coffees. A little gross, but at that moment, who cares?

You held his face with both hands, sniffling and smiling through your tears. 

“Vernon,"

"I forgive you.”

Time skip, a month later.

You and Vernon were walking in a park, autumn leaves drifting through the breezy air with a hint of cinnamon whiffing through it, which probably was coming from your pumpkin spice latte. 

“Hey, Hansol. Why’d you tell me your name was Vernon?”

“Vernon is my name, but Hansol is what special people in my life call me. My mom, my dad, and my best friend.”

You paused in your tracks and turned to him. You looked up at him. Blinked once, and twice. Many times. 

“Me???” you pointed to yourself. “Special person????” 

He didn't say anything, only smiling at you. Instead, he got down on one knee, he popped out what seemed to be a promise ring. 

You stood rooted in shock, frozen, and eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. 

Jaw. 

Dropped. 

“Y/N, will you let me be your boyfriend?” 

His ears went pinkish, and his hands were trembling while holding the ring. He was looking at you sheepishly, like the way he did when you two first met, afraid of the unlikely rejection. 

“Hansol…” you faked disappointment on your voice, tone wanting to juke him into believing the negative. 

For a moment, you saw his face turn white. 

“Yes! Yes, yes, and yes a million times, YES!” 

His eyes lit up as he sprung up from his kneeling position from excitement. 

He was, very evidently, enthusiastic. He looked like he was ready to lift you up and spin you around, but with a hot drink in your hand, that would very much be a horrible mistake. 

His face was still frozen in that same heart shaped smile as he slipped the ring onto your finger. Your heart felt warm, and you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 

He pulled you into a hug, holding you in his arms, so gentle his touch was like the wisp of a feather. Into your ear, he whispered, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Hansol, maybe we really do have one of those super niche stories.” you giggled. 

You snuggled up in his warm embrace, feeling so refreshed and confident, as you opened up a new page in your book, ready to start afresh with Vernon, a new chapter together. 

“what once floated on the surface of their coffee were jokes, what remained were bittersweet moments. what really mattered though, was about you.”