#i jus had a dumb idea and scribbled this out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bdamanlover4ever · 4 years ago

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Okay but...BakuDeku fluffy fanfic idea, where Katsuki has always been struggling in school and Izuku one day picks up on it. 😶It would be told in parts because Izuku picks up on it over time, it’s probably set between the end of season 3 and start of season 4?

Part 1

“I hope you all are paying attention.” Mr. Aizawa stopped writing on the board. “I’m only going to say this once.” He tapped the chalk over the word: report. “Your midterm report should be over how your favorite hero operates and how you can learn from their actions to create your own rescue style.”

Izuku stopped tapping his pencil against his notebook. His brain slowly drifting back to reality—the classroom, his desk, his backpack. He had been already thinking of a way to prove his fighting style. Maybe if he rewatched a few of All Might’s old rescue scenes.

“Also I must stress this will be a book report.” Mr. Aizawa said.

The class erupted in a few groans and complaints.

“Don’t act like that. You’re all very capable of writing an four page report. If you’re not capable then you’ll wish you were by the time I finish calling home.”

Denki raised his hand. “Um, so...can the paper be double space?”

“Double spaced, 12 sized front.”

Izuku scribbled a few ideas down. He’d go by the library to check out some books. His pencil stopped moving to the sound of Katsuki cursing under his breath.

“Damn it.” Katsuki said.

Izuku couldn’t help but turn towards his direction. As always there were no notebooks or pencils on Katsuki’s desk. An empty space. Not even a textbook open to the correct page.

Lazy—as some people would call it.

But it wasn’t like Katsuki wasn’t smart. He somehow managed to understand everything without taking notes.

A part of Izuku admired that.

“I already turned off my recording.” Katsuki pulled his phone from his pocket and slipped it between his legs as if to hide it from the teacher.

“This is a very important report. It will be a midterm grade that will make or break some of you.” Mr. Aizawa placed down the chalk.

“Can we really call this hero work?” Mina asked.

“Everything is hero work. Even the books.”

Izuku found himself nodding. There were multiple things that went into being a good hero. Charging in blindly without a strategy might let you get lucky and save a few people due to a stroke of luck, but a good hero always has a way to save everyone. He wrote in big letters: PLANNING.

“What’s so interesting?” Katsuki asked.

Izuku blinked.

“Ya nodding your head over there so much.”

“I’m just brainstorming over my report.”

“Why do you keep glancing in my direction, then?”

“I ju-just zone out.” Izuku didn’t think that Kacchan ever noticed him in class. How long had Kacchan been watching him? He took an uneasy breath. Now that he knew Kacchan was watching, he could feel it. Just focus back on the teacher. Don’t worry about him. Don’t—

“Ignoring me?” Katsuki rolled his eyes. “What a joke.”

“Again some of you SHOULD be taking this seriously.” Mr. Aizawa glanced over in Izuku and Katsuki’s direction.

Izuku lowered his head and picked up his pencil to scribble down some more ideas. Plan? Execution? Dealing with a hostage situation. Those were good places to start.

Part 2

The library was old in comparison to the rest of the city. Sure, the old wooden and brass door had been replaced by automatic doors, and all the renovations had fixed up the inside, but the old smell never left. Maybe it was the smell of books? The books in this library dated back decades.

Izuku walked past the shelves, each one filled with knowledge and epic battles that transcended through time. The old walls were brightened with murals of heroes and stained glass windows give it an old-fashioned elegance. He hugged his book close to his chest, eyes focused on the backpack hanging off the back of the seat.

“Isn’t that like a 6th grade level book?”

“Shut up, man. No, it’s not.”

Izuku overheard two familiar voices whispering among themselves—Kirishima and Katsuki. He figured they must be trying to choose a book to write their report on as well. He sat down at the table, placing his newly discovered book next to two others and his notebook. He opened up the book to a chapter titled: How to Identify: High Priority Rescues in a Hostage situation.

The topic wasn’t one he particularly agreed with. He felt like everyone deserved to be saved, but if there was a high risk situation where not everyone could be…

“It is. Hey, isn’t that Izuku?”

Izuku looked up to see Kirishima waving at him. He waved back.

“Look at this.” Kirishima ripped a book from the shelf and pointed at it. He walked over to Izuku’s table.

“Don’t tell h—“ Katsuki got hushed by an angry passerby. He grit his teeth, his right hand clenched in a fist.

Izuku read the book title, The Adventures Of All Might And Friends.

“Check it. There are like pictures on almost every page.” Kirmisha flipped through the book. “Tell him there is no way he can write a good book report with this.”

“Shut your shitty mouth!” Katsuki snatched the book back and slammed it closed. “I do whatever the fuck I want and my grade is going to be good as fuck!” He tucked the book under his right arm as if to hide the childish cover.

The librarian looked at the three of them harshly.

“Sorry.” Izuku whispered.

“Mr. Aizawa said the report had to be 4 pages. I’m not trying to piss you off, just chill and listen for a second.” Kirishima lowered his voice. “Look at Izuku’s book. It is about 300 pages and—“

“Deku is the last person I want to look to for anything.” Katsuki put his hand on Izuku’s face to push him to the side. “I’ll never be that desperate.” He roughly bumped past Kirishima.

Izuku lifted his hand from holding his place in the book.

“You’re both doing All Might.” Kirishima must have noticed the books on his table. “You should get together and swap notes or something.”

Izuku sighed. It would be nice if he could collaborate with Kacchan. If Kacchan wasn’t always being…”It’s a nice thought I guess.” Even though it was true, Kacchan would get nowhere using a childish picture book. He wasn’t even sure anything in that book was researchable.

“You have his number, right?” Kirishima asked.

“No.” Izuku said. Why would he have Kacchan’s number? They might have been childhood friends but never had they once exchanged contact info.

“I’ll give it to you.” Kirishima pulled out his cellphone. “Text him. You always have this weird effect that pushes Katsuki to do his best.”

“I do?”

“Yeah. Ah, maybe I used the wrong word. It’s not weird. It’s a good thing actually. Katsuki always gets hyped up about you.”

“Hyped up or aggressive?” Izuku pulled out his phone. He didn’t think Kacchan thought that hard about their interactions.

“That’s just his way of respect.” Kirishima grinned.

Izuku would really like to believe that.

Part 3

The walls in the dorm were paper thin. Everyone could hear everything. Izuku could constantly hear the people above him and below him. Either they were goofing off or talking loudly, their voices carried. It was as the saying goes, the walls have ears.

Izuku didn’t try to overhear gossip, but it happened sometimes. Even now, when he was walking through the common area. He heard some yelling and shouting. It encouraged his feet to move a bit faster. Today had been a long day, he spent most of it trying to write the first two pages of his report. Not how he wanted to spend his Saturday. He turned the corner to reach his dorm room. The sound of footsteps closed in on him. Then a sharp pain forced his shoulders back as the weight on his back shifted. One second he was facing the door, the next he was staring into enraged red eyes.

“Kacchan?” Izuku croaked.

Everything had happened so suddenly, he thought a villain had broken in and attacked.

“They’re talking shit about me, aren’t they?” Katsuki shoved the paper in Izuku’s face.

“Eh?” Izuku jerked his head back.

“Answer the question, shitty nerd!”

“I wasn’t really focused on...on...hear them. Why are you asking me?”

“Because they were laughing at this. I’m not a fucking dumb ass, I can tell that’s a poorly drawn picture of me.” Katsuki pointed at the stick figure with explosions around them.

“Oh—oh…okay?” Izuku took the paper. He still didn’t understand what Katsuki wanted from him. Some kind of confirmation? The wrinkled paper had a stick figure and the words: Kiss Ass.

Katsuki wrinkled his brow. His mouth made a tutting sound as if dissatisfied, “You’re such a freaking, Deku.”

His eyes shifted, as if scanning over the paper. “This is all shitty hairs fault. He was so loud in that library everyone probably knows…”

Izuku held the paper out.

“Don’t give me that garbage back! What the hell am I going to do with it?”

“Report it.”

“So they did write some mean shit about me?” Katsuki created a few explosions in his palms. His already pissed expression seemed to darken. “I’m going to kill them!” He released his iron grip on Izuku’s shoulder and grabbed the paper.

Izuku felt his heart race as Katsuki turned his back on him. Had Kacchan come to him because he was the only person in their class dorms? No. He was sure he heard Denki in here. Did that mean…

“Kacchan!”

“What?” Katsuki paused. He didn’t face Izuku or make eye contact. His one word response was blunt and straightforward.

It was so blunt it made Izuku feel a bit stupid.

He blinked twice. Why had he actually tried to say anything?

“I don’t like my time being wasted, nerd.”

“Then you could have just kept walking and ignored me, but you didn’t!” Izuku said.

Katsuki slowly turned his head to face him. “Guess I’m stupid for always making time for you.”

Izuku felt like he’d gotten punched in his chest. The oxygen fled his lungs and he couldn’t breathe for a few seconds.

“Be careful.” Katsuki said. It looked like a smug smirk tugged on the corner of his lips. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked forward. “About wasting my time on nonsense.”

Part 4

The bell for the end of the school day couldn’t have come sooner. Izuku closed his notebook and began to gather his things. He could hear the chatter among his classmates as they left out the door. Most of them were talking about the latest tv shows or gossip. It was a good change of pace compared to all the hectic things happening.

Uraraka’s skirt brushed against his desk, “Hey, Izuku. How’s your report doing?”

“It’s going.” Izuku began putting his stuff in his backpack. “How about you?”

“I’m doing mine over Mt Lady.” Uraraka fumbled with her backpack straps. “Hard to find many articles about her, rescue style though.”

“Yeah. I feel like Mr. Aizawa and the other teachers really wanted to give us a challenge. I went to the library a few days ago and got some books.”

“You’re doing All Might?”

“How’d you know?”

“As if you’d choose anyone else!” Uraraka laughed.

“Haha.” Izuku nervously tapped at his chin. Was he really that obvious? If so does that mean Kacchan had noticed? The more he considered what happened yesterday, the more he thought about what he really wanted to ask Kacchan about. He wanted to know how Kacchan’s report was going. He shifted his eyes over to see Katsuki. Katsuki had his book opened, eyes glued to the page with his brow furrowed.

“There’s a reason why they’re making it so difficult, ya know.” Uraraka leaned in closer to him and mouthed, “To weed out the posers.”

“A rumor started by Stain’s sympathizers?” Izuku raised a brow. Even though they fought Stain a year ago, his ideology hadn’t died out. There were still many people who seemed ready to follow his words from his grave.

“Actually it was more so around the sports festival when everyone was watching. But it came up again after the attack during our summer training.” Uraraka pulled out her phone and opened social media. She showed him a few angry posts and discussion boards all about U.A.

Someone or a group of people out to tarnish U.A’s good name? It sounded like a rumor started by villains. But then again there were some salty students who got rejected and had to choose a different school. Rumors were easy to grow and hard to stomp out.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that a person can score low on the written and multiple choice part of the entrance exam but still get into U.A?” Uraraka asked.

“Well I suppose that’s what makes it fair. A combination of fighting and knowledge.” Izuku never really thought about it. He had been too focused on meeting the requirements. That should be all that mattered. A passing grade no matter what.

“I suppose, but a bunch of other kids who got rejected were pretty pissed. I heard they started spreading rumors…” Uraraka dropped her voice, “Saying they sucked up to the teachers before time.”

Izuku didn’t know why but he suddenly got reminded of the note from yesterday. The poorly scribbled words written with malice and directed at… His eyes shifted back to a truffle of blond hair.

Katsuki was still sitting at his desk. A cheek in his palm and the book from the library resting next to his elbow. He hadn’t flipped from the same page he’d been staring at for minutes.

“If anything I don’t think it should matter, since if you can’t keep your grades up you get kicked out of school.” Uraraka said.

“Kicked out? U.A. does that?”

“It still operates like a regular high school.”

Is that why Katsuki was…? Izuku pulled out his phone. No. Texting him now would do no good. He walked past Katsuki’s desk, talking loudly. “I guess, whoever those people are will have to work really hard to prove them wrong!”

Katsuki lifted his head. His tired eyes met with Izuku’s. No words were said, but his blank expression was self-explanatory.

Part 5

Texting would be the true decision factor if Izuku’s guess was true. It would be a risk, sure. There was no guarantee that Katsuki would even respond or that he could respond.

Izuku rested his head against his pillow, the glow of his phone screen made his eyes water slightly as he typed away.

Izuku: Hi Kacchan (^*^)/ It’s Izuku

He double checked the time stamp. No read receipt just delivered.

Welp. Not like him and Kacchan have been close. Sure once upon time they were going to be the best...but now… Sometimes Izuku felt like there was a lot of animosity between them. A part of him wished, Katsuki would view him the same way he did when they were younger. Maybe that was the ignorantly blissful side that believed getting a quirk would let him earn Katsuki’s respect. Hmm... Kirishima was probably closer to Katsuki than he would probably ever be.

That fact made Izuku feel funny. It made his head hurt. It made his heart race. It made his stomach fill with butterflies.

He didn’t know how to act around Kacchan.

He didn’t know what to say around Kacchan.

After their team up on the final last year, things seemed good. Summer had come and gone. But not without leaving a few mental scars after their fight.

No wonder Katsuki was doing his report on All Might. His feelings. His way of taking responsibility for...

Maybe no response was for the best. He locked his phone and set it on his nightstand.

Vrr

His phone?

Vrrrrrr

Izuku grabbed his phone off the nightstand.

Kacchan: Who?

Kacchan: Oh wait.

Kacchan: Don’t text my phone with that Izuku crap, Deku.

Izuku: Deku is mah hero name

A response came quicker this time,

Kacchan: that’s the damn name I gave you don’t forget it.

For some reason, Izuku felt his face heat up.

Kacchan: How did you get my number?

Izuku: Kirishima

Kacchan: Damn him.

Izuku found it strange how proper Katsuki typed. He even added PERIODS. But if Katsuki could type, maybe his assumption had been…

Izuku: How ur report

Kacchan: That’s what he wanted you to ask me?

Izuku kind of wanted to say that he personally wanted to know. Kacchan seemed to withdraw himself from talking a lot about All Might after their fight.

Izuku: We r doing All Might! share ideas??????

Kacchan: Never figured you were a cheater.

He was a WHAT?

Kacchan: Delete my number.

Izuku had no clue what just happened. He shaky typed: We don’t need to fight, before he could press send another message came.

Kacchan: Didn’t I tell you not to pity me?

Izuku quickly back spaced his message. He wrote a new one: Sharing ideas is wat friends do

Kacchan: You think we’re friends?

Ouch. Izuku didn’t know how to respond.

Kacchan: I can’t be friends with you.

Izuku: WHY

Kacchan: You know.😈

That’s right…Kacchan probably hated him. He was dumb to think that fight was any type of heart to heart.

Izuku: srry

He shouldn’t tell how he was worried. Kacchan would hate the idea of that. Kacchan hated the idea of weakness.

Izuku: good night

He was surprised to see, Kacchan is typing…

Kacchan: Did I give you permission to sleep, nerd?

Kacchan: WAKE UP! I know there is a reason you texted me. You were looking at me strange.

Izuku: ……..?

Kacchan: Don’t make me walk over and pound on your door in the middle of the night.

Izuku: Huh?

Kacchan: You know I’m reckless enough to do it.

They were already on shaky terms with the teachers after their fight. The last thing Izuku wanted was more trouble.

Kacchan: Walking over.

Izuku: Wat do u wanna know?🥺🥺🥺

Kacchan: I should be asking you that.

A few minutes ticked by. No follow up question.

Izuku: How can you type?

A knock came at his room door.

“DEKU!!!!” Katsuki shouted.

Izuku jumped out of bed. Sometimes he questioned Kacchan’s sanity. He cracked open the room door, light spilled into his bedroom over his All Might figures and posters.

“You tell anyone, you’re fucking dead.” Katsuki hissed.

Izuku rubbed the tears forming in the corner of his eyes and yawned. What was Katsuki talking about?

“Are you going to play dumb?” Katsuki asked.

“I...uhh, did you see my text or—“

Katsuki pushed Izuku backwards into the dark room. He felt himself almost trip over his feet. A strong hand over his face forced him into submission as the sound of a click signalled the room door locking.

“Did...did...did you just lock me in my own room?” Izuku choked over his own words. He felt his stomach flip flop as the scent of Katsuki’s cologne filled his nostrils.

“Don’t play with me, Deku. You know not to fucking play with me.” Katsuki’s voice dipped into a growl.

Izuku felt Kastuki’s sweaty palms move from his face to comb through his curly green hair. He felt his breath hitch, “What are you so paranoid about?” He couldn’t see Katsuki’s face but he sensed his reaction—anger.

“You...do you have to be such a smartass all the time? You’re so damn smart! You look at me. You see me. You know me. You’ve known me longer than anyone so...Just! Just shut up about it!”

“I’m not talking about any—Mmm!”

Hot lips pressed against his own.

Was Kacchan kissing him?

Izuku’s lips moved to kiss Katsuki back. It was only for a few seconds, sharing the same breath with each other. He shifted upwards on his toes, as Katsuki held his head in place. So warm. So soft. Gentle? The kiss was so light.

Okay. Don’t freak out.

“You tell anyone my secret and I’ll tell yours.” Katsuki whispered.

Okay. Now freak out.

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” Izuku shouted. He opened his mouth to say more but Katsuki’s finger pressed against his lips.

“I’ll tell everyone you’re my boyfriend.” Katsuki said.

“You’re the one who kissed me?” Izuku couldn’t speak above a whisper. Someone would hear. Someone would get suspicious. Someone…

“And I’ll do it again.” Katsuki didn’t say it like a threat. It was said like a promise. He lowered his hand from Izuku’s head. “I’ll kiss you stupid.”

Izuku was so thankful the lights were off. He could feel himself blushing. His heart felt ready to burst. Katsuki couldn’t be his friend but his boyfriend?! What exactly did Katsuki think he…

“Recordings. Picture books. Speech to text.” Katsuki unlocked his phone with a pattern. A comic book of All Might pulled up in a web browser. “I doubt this counts as a reliable source.”

Izuku’s eyes widened slightly. But that meant… How had Kacchan...just using those same tools?

“Simple repetition really helps. Plus the world is filled with shapes and pictures. Ramen shops usually have a sign with a bowl of noodles next to them. Bus stops are round signs and have a picture of a bus.” Katsuki tapped the search bar and automatically the microphone icon appeared. “I never had a need to seriously learn beyond writing my name for a while.”

“I’ve seen you write before.”

“I didn’t say I was dumb. I learn words from tv sometimes.”

Considering how Katsuki’s first choice of a hero name was Lord Explosion Murder, Izuku could believe half of Katsuki’s vocab came from tv.

“When texting, I have my phone programmed to read every message I receive from people outloud.”

Something about the tone Katsuki spoke in, made Izuku’s heart clench. The overconfidence was gone. An unrecognizable tone had replaced it. Not emptiness or disappointment, no sadness or regret. Katsuki stated everything as it was—fact.

“My mom yelled at my teachers to pass me along.” Katsuki sighed. “Because I’d be damned if I ever fell further behind you.”

Izuku noticed the book on his nightstand. A book filled of knowledge about rescues in high risk situations. In a way Kacchan was at high risk of failing. Poor Kacchan held hostage by his stubborn ideals. But Kacchan wasn’t so arrogant not to know—that he was behind him...FAR behind him.

“You want me to teach you?” Izuku knew he couldn’t save everyone. There were probably a bunch more people who’d been pushed along through school. But if he could just help Kacchan.

“I don’t want you to do anything. This isn’t a cry for help so don’t twist things up in the one track mind of yours.” Katsuki lowered his phone. “If you tell anyone I can’t read pass a 3rd grade level, you know.” He leaned in closer to Izuku till their lips brushed. “What everyone will learn.”

Izuku grabbed onto Katsuki’s shirt before he pulled back. “Is this why you can’t be friends with me?” He felt Katsuki try to yank away but he held tighter. “Cause you're embarrassed? I don’t care about that stuff.”

“No. I just can’t view you as a friend. Not after everything before and this. Getting kidnapped gave me time to rethink my life.”

“You’re blackmailing me out of your life?”

“Only if you can't keep your mouth shut.” Katsuki used his knuckles to tilt Izuku’s head up. He seemed to be inspecting those pink lips he kissed. “Think of it as a test of loyalty. It’s only fair I know a secret about you in exchange for one of mine.”

Izuku released his hold on Katsuki’s shirt. He didn’t try to know Kacchan’s secret! It was just a guess. Kacchan had stormed in his dorm room, kissed him, then twisted all the events to make it sound like a damn scandal.

“Not even Kirishma knows, count yourself lucky.” Katsuki walked over and unlocked the door. He slipped out into the hallway and closed the door back much quieter than how he had originally entered.

Izuku was left alone in the darkness. The only sound he could focus on was his heart as his fingers ran over his lips. Kacchan. Was it normal for people to trade secrets like that? Did a kiss seal the deal or...did he kiss him just to tease? He laid back on his bed, trying to ignore the confusion fluttering around in his stomach.

Just an idea.

Yes BONUS—Katsuki being stubborn about confessing his feelings so acts in the most annoying way to just get under Izuku’s skin. Izuku still tries to teach him how to read properly, while dealing with his newly discovered crush on Katsuki. Imagine how they could confess!?

#just thinking #bakudeku #Katsuki just does stuff not even he understands #Izuku is helpful and confused #in my heart they sail to happiness #these dorks #bkdk fluff #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #bkdk #mha #my writing #no spell check

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xxwarriorkitty · 6 years ago

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Long Black

Photo credit: © spin off

Park Jin Young (ft. Jaebum, Yugyeom and Bam Bam) | Single Dad AU, Angst, Fluff | 18,185 words

This is a behemoth of a story because once I got the idea of Single Dad Jinyoung stuck in my head, there was no turning back. Enjoy! 😘

“Just go talk to him already.”

I blinked, my head turning back to my friend, cheeks already heating up at being caught. “Hmm? Who?”

Jihyun narrowed her eyes at me. “Who do you take me for, Kang Ryeo Won? You’ve been staring at Book Guy for the past ten minutes. With your mouth open, might I add?”

“Was not,” I muttered out a quick denial, before furiously moving my pencil across my sketchbook as if I had been deeply engrossed in my work and not staring across the café at the man we’d come to nickname ‘Book Guy’.

He was, as he often did, sitting alone in front of the tall glass windows, a steaming cup of coffee in front of him as he buried his nose in yet another book. I came to this café often because it was near my apartment, and he did too. He was a friend of the owner, Im Jae Bum; I could tell from the way the latter often sat down and chatted with him when there weren’t too many customers. We saw each other so frequently that sometimes, we would smile at each other politely when our paths crossed, but that was the extent of our acquaintance. We never spoke or exchanged names, hence the nickname. Once in a while, Jihyun would meet me here and each time, if Book Guy was here, she’d tease me mercilessly and try to goad me into talking to him. It’d never worked before, and it was definitely not going to work today.

“I don’t know what you’re so afraid of,” Jihyun said, not buying my words. “Aren’t you a little too old to be crushing on a cute guy from afar?”

“I’m not crushing on him,” I refuted, glancing up at her. “And stop staring at him, or he’ll know we’re talking about him.”

“Good,” Jihyun stated. “It’s about time someone did something about this suffocating situation.”

---

“For god’s sake, just go talk to her already.”

Jinyoung turned, startled at the voice. He hadn’t even noticed that Jaebum had sat down across from him at the table. He blinked, putting down his book and clearing his throat. “Talk to who?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Jaebum said. “You’ve been staring at Sketchbook Girl for the past ten minutes. With hearts in your eyes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jinyoung denied, flushing. He took a hurried sip of his coffee, before wincing at how hot it was. “What the hell do you make your coffee with? Volcanic lava?”

“Hellfire,” Jaebum deadpanned. “Because you’re a goddamn liar. Ever since she started coming here, you’ve been coming here twice as often. When are you going to stop looking at her from afar and finally talk to her?”

“I…” Jinyoung opened his mouth to argue, but he glanced across the café again at Sketchbook Girl and he felt his words die. He did like her, didn’t he? He liked how she always looked so engrossed in her work, her pencil flying across paper. He liked her oversized sweaters and how her long brown hair tumbled down her back in waves. He liked how she’d absent-mindedly twirl her pencil between long, slender fingers, and how she sometimes scrunched her nose up when she was stressed. He sighed, knowing it was pointless to lie to his best friend. “I’m just not ready to date again, alright?”

“And when will you be?” Jaebum asked point-blank. “It’s been years, Jinyoung. You haven’t even looked at another girl all this time. Isn’t it time to move on?”

“It’s not about moving on,” Jinyoung said. “You know things aren’t that easy for me. And besides, I have other priorities. Dating is just too much effort.”

“She doesn’t look like a very high-maintenance girl to me,” Jaebum pointed out. “I’m sure she’ll be cool, you know, if you guys end up dating.”

“Stop staring at her, or she’ll know we’re talking about her,” Jinyoung hissed at his friend. “And anyway, how do you even know what would be cool with her? You don’t even know her name.”

Jaebum snorted. “Kang Ryeo Won.”

“Huh?”

“Kang Ryeo Won,” Jaebum repeated. “I know her name. She pays with her credit card.”

Jinyoung rolled his eyes at his friend’s smug grin, although internally, he was thinking that her name suited her. It was unique and pretty, just like her. “Good for you.”

“Now, make your move, stupid. If you won’t, I will.”

---

“I’m not asking him out,” I said firmly. “I’m done with dating, remember?”

“Okay, so you’ve had really shitty luck with men,” Jihyun admitted. “But take a good look at this guy! He isn’t like one of those artsy, broody, emotionally-damaged kind that you seem to have a knack for choosing. He’s the serious intellectual type – I mean, who even reads actual books now? And most importantly, he looks like he actually has a job.”

“Thanks for that glowing review of my life choices,” I scowled. “It’s not like I have any time to date anyway. Did you forget that I have that showcase coming up?” I narrowed my eyes at her. “You took leave from work, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did,” Jihyun assured me. “Do you even have any idea how many favors I cashed in at work to have a Saturday night off?”

“You owe me,” I stated. “You swore you were coming to my last two shows and both times, you bailed at the last minute.”

Jihyun smiled sheepishly. “I promise I won’t this time. But, I can look at your work in your studio. Why do you need me to be there among all those stuffy rich people when you know I stick out like a sore thumb?”

“Well, I stick out too, and I need you there for moral support! Also…”

“Excuse me.”

I trailed off mid-sentence to see Jaebum standing beside our table. I inclined my head in greeting. “Yes?”

Jihyun tried to wave him away when he started to place a plate with a slice of cake on it on our table. “Oh no, we didn’t order any…”

“This is from the gentleman over at that table,” Jaebum said with a smile. “It’s already paid for.” He set down some cutlery on the table before picking a napkin up from his tray. Instead of putting it down on the table, however, he handed it straight to me. “Enjoy.”

I could only blink in confusion as Jihyun started squealing in excitement. I looked down at the napkin in my hand. There was some writing on it, scribbled hastily with a ballpoint pen.

A row of numbers, with two words above it: Jin Young.

---

That night, I lay in bed, holding that napkin. My eyes trailed towards my phone, sitting on the bed beside me.

Should I…?

I traced a finger lightly over the letters, as if I were worried that they might disappear. I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel. On one hand, I was slightly annoyed that he’d placed so much power in my hands by having me be the one to make the decision whether to make contact. On the other hand, hadn’t he already made the first move? Although, it wasn’t something I’d imagined a person like him to do, scribbling his number on a napkin to ask a girl out. He looked like much more of a gentleman, like the kind that would ask politely, face-to-face.

Or maybe not.

What did I know? Up until this afternoon, I hadn’t even known his name.

Jinyoung.

My eyes glided over the name, a silly smile lifting the corners of my lips. What a beautiful name. Elegant and refined, just like him. The image of his face, his bright, doe-like eyes and shy smile, floated into my mind.

I’ll do it.

It was just a friendly gesture, right? I ought to at least thank him for the cake. It was just polite. No biggie.

I grabbed my phone before I could change my mind. I was about to give him a call when I caught sight of the time. It was almost 11 at night. Wasn’t it too late to call? I hesitated. Maybe I’ll drop him a text instead. Determinedly, I opened up a new chat window, typing his number in. I quickly typed in a message, and then deleted it just as quickly. Chewing on my lip, I started crafting another line, which I also deleted. After doing this tango with myself four or five times, I finally had a decently worded message that I thought sounded just cool enough without sounding too desperate or disinterested.

Hello, is this Jinyoung? This is Ryeowon, the girl you gave your number to today. I just wanted to say thank you for the cake you sent over. It was delicious. Nice seeing you today too.

Knowing that I would change my mind if I hesitated any longer, I quickly pressed the ‘send’ button. The moment I did that, I slammed my phone down onto the bed, kicking my feet under the blanket from all the nerves. Then, I composed myself again. Well, what’s done was done. There was no room for regret. Now, all I could do was wait.

And I waited. Minutes went by and my phone was silent. Just when I consoled myself with the thought that he might have been an early sleeper, my phone dinged with a message. It was pathetic how fast I jumped on it, eagerly opening up the message. I was just killing myself with the anticipation of what he would say, but when I read his message, my face fell.

Hi Ryeowon, there must be a mistake. I didn’t send over any cake. By the way, how did you get my number?

A million thoughts ran through my mind. Could I have made a mistake? Was it not him? Did I get the wrong number? I checked the napkin again. No, there was no mistake. I had texted the correct number. I quickly fired back a reply.

Are you Jinyoung? The one who always sits by the window at Jus Coffee, reading a book? Jaebum brought some cake to my table and gave me your number on a napkin, saying it was from you.

The next message came a lot quicker.

Yes, that’s me. I’m assuming you’re the one who’s always sitting near the plant, drawing in your sketchbook? I’m really sorry, but I’m afraid Jaebum was up to some mischief. I never asked him to do either of those things. I’m sorry to have caused you to misunderstand.

I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment at that. So it was a practical joke? I didn’t know Jaebum very well, so I had no idea why he would do such a thing. Perhaps it had been well-meaning, like how Jihyun was always trying to set me up with guys. Oh well. From his messages, it didn’t seem as if Jinyoung was very interested, but I’d taken my shot, so at least, Jihyun wouldn’t bug me about it any further.

Ah, I see. There’s no need to be sorry, since I got free food out of it. Don’t worry, I understand. I also have a friend who’s always trying to get me to date someone. Sorry to bother you so late. Have a good night!

I put aside my phone, sighing. It was a long shot anyway. At least he was nice enough to say things plainly instead of leading me on. He was tons better than all the shitty guys that I did end up dating. Still, I couldn’t help eagerly clicking on the next text message that came in.

Yes, isn’t that a real pain? I’m really sorry. Next time we run into each other at Jus Coffee, let me buy you cake for real as an apology. Have a good night.

---

“Excuse me, Ryeowon…?”

I looked up from my laptop, brows creased in annoyance at the interruption. However, my features instantly relaxed when I saw who it was standing in front of me. “Oh… Jinyoung?”

He smiled as he held out a small plate. “I’m here to deliver my apology cake, as promised.”

“Oh, uh…” I straightened, scrambling to gather some of my papers so I could clear a space at my table. “You didn’t have to.”

“I want to,” he said pleasantly, setting down the plate. “Enjoy.”

My heart was pounding as I watched him talk. Technically, it wasn’t our first conversation, since we’d had one over text, but it was the first time we were speaking face-to-face, and it felt weird. I’d admired him from afar for so long that it felt as if a celebrity had stepped off the screen and was talking to me. I’d never heard his voice before, but it was exactly like how I imagined it – soft, gentle and refined, just the way he appeared.

I was so tongue-tied that it took him actually turning away for me to realize that I hadn’t said anything. “Hey, um… do you want to… maybe, um… sit here?”

Jinyoung paused, eyebrows raised. “Really? It’s alright, you look pretty busy and I don’t want to disturb you.”

“It’s okay,” I said quickly, internally cringing at how desperate I sounded. “I’m not that busy. Could probably use a break anyway.”

Unexpectedly, Jinyoung nodded. “Sure.” He pulled out the other chair at my table and sat down directly across me, setting down the book he’d brought with him today. Then, there was an awkward moment of silence as we just looked at each other, not knowing what to say. Thankfully, Jaebum broke the silence by choosing that moment to appear.

“Iced Americano for the gentleman,” he announced, setting down Jinyoung’s drink. Then, he placed a drink in front of you. “And a long black for the lady. Your usual.” He handed Jinyoung’s card to him, grinning. “I charged it to your card.”

Jinyoung snatched his card back with narrowed eyes. “Thanks.”

“Thank you,” I said bemusedly, watching their interaction.

“Enjoy,” Jaebum said, bowing deeply before sidling away.

Jinyoung gestured to him. “He’s really annoying, isn’t he? I apologize for him.”

I chuckled. “He’s nice. You guys seem really close.”

Jinyoung nodded. “Yeah, well, we’ve known each other since high school. That’s a good…” His eyes rolled upwards as he counted in his head. “…fifteen years. Wow, we’re much older than I imagined.”

“That probably explains why he tried to set you up with me,” I quipped.

“And I’m really sorry about that,” Jinyoung said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I told him a million times that I wasn’t interested in entering a new relationship, but he went ahead and did it anyway. I hope it didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”

“No, don’t worry, I totally understand,” I replied with a wave of my hand. “My friend does the exact same thing to me. I don’t know why she acts like singlehood is a disease. She doesn’t believe that people choose to be alone.”

“One good thing did come out of it, though,” Jinyoung pointed out, smiling shyly. “I’m sitting here, talking to you. I made a new friend.”

I nodded, smiling back. “Yeah, so did I. Now we can actually talk to each other instead of smiling awkwardly every time we see each other.”

“As long as I’m not disturbing you,” Jinyoung said. “You look like you’re doing something important.”

I made a face as I looked down at my order forms. “Yeah, well, it’s incredibly mundane stuff, really. I’m having this showcase this weekend, and there’s all this paperwork to get through. When people told me to chase my dreams and be an artist, nobody told me that I’d have argue with contractors over screws and light bulbs and how many millimeters my fishing lines have to be in order to prevent my paintings from crashing upon the heads of buyers that are going to pay next month’s rent.”

Jinyoung looked intrigued. “Ah, you’re an artist, then? No wonder I always see you drawing. Do you have to take care of all the logistics on your own, though? Can’t you hire someone else to do it?”

“I do have an agent,” I explained. “But trying to put together a whole event is just a lot of work. I’m painfully introverted, so he has to do all the bits that involve talking to people – inviting guests, finding buyers, gathering media, coordinating with the owners of the venue… In exchange, I take the less glamorous aspects of it. If I could actually get up there and mount the lights and paintings myself, I’d do it, but you know… Sorry, I’m boring you with details, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not,” Jinyoung assured me, shaking his head. “It’s sounds really interesting. I work as an editor in a publishing house, so all I do is sit around and look at words. Trust me, I’m not easy to bore.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You read for a living, and you still choose to do it in your free time?”

Jinyoung smiled sheepishly. “I really do love reading. In my job, I read a lot of seriously terrible writing. I feel like I need to read good writing whenever I can so that I can balance it out. And also, it helps me do some market research about what’s out there, and what people are reading.”

“So essentially, when you’re relaxing in a café, you’re actually still working,” I pointed out.

Jinyoung chuckled. “I need a life, don’t I?”

I shrugged. “I’m the last person to judge. I rarely do anything exciting.” Then, I had a thought. “Unless… Never mind, you wouldn’t be interested anyway.”

“No, please tell me,” Jinyoung said, leaning forward in his chair. “I’m open to any suggestions you have.”

“You could come to my showcase.”

“This weekend?”

I nodded. “I mean, only if you’re interested. It’s just a small event in a gallery, and I’m displaying a series of paintings about the banality of life in a big city.” I started getting self-conscious. Why was I even inviting him to see my work? He was a complete stranger. I could sense myself rambling at some point, but like a train careening off its tracks, I couldn’t stop myself. “But it’s probably not your scene. Hell, it’s not even my scene. I just smile and nod and pretend to be some snooty, eccentric artist when in actuality, small talk terrifies me. I’ve been trying to get my friend Jihyun to come with me, but she keeps bailing on me at the last minute. In fact, I’m sure she’s going to send me a text any minute now and—”

“I’ll come.”

My train came to a screeching halt and for a moment, I could only stare blankly at him. “What?”

“I’ll come,” Jinyoung repeated, with his trademark smile that brought out the creases in the corners of his eyes. “I can be your company for the night. And it’s been a while since I went out to appreciate art. It’ll be fun.”

“Oh, I’ll, uh…” I looked around the table, flustered. “I’ll have my agent add your name to the guest list.”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow mischievously. “Really? Just like that? What if someone pretends to be me and tries to get in?”

“I’m not even famous,” I said with a laugh. “Nobody would be interested to crash my party. Seriously, you don’t have to come just to be nice. I’m sure you have better ways to spend a Saturday night.”

“I don’t,” Jinyoung assured me. “And I want to. I really want to see your work.” He smiled again, causing my heart to skip a beat. “I’ll see you on Saturday night, Ryeowon.”

---

Saturday rolled around really quickly. I spent the day on my feet (and sometimes even on my hands and knees) just trying to get everything in order for the opening that night. It was evening before I knew it, and my agent had to physically remove the tools from my hands and force me to take a shower and get changed. I managed to put on a slinky dress, apply some make-up and sweep my hair up into what I hoped was an understated by classy up-do, just as the first guests started arriving.

Well, here we go.

For the first hour or so, I was whirled around the gallery by my agent, where I smiled and greeted people while downing champagne to make the night go by easier. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was terrible at small talk. I mostly allowed my agent to lead the conversation, chiming in only when I was asked a question. Among the circles, I was known to be a real ice queen, but I supposed being an artist meant that no one really took offence to that. Most people just accepted that us ‘creative types’ had our own quirks and eccentricities, and that was something I was thankful for.

My name was all over the place, and the event was for me, to celebrate the work I’d just completed, but to be very honest, I was bored out of my mind. If I had it my way, I’d never have a showcase. Unfortunately, the reality of my work was that I needed people to buy my art in order to keep making art, and hence, I had to make it through these events. To make things worse, Jihyun had, expectedly, bailed at the last minute. Which was why I was exceptionally relieved when Jinyoung walked in through the door.

I hadn’t pegged him for an art person, but he looked like he belonged here. He was dressed in a black and white checked suit with a black t-shirt underneath, standing perfectly on the line between casual and dressy. He caught my eye and gave me a smile, which I returned, and gestured that he was going to walk around while I finished my conversation. I nodded, and waited for my agent to finish his spiel about how I’d gotten my inspiration for the piece we were looking at, an abstract piece titled ‘To: You’. He was going on and on about how it was about a lost lover (it wasn’t), and the buyers, a couple in their fifties, were lapping it up. I waited for him to stop talking, and for the couple to look at me with sympathetic eyes, the wife touching a hand to her heart, and to offer me their deepest condolences.

I finally managed to escape. I found Jinyoung standing in front of a painting, his hands in his pockets as he stared intently at the canvas. I snagged two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and sidled up beside him. “May I offer you a drink, sir?”

He turned to me with a smile. “Thank you.” He gestured to the room. “I took a walk. Your work is beautiful. Although I’ll be very honest here – I don’t think I understand any of it.”

I clinked my glass with his. “Well, thank you for being honest. I didn’t make my art to be understood. Artists aren’t game masters setting puzzles to be decoded, you know?” I lowered my voice. “It’s part of the reason why I hate these things. Everyone’s trying to interpret my art and come up with some kind of ‘correct’ message, as if they aren’t just looking for something to class up their interior design.”

“An artist that hates it when people appreciate her work,” Jinyoung commented with a laugh. “That’s something new.”

“Well, they can appreciate it silently,” I pointed out. “Most people are just talking aloud because they want to appear smart and cultured. It’s as if they’re superior beings if they can ascribe some kind of meaning to my work or partake in ‘artspeak’, if you will. It’s awfully pretentious. If you listen closely, you’ll realize that they’re saying a lot without saying anything at all.”

“You sound like an expert,” Jinyoung said bemusedly.

“I am,” I agreed. I cocked my head with a smile. “Is that doubt I hear in your voice?”

Jinyoung chuckled. “I’m sure not everyone is that bad.”

“Oh yeah?” I challenged confidently. “Alright, let’s play a game. We walk around the gallery, and every time we hear someone say something pretentious, we drink.”

“Just to be clear, what constitutes ‘pretentious’?” Jinyoung asked.

“When someone calls my work ‘provocative’, for example,” I pointed out. “Or talk about how I’m trying to portray some kind of ‘sensibility’, or ‘inner conflict’. Or show some kind of ‘complexity’. Oh, and every time someone says something about the human condition, we drink twice.”

Jinyoung was laughing by this point. “You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious,” I answered. I grabbed his hand. “Alright, let’s go. I swear you’ll understand when you actually hear it.”

The rest of the night was actually a lot of fun. Jinyoung and I hovered around behind people, listening to them talk to each other about the works they were looking at. (To be fair, my agent was also going around trying to perpetuate all these cryptic messages because apparently things sold better if you had a story.) And tonight was turning out to be a bountiful night, because there were a lot more weird comments going around than usual. Jinyoung realized very quickly that he did recognize completely vapid artspeak when he heard it. Midway through the night, we added ‘sublime’ and ‘interwoven’ to our list. It was safe to say that by the end of the night, we were both light-headed and giggly from the effects of bullshit and too much champagne. At some point, we found a corner to hide in and just talked to each other. He was a fascinating person. He talked about his work, and his interests, and the books that he enjoyed. He had a way of speaking that was just so pleasing to listen to. I didn’t even realize that we were the last two people left until my agent came up to me.

“Ryeowon, good news…” he started, before realizing that I was holding on to Jinyoung’s arm to keep myself upright. “Are you okay?”

“Yeap!” I said chirpily. “What’s the good news?”

“We sold everything but one piece,” he said. “And it happens to be the one you said was your favorite.”

I turned to Jinyoung and scoffed. “See? I told you nobody really understands my art.”

We stood in front of the aforementioned painting, a piece titled ‘You Are’. It was by far the darkest piece in terms of color, and the only one on which I’d used black paints quite liberally, but in terms of the meaning that it held for me, this was the most hopeful and uplifting one. It depicted a dark room, with a window in the center of it, looking out towards a patch of sky. I tried to capture the sky at twilight, just before the sun set, which was why I used hues of purple, pink and orange.

“Tell me what you were thinking when you painted this,” Jinyoung said softly beside my ear.

“Nothing much, really,” I answered, staring at the painting. “This was the one piece that came really easily. I was struggling to find inspiration, and I was in a space where I was doubting everything that I had done. And I just looked out of the window, and suddenly, I just felt really lucky. Just to be able to have a job that I like, that affords me little luxuries like looking at the sky when I want to.”

“That’s beautiful,” Jinyoung said, looking straight at me. For a while, neither of us said anything. Then, he turned to my agent. “Do you still have room for one more buyer? I’ll take this piece.”

---

The last leg of the night was a little blurry to me. I remembered being light-headed and giddy with excitement when I left the gallery, waving away my agent, who’d offered to give me a ride. Somehow, I ended up taking a taxi with Jinyoung, and somehow, he’d insisted on walking me up to my apartment. Somehow, we ended up stuck outside my apartment door as I struggled to remember the passcode to open my door.

“Fuck, why isn’t this opening?” I grumbled as another obnoxious beep sounded, indicating that I’d keyed in the wrong code again.

“Is this even your house?” Jinyoung asked, laughing softly so he didn’t wake my neighbors. He looked up at the unit number above my door, reading it aloud. “Is that correct?”

“Yes, it is,” I insisted, jabbing random numbers now. “Do you think I’d not know my own address?”

“Well, I’d assume you would also know the passcode to your own door, but here we are.”

I glanced up from my attempt to crack the code to my front door. “Are you laughing at me?”

Jinyoung shook his head cutely, pursing his lips. “I most definitely am not.”

Okay, he’d definitely had too much to drink. And clearly, so had I. Why wasn’t the goddamn code working?

Jinyoung’s hand shot out, holding mine so I would stop pushing random numbers on the keypad. “Stop doing that. If you try too many times, it’ll think you’re a burglar and lock you out.” He shook with quiet laughter. “Or worse, your security company will be alerted and we’ll be arrested.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” I whined. “We’re stuck out here anyway.”

“Just stop,” Jinyoung said, tugging me away from the front door and inadvertently closer to himself. “And think.”

“Think,” I repeated. We were standing so close to each other now that I could smell the musky, slightly spicy scent of his cologne. When I lifted my eyes, all I could see were his lips, tantalizingly within reach. He looked down, his eyes meeting mine, and I could see him stop breathing. He swallowed, and I could see that he was trying to clear the fog in his brain. For a moment, I thought he was going to release me and move away, but he didn’t. Then, in the next moment, it was clear that neither of us were thinking when the gap between us slowly disappeared, our lips meeting.

I was most definitely, certifiably out of my mind. Other than the fact that I barely knew the guy, he had very clearly friend-zoned me. And friends in the friend-zone didn’t make out with each other. None of that seemed to matter as he tangled his fingers in my hair, shaking it loose from the pins that held it up. His lips moved fervently against mine, with passion and longing that definitely was not supposed to exist between friends. I felt a light-headedness that had nothing to do with the alcohol. As he pressed me against the door, I slipped my hand under his blazer, delighted at the hard muscle that I felt beneath the soft fabric of his t-shirt. His hips rolled against mine and a low, delicious groan left his lips. My hands slipped under his t-shirt as his tightened around my waist. Everything was too fast, and too much, yet not enough at the same time. Were we really doing this here, in the corridor outside my apartment?

A loud ringing sound rudely jerked us both out of the haze of lust. We jumped apart like two guilty teenagers, breathing hard. I looked away, trying to rearrange my hair and clothes as Jinyoung fumbled in his pocket for his phone. He glanced guiltily at me before stepping away to answer it.

“Hello?” he greeted, trying to catch his breath. “Yeah, I, uh…” He stopped to look at his watch. “I’m really sorry. I ended up staying later than I expected… Yeah, I’ll come over now. Sorry.”

I wiped my lips surreptitiously, willing my senses to return as I tried not to overhear him. Unfortunately, it was late and the hallway was quiet, so I heard every word despite him whispering. My sobriety was fast returning to me as the awkwardness set in. I turned away, trying my electronic lock again. The traitorous thing sounded with four successive chimes as the mechanism unlocked. I could have sworn I’d entered the same numbers the last ten times. Now, it looked like I’d gotten it wrong on purpose.

“Well, whaddya know?” I announced lamely, turning to Jinyoung. Neither of us could meet each other’s eyes now, and from the apologetic look on his face, I could tell that he regretted our transgression as much as I did. I would like to say that didn’t hurt me, but the truth was, it did, a little bit.

“I’m sorry,” he said, although I wasn’t sure what for. “I have to go. You’re uh… You’re alright?”

“Well, yeah,” I answered, pointing to my open door. “You should go. To you know, whoever’s waiting for you.”

He looked embarrassed. “Right. Um, it’s not… Yeah. Well…”

“You got a little…” I gestured to the corner of his lips, where my lipstick had transferred. Maybe I was enjoying his discomfort a little. Not like he didn’t deserve it, for being so infuriatingly confusing and impossible to read.

“Right,” he said, quickly wiping his lips. He didn’t successfully get it all, but I didn’t tell him. He bowed, retreating. “Goodnight, Ryeowon.”

“Goodnight, Jinyoung.”

I slipped into my apartment without waiting for him to leave first. When the door was firmly shut behind me, I leaned against it, letting out a long exhale. What on earth had just happened?

---

“Maybe he’s married,” Jihyun speculated, her voice hushed.

I gave her a blank look. “No ring.”

“He could have taken it off,” Jihyun countered. “Or maybe he has a girlfriend.”

“He said he was single and not looking to date.”

“Gay?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “His friend tried to set him up with me, Jihyun. And trust me, from how he kissed me that night, definitely straight.”

“Maybe he has performance issues,” Jihyun said gravely. “I heard that after 30, the risk of having some kind of sexual dysfunction goes up exponentially.”

“Or, he’s a perfectly normal guy who’s just not interested in me,” I suggested. “How’s that for a radical idea?”

“Well, it just doesn’t make sense,” Jihyun huffed.

“You know what doesn’t make sense?” I pointed out. “You bailing on me even though you said you wouldn’t. This is all your fault.”

“Someone called in sick, okay?” she defended. “I couldn’t just walk out.” She looked across the café at Jinyoung. “Besides, it’s not my fault that you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. What I want to know is: how he does he go from jumping your bones to, you know… this?”

I did know what she was referring to, unfortunately. Today was the first day Jinyoung and I had crossed paths after that night, and it had been unbelievably… friendly. Jihyun and I were already at our usual table, and when he’d come in, he’d come over to say hi, and then headed off to his usual table and started reading. There wasn’t even a hint of awkwardness in his behavior, or any indication that anything out of the ordinary had happened. He’d just been a regular polite acquaintance, saying hi and then going off on his way. It felt like I was the only one who felt that the whole situation was weird.

“I’m sure something is wrong with him,” Jihyun decided. “I mean, look at him! He’s handsome and educated and seems like the perfect gentleman. There’s no reason for a man like that to be single if he’s normal.”

“Jihyun, just drop it,” I sighed. “Whatever’s up with him, I don’t need to know, alright? I said I wasn’t interested in dating, and I really don’t need all this drama. Whatever happened, happened, and I’m just going to move on.”

I glanced across the café at Jinyoung’s side profile. It was a pity he was so confusing, because for a while, I’d genuinely enjoyed his company. That night at the gallery, I’d really felt like he understood me. Shaking my head, I turned away. It didn’t matter how perfect he was. If he was going to be such an indecisive wuss, he didn’t deserve my time or energy.

---

“Class, shall we say a big thank you to Ryeowon-ssaem for the lesson today?”

“THANK YOU, RYEOWON-SSAEM!”

“Thank you for being such great students!” I said, bowing to the class of eight-year-olds. “I hope you enjoyed your time today.”

As the bunch of excited elementary schoolers started packing their bags and running out of the classroom, I turned to their teacher, Ms. Park, deflating. “I don’t know how you do this every single day. It’s exhausting!”

“It’s tough, but it has its perks,” Ms. Park said with a laugh. “Thank you so much for offering to do this. The kids really loved you.”

“Or, they loved having time off from lessons to just mess around with paint,” I replied, embarrassed. To be honest, I just volunteered because my agent thought it would be great for publicity, and he’d spent the most part of the day snapping photos to post on my profile page. I definitely had fun hanging out with the kids all day, but I wasn’t altruistic by any means.

“Perhaps,” Ms. Park joked. “Either ways, thank you so much. Come, I’ll see you out.”

I followed her lead out of the classroom and down the hallway, to the entrance of the school. With her, the small talk wasn’t so bad. She asked about my latest project, and I told her it wasn’t quite coming together yet, but there were a few pieces I’d created here and there. She suggested that I come back because I could gain inspiration from the kids, and I politely agreed, but thankfully, before she could hold me to it, she paused in front of one of the students, who was sitting alone in front of the driveway.

“Jeha, you’re still here?”

The boy jumped up to bow to us. “My appa says he’ll be a little late.” He smiled at me, his large round eyes twinkling. “I really enjoyed your class today, Ryeowon-ssaem. Will you be coming back again?”

“Maybe sometime in the future,” I said vaguely.

“Jeha wants to be an artist when he grows up,” Ms. Park told me, beaming proudly.

“Do you?” I asked, suddenly feeling endeared to him. “Maybe the next time I display my work, I’ll invite you.” Although, I didn’t even enjoy my own showcases and there was probably too much alcohol around.

The boy looked absolutely delighted. “Do you have your own studio where you get to just spend all your time painting?”

“Oh, Jeha, looks like your appa’s here.”

Before I could answer, a black sedan pulled up to the driveway. Even before he stepped out of the car, I caught a glimpse of the driver and I felt my stomach drop to the floor. I looked at Jeha again, and came to the shocking realization that there was indeed an uncanny resemblance I hadn’t noticed before.

Park Jinyoung was his father.

He had a son. Jinyoung had a son.

The shock and confusion I felt must have been obvious, because Jinyoung looked clearly uncomfortable as he approached us. He avoided my eyes as he greeted Ms. Park first, and took Jeha’s backpack. Then, his eyes slowly meet mine and he bowed his head meekly.

“Oh, you know each other?” Ms. Park asked obliviously.

“I’m a regular at his friend’s café,” I said as means of explanation, not even looking at her. This whole time, I was just staring at Jinyoung, confused. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around the fact that he was this kid’s father. The boy was eight. Wasn’t Jinyoung a little too young to be his father? Was this why he was being all weird? Was Jihyun right? Was he married?

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice small.

“Ryeowon-ssaem came to teach us art,” Jeha piped up. “We used watercolors today.”

“Oh, did you?” Jinyoung cooed at his son. His eyes flickered up to me for a moment. “Did you have fun?”

“Yes!” Jeha declared. “Can we go and see her work next time? Ryeowon-ssaem has a studio!”

“Yeah, sure,” he said patronizingly. He looked back at me again. “Um, do you need a lift?”

“No, thank you,” I said calmly and coldly. He wasn’t the only one who could behave like a stranger. “I’m calling a cab. Have a good day.” I waved at Jeha, smiling. “Bye, Jeha!”

---

“Can I sit?”

I lifted my eyes from my sketchbook briefly. “Sure, Jeha’s appa.”

Jinyoung sat, his brows knitted in consternation. “Why are you calling me that?”

“Isn’t it true?” I asked.

“Are you mad?”

I sighed, setting my book aside. “That you have a son? No. That you failed to mention it before you kissed me and then acted like nothing happened? Yes, a little.”

Jinyoung sucked in a deep breath, looking defeated. “What was I supposed to do? Open a conversation with ‘by the way, I’m a father of an eight-year-old’?”

“It’s not something to hide or be ashamed of,” I said blankly. “Is it?”

“God, no,” Jinyoung answered quickly. “I couldn’t be prouder of Jeha. It’s just… something that scares people away.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why would it? You said we were just friends. Until you ambushed me, at least.”

The corner of Jinyoung’s lips twitched. “You were equal parts to blame, Ryeowon. You kissed me back just as eagerly.”

“You confused me,” I said defensively. “In fact, you’re still confusing me right now.”

“I think I confuse myself too,” Jinyoung admitted. “I just… I know I said I didn’t want to date, but I think I’m just scared of being rejected. I mean, it’s not something easy for women to accept, and I think… I wanted you to like me.”

“I do,” I said, before correcting myself. “I mean, I did. I… I don’t know, right now.”

“I do,” Jinyoung said firmly. “I really do like you. I’m sorry I handled things really badly, and I understand if you think I’m a jerk. It’s just the first time I’ve been interested in someone since, you know… Jeha’s mom.”

“The call you got the other night?” I asked.

“Babysitter,” Jinyoung clarified. “The ahjumma next door takes care of Jeha when I’m out, and I was supposed to pick him up earlier, before I got um… distracted. Jeha’s mom isn’t around anymore.”

“Can I ask… what happened?” I asked tentatively. “You don’t have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m just… curious.”

Jinyoung looked down at the table, playing with his fingers absently. “She died in an accident. Four years ago.” He forced a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It took a while to come to terms with it. In fact, I just managed to stop wearing my ring this year. It got tiring to hear people asking where Jeha’s mom was.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, forgetting momentarily that I was supposed to be mad at him. “It must be tough, raising a kid alone.”

Jinyoung shrugged. “I guess. But he’s mine, you know? I’m prepared to take care of him on my own. I don’t want to be one of those single dads who’s looking for a mother for my child. Although, I suppose…” He gazed tentatively at me. “We come in a package, and whoever I date has to be able to live with that.”

“I see.” He was still looking expectantly at me, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. It had come as a shock to me that he was a father, but who was I to judge? It wasn’t like I had to decide right now whether I was going to marry him and take care of his kid forever.

“I don’t know where this is eventually going to lead to,” Jinyoung said carefully, his expression sincere. “I can’t promise anything and I don’t know whether things will work out in the end. All I know is that I don’t really want to stay away from you. I want to see you, and get to know you better. And I’m really hoping you feel the same way too.”

I thought about the night at the gallery. It had felt so natural, so comfortable to hang out with him, and it was the first time in ages that I’d laughed so much. I wasn’t the type to get close to others easily, so this connection meant something to me. On top of that, he was also handsome and charming and smart. There was just something magnetic about him that I couldn’t say no to. I sighed. “And if I say that I do? Then what?”

“Then we start over and see where this leads us,” Jinyoung said, breaking out into a big smile, dimples and all. “Give me a chance to make things right. Let me take you out on a date.”

---

Two days later, we went on our first date.

It wasn’t anything special. We took a walk along the Han River, and ate at a cute little noodle place that he swore had the best dumplings in the world. On our second date, we went to a museum. On our third date, we went to a movie and in the darkness of the theatre, he held my hand for the first time.

Compared to the short-lived whirlwind romances I usually found myself in, Jinyoung and I were really taking things slow. He was the perfect gentleman. He planned our dates in advance, brought me little things to surprise me (cookies, a book he liked, a flower he plucked from a bush we passed) and was extremely considerate. He was always apologetic about the fact that our dates were short, because he had to juggle work and taking care of his son, but none of that mattered to me. Despite the slow pace, within a few weeks, I was falling harder and faster than I ever had before.

It was exhilarating, but in equal parts terrifying.

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Jihyun questioned, her expression betraying her skepticism. “I mean, he’s a widower, and he’s over thirty, and he’s got a son! A son! Surely there are better men you can date.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, stirring my coffee. “You were the one trying to push me to him. What happened to him being smart and handsome and having a job?”

“That was before I knew that he had a full-grown child!” Jihyun pointed out, her eyes automatically shifting towards the corner that Jinyoung usually sat in. He wasn’t here today, but even she’d come to do that by habit. “Have you considered that? Are you ready to thrust into motherhood?”

“I’m not going to be Jeha’s mother,” I said, glancing at Jaebum to make sure he was still behind the counter, lest he heard Jihyun talking shit about his friend. “I’m just going to be this really cool aunt that his father happens to be dating. Jinyoung doesn’t expect me to take care of his kid for him.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Jihyun said, her tone snarky. “I’m sure he’s going to lead two separate lives, one with you and one with his son. That’s totally going to work out.”

I folded my arms, exasperated. “Then what, Jihyun? Am I supposed to just dump him because he has a son? He’s the first person I’ve ever dated that really understands me. All those other guys I’ve been with, they just liked the idea of me: that I was someone who went against the grain and was a rebel, or at the very least, looked like I would be up for anything in bed. Not Jinyoung. When he looks at me, I feel like he actually sees me.”

Jihyun softened. “It sounds like he’s really special to you.”

“He is,” I answered in a small voice. “I really like him. I’m happy, when I’m with him.”

“And I’m happy for you,” Jihyun said. “I’m just worried about how things are going to pan out. It’s not going to be easy, you know?”

I chewed on my lip. “I know that. But… it’s worth a shot, right? I mean, I’m really just enjoying the ride right now. I know things might get tough, but we’ll cross that bridge when it comes… right?”

“Oh, honey,” Jihyun sighed. “I really hope you guys know what you’re doing.”

---

“I want you to meet Jeha,” Jinyoung said one day, without any warning.

I looked up at him, surprised. It was a random afternoon, and we were snuggled up in my living room, both of us reading our books. It was becoming more common, us being alone together. We were both so used to being alone that we had our little habits and our pockets of me-time, but we were also in that fuzzy honeymoon phase of our relationship in which we wanted to spend all our time together. Hence, this was the result: quiet afternoon dates with each other for company while we did our work or just read.

“I’ve met him,” I said, quietly averting my eyes, even though I knew what he meant.

“I mean officially,” Jinyoung said, putting down his book. “I want him to know that we’re dating. That you’re my girlfriend.”

I continued staring at my book, even though none of the words were making sense anymore. “Would an eight-year-old even know what that means?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Jinyoung admitted. “But I want him to know anyway. He’s going to see you around a lot, and I want him to know why. You both mean a lot to me, and I don’t want it to seem as if I’m hiding you from him.” I said nothing, but he seemed to sense my apprehension. He pulled me closer, kissing the top of my head. “What’s wrong?”

I twisted so I could look up at him. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

Jinyoung smiled. “What do you mean? You’re already his idol.”

“Yeah, but that’s before I was his dad’s new girlfriend,” I pointed out. “Us being together changes things.”

“It does,” Jinyoung agreed. “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, is it?”

“How do you know?” I complained. “He could hate the idea of his dad being with someone. He could think I’m trying to steal you.”

Jinyoung wrapped his arms around me tightly. “I wish I could give you a definite answer, but I really don’t know how he’s going to react. This is the first time I’ve tried to date after his mother passed.” It was a horrifyingly unsatisfactory answer. I tried to squirm out of his grip, but he wouldn’t let go. “But he’s a good kid. He’s independent, and mature; he knows I’m having a hard time, and so he takes care of himself well. I’m sure that he’ll want me to be happy.”

I gave up my feeble struggle. “Are you? Happy?”

“I am.” He relaxed his grip, putting enough space between us so that he could drop a light kiss on the tip of my nose. “I haven’t been this happy in a long time. Every day, I wake up feeling so lucky that I found you.”

“You’re just saying that,” I accused, although I couldn’t help but blush.

“I’m not,” Jinyoung refuted, chuckling. “You make me so happy, my heart feels like it might burst.”

I leaned up to give him a kiss on the lips before snuggling into his embrace. That, I could relate to. Jinyoung was warmth itself. Being in his arms made me feel so comfortable that it was almost frightening. I was so ridiculously, sickeningly happy that I was sure that life was going to punch me in my face at any moment and tell me that it was one big practical joke.

“It would make me happier if I could spend time with both my favorite people,” Jinyoung said, oblivious to the way my heart was pounding in my ears. “What do you say?”

---

“Wow, this is awesome!”

I watched as Jeha ran around my studio, touching brushes and palettes. He stopped to marvel at a row of paint tubes. “Appa, did you even know they made paints in so many colors?”

Jinyoung was beaming as he looked at me. “Wow, I had no idea.”

“This is so cool!” Jeha gushed, pausing in front of one of my newer paintings. “You’re a really good artist, Ryeowon-ssaem.”

“Try not to touch anything,” Jinyoung warned, and seeing this fatherly side of him caused my stomach to flip-flop. For a few hours a week, I got him all to myself, but this was a reminder that he came with a plus-one, and I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that.

“Thanks, Jeha,” I said brightly, pushing aside the unease. “You want to create something with me?”

The way Jeha’s eyes lit up made me smile. He was a really cute kid, and I could really see some of Jinyoung’s mannerisms in him. “No way. Can I really?”

“Of course,” I said. I loaded a blank canvas onto an easel and pulled up a chair for him so he could reach it easier. Then, I brought him some pencils. “You want to start by drawing something?”

I had to admit, hanging out with Jeha was pretty fun. He was a smart kid, eloquent beyond his age, and also pretty talented at art for an eight-year-old. He drew some robots from a cartoon he liked, and we had fun mixing colors with acrylic paint and painting them. I taught him how to play with shades and gradients, and he learnt quickly. Jinyoung just hung back, watching us, occasionally offering suggestions and taking pictures. Then, he left us alone to order lunch. By the time Jeha and I sat back to admire our finished masterpiece, take-out had arrived. All three of us sat down on the floor with our bowls of jjajjangmyun.

“So, Jeha, did you have fun today?” Jinyoung asked, leaning over to wipe a smudge of paint off his son’s face.

Jeha nodded eagerly. “It was the best. When I grow up, I want to have a studio just like this.”

“You can come over again,” I offered. “We can try playing with other things next time.”

Jeha looked at Jinyoung with wide eyes. “Can we?”

Jinyoung’s eyes found mine as he nodded. He held my gaze for a while, and I knew he was going to do it right then. “Of course. You’re going to see Ryeowon-ssaem a lot more often from now on. As long as she’s free and doesn’t mind, you can come hang out with her.”

Jeha must have picked up from his father’s tone that this conversation was taking a serious turn, because he looked slightly confused. “I am?”

Jinyoung nodded, looking at his son. “Jeha, you like Ryeowon-ssaem, right?”

Jeha nodded slowly. “Yes, I do.”

“Well, you see,” Jinyoung licked his lips. He reached out and grasped my hand in his. “Appa likes her a lot too.”

My heart was pounding so loudly I could barely hear what he was saying. I couldn’t believe that I was so desperate for the approval of an eight-year-old boy, but I was. I could only stare at his face, hoping to catch a glimpse of what he was feeling. To his credit, the boy had an amazing poker face. It was clear that he was no longer smiling like before, but his expression was blank, betraying no emotion, neither positive nor negative.

“I like her so much I asked her to be my girlfriend,” Jinyoung was explaining to Jeha. “I want to spend time with her, and I want her to be a part of my life, which means she’ll be a part of your life too.”

“Does this mean you’re going to get married?” Jeha asked.

“No,” I quickly blurted out.

Jinyoung glanced at me, furrowing his brows disapprovingly. “We don’t know,” he said gently. “Adults usually date for some time before they decide whether or not to get married, and Ryeowon-ssaem and I have only been seeing each other for a couple of months. It’s too early to say.”

“Okay.”

Seriously, the kid was way more mature than an eight-year-old was supposed to be. He seemed to be taking it in his stride, quietly processing what he’d just been told. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath until he turned and spared me a glance. When he did, though, my stomach sank.

He didn’t like it.

His expression was still blank, and he wasn’t outwardly expressing any emotion, and I know I sound crazy, but I could just tell that his eyes had hardened. Earlier, he’d been looking at me with unbridled joy and awe, but now, his beautiful round eyes conveyed what I could only interpret as something closer to hatred.

We looked at each other for a long moment, and I felt like I should say something, but my mind was blank. He was the first to break the silence with his sweet, innocent voice.

“Can I use the washroom?”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “Sure. It’s that way.”

“Thank you.”

We were silent again as Jeha excused himself. When he was out of earshot, I turned to Jinyoung, who was looking at me expectantly. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?”

My hands shook as I started clearing our empty bowls. “Jinyoung… he doesn’t like me.”

“What? No,” Jinyoung disagreed, taking the bowls from my hands. “Where did you get that?”

I looked at him, hoping for some assurance that I wasn’t crazy. “Didn’t you see him? He was all happy and smiling, and when you told him, his mood just changed.”

“He just wasn’t expecting it,” Jinyoung assured me with a smile. “That’s just the way he processes information. He’ll need some time to mull over it, and then decide how he feels. If he were unhappy, he’d have shown it right away.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. “Why does that sound so much like someone else I know?”

“He’s just like me,” Jinyoung said with a grin. He leaned over to steal a kiss. “And if I like you so much, how can he possibly dislike you?”

That helped me feel better a little bit. We cleaned up together, and when Jeha returned, it was time for them to go. I saw them to the door, and Jeha bowed politely to me. “Thank you for today, Ryeowon-ssaem. I had a lot of fun.”

I could tell it wasn’t with the same amount of enthusiasm as he’d had earlier, but I forced myself to push my worries out of my mind. “I had fun too, Jeha. When our painting dries fully, I’ll have your appa bring it home for you. Or, you can come and get it yourself next time.”

The boy said nothing and bowed again before trudging away. Jinyoung pulled me in for a quick kiss before rushing after him. “I’ll call you later.”

I nodded, and closed the door after them. I let out a huge sigh as I dragged myself back to my workspace. Whatever the outcome of that meeting was, I was just glad it was over. I took another look at the painting that Jeha and I had created together, and I gasped.

Across the front of the painting was a big, messy splotch of purple paint.

---

“I don’t know why you’re afraid of an eight-year-old.”

“He hates me!” I whined, looking nervously at the gate of the school. I looked around me at the handful of parents that were standing around, waiting for their kids to come outside. “What if he doesn’t want to come with me and the parents here think I’m some kind of kidnapper?”

Jihyun sighed loudly over the phone. “Honey, he’s eight. If he doesn’t go with you, where will he go? It’s not like he can call a cab.”

“He could scream, or run, or I don’t know, ask another adult to call the police?” I hissed at her.

“Look, he’s not going to do that,” Jihyun stated calmly. “Jinyoung told him that you’re coming to pick him up today, right? If he weren’t okay with that, he’d have thrown a tantrum already, and Jinyoung would have had no choice but to ask someone else for the favor.”

“Jinyoung doesn’t believe that his son hates me,” I pointed out. “And the kid is pretty crafty. He acts like he’s fine in front of his dad, but… did I tell you about the painting?”

“Yes, you did, like three times,” Jihyun said blankly. “And what did Jinyoung say about that?”

“He said that Jeha probably did it by accident and was afraid to tell us because he didn’t want to get into trouble,” I answered, running a hand through my hair. “But the painting was upright, Jihyun. A spill would have been an accident. It looked like someone had flung a tin of paint at it. There’s no way that wasn’t deliberate.”

“Well, he’s eight,” Jihyun reminded me. “If he really did that, then you give him a good scolding when you see him and make sure he doesn’t vandalize anything again in future. If you’re going to be his stepmother, you should be able to discipline him.”

I scowled at my phone. “Really not helpful, Jihyun.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jihyun complained. “I want to tell you that you’re crazy for thinking you’re at war with a kid, but you’re clearly not listening to me. None of this is rational. I don’t know how I can possibly help.”

I sighed. “You’re right. I’m over-thinking this. He’s eight. How hard can it be to win him over?”

“That’s the spirit,” Jihyun cheered. “Alright, my break’s over. Let me know how it went tonight!”

I hung up, steeling myself with another deep breath. Some of the kids were already starting to spill out of the school gates, and I kept my eyes on the entry way in case I missed Jeha. I only had to wait a few more minutes before the boy appeared, his eyes scanning the row of adults. When his gaze landed on me, his face visibly fell. This time, his dad wasn’t around, so there was no need to hide his disdain. He dragged his feet as he came up to me, bowing half-heartedly.

I forced a bright smile onto my face, determined not to let him get me down. “Hi, Jeha. Your appa had an important meeting and ahjumma is sick, so it’s just you and me today. What shall we do?”

Jeha looked up at me. “Can’t we just go home?”

“Your father said you need to get lunch first,” I pointed out. Technically, I could also bring him home and cook for him, but my cooking skills were abysmal and it was too early in our relationship for either father or son to find out. “What do you want to eat?”

He shrugged. “Anything.”

I forced myself to hold in the sigh that was forming. How was I supposed to know what he liked? I thought about it for a second. “How about fast food?” Kids loved fast food, right? How could I go wrong with fast food?

Jeha just shrugged again. “Okay.”

There was a fast food restaurant nearby, so we walked there together. We had to take a short walk, and there was a short queue, so the silence wasn’t that painful. It was when we had sat down with our burgers in front of us that I really started to feel the awkwardness.

“So…” I said, trying to break the tension. “How was school?”

“It was okay.”

He didn’t even look up at me when he said that. He wasn’t rude by any means. His tone was polite, and he used honorifics, but it was obvious that he had no desire to continue the conversation.

“Oookay,” I exhaled. “Learnt anything new?”

“Multiplication. Grammar. We also learnt about the life cycle of a fly.”

I perked up. “That’s interesting.” It wasn’t, but I was grasping at straws. “Tell me about that.”

“I don’t want you to marry my appa.”

I nearly choked on my burger. He was finally giving me something, but it was the last thing that I’d expected to come out of his mouth. “W-h… What?”

“Don’t marry him,” Jeha repeated. “We’re supposed to be a family. Me, him and umma. Not you.”

Wow, this kid really had a way with words. “I’m not marrying your appa, Jeha,” I said gently. “We’re just hanging out. Like friends, but closer. Like partners. We can support each other, and…”

“We don’t need you,” Jeha insisted. “We’re fine on our own.”

I swallowed, trying not to show him that his words were affecting me. “Jeha, your appa has been alone for a while, and he can get lonely. I know he has you, but he can also have a companion, an adult, beside him. Not to replace your umma, but—”

The moment the words were out of my mouth, I knew I had said something wrong. That was the trigger, the mention of his mother. Before I could stop it, something in the kid snapped.

“I don’t want you to be my umma!” he hollered at the top of his lungs. His hand lashed out, and he knocked his drink over, causing the liquid to spill all over the table and onto the floor.

I panicked, grabbing at napkins to try to mop up the mess. His face was red now, and he was sniffling, but there was nothing I could do. I felt like bursting into tears myself. The other patrons of the restaurant were staring at us now, and I could only imagine what they were thinking. “Stay here,” I whispered to Jeha, before rushing to the counter to get more napkins. One of the staff members eventually came over with a mop, and I could only bow my head, apologizing repeatedly. It was hands down the most embarrassing moment of my entire life, but that feeling was trumped by the feeling of dread that had settled itself deeply in the pits of my stomach. I could no longer look at Jeha in the eye. I wrapped up his abandoned burger (in case he got hungry later), shoved some napkins and him, and herded him out of the restaurant. One silent cab ride later, we reached Jinyoung’s apartment. The moment I got the front door open, he disappeared into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

When I was sure that he wasn’t coming out, I sat down in the living room and let myself cry.

Jinyoung came home barely an hour later. I was still in the same spot, and he just had to take one look at me to know that something was up. He tried to put his arms around me. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

I pushed him away. Now that he was back, I could finally get the hell out of this place. “I can’t, Jinyoung. I can’t.”

I bolted from his apartment, leaving him sitting there and wondering what on earth had happened.

---

Jinyoung called that night.

I was lying in bed, hoping that my sheets would just swallow me whole so I didn’t have to go out and face the world again, when my phone rang. I considered not answering it, because I didn’t want to deal with anything that he had to say, but I saw the contact photo on my phone screen and my heart softened.

I missed him. I felt like complete and utter crap, and he was the only person in the world who could make me feel better. Even if he’d indirectly caused the pain in the first place.

I answered.

“Hey.”

His voice was heavy, and I just knew in my heart that he wasn’t going to be able to give me the comfort I needed.

“You there?” he asked when I didn’t respond.

“Mm.”

On the other end, he was silent too. Then, he let out a low sigh. “I spoke to Jeha.”

“I see.”

“I’m really sorry. No matter what he was feeling, that’s no way for him to behave. I’m punishing him by reducing his computer time, and he’s going to write you an apology letter.”

“It’s alright, he doesn’t need to.”

“He does,” Jinyoung insisted. “I don’t punish him nearly enough and he’s a brat. I’m sorry.”

An uncomfortable silence fell. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. I kind of wanted to ask him what this meant for the both of us, but I was too afraid to because I had a feeling I knew what his answer would be. I didn’t have to ask anyway, because Jinyoung knew what was on my mind.

He always did. He got me in a way that no one else ever did.

“Ryeowon,” he said quietly, and I knew what was coming. I felt the heaviness in his voice in a place deep within me. I knew, and I understood. “I really, really like you. These past couple of months, I’ve been really happy. You helped me open up my heart in a way I never thought was possible after I lost my wife.”

“I know,” I said, biting my bottom lip to keep my voice steady. The tears were already threatening to fall, but I didn’t want him to hear that. “You’ve made me really happy too.”

“If things were different…” his voice cracked, and I could tell that this conversation was as hard for him as it was for me. “I mean, I just… I’m so sorry I started this when I knew there was a chance I could hurt you. It’s just… Jeha is my first priority, and he always will be.”

“I know,” I assured him. “You don’t have to apologize for that.”

“I’m sorry anyway,” Jinyoung replied softly. “You deserve so much more than I can give you.”

I wished he wouldn’t say that, because it wasn’t true. The relationship I’d had with him, however short-lived, was possibly the best I’d ever had. It was my first real relationship, one that was based on trust and mutual support, and was unlike any of my previous toxic, unhealthy ones. With Jinyoung, I felt like I could finally believe that soulmates actually existed. But of course, like everything else in my life, it was too good to be true. I had found the perfect man for me, but I couldn’t have him because someone else had found him first.

Story of my life.

“I think it’s for the best if we just… end things here.”

That opened the floodgates. I knew they were coming, but nevertheless, hearing those words hurt so much that for a moment, I was paralyzed. I pursed my lips, trying to hold it in so he couldn’t hear me breaking down. I tried to take in deep breaths through my nose.

“Ryeowon… you still there?”

“Yes,” I managed to choke out. “I… yeah. I understand.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

We both fell silent again. What was there left to say? None of my previous relationships had ended like this, so I had no idea how to end this conversation. I couldn’t very well scream at him like how I did with all my exes and ask him to go to hell, since he hadn’t done anything wrong. This was the most mature, adult break-up I’d ever had, and I was out of my element. It felt contrived to thank him for the memories, and I couldn’t offer to remain friends because I knew I could never be friends with him. I’d fallen too deeply in love with him for us to turn back.

Wow. Love. It was the first time I’d thought of it that way. What perfect timing to realize that I was in love with someone, right after he’d broken up with me.

Again, story of my life.

“I guess… I’ll see you around at the café?” he said first, after a long pause.

“Yeah. Bye, Jinyoung.”

Have a nice life.

“Bye, Ryeowon.”

---

“You need to get the fuck out of this place.”

I squinted against the bright light as Jihyun yanked the blinds open. Next, she went for the blanket that I had over me, leaving me exposed on the couch that I had in my studio.

“When was the last time you had a proper meal?” she demanded, wrinkling her nose in disdain at the empty ramyun cups that littered the table. “Or a shower?”

“Leave me alone,” I grumbled, trying to bury my head under a cushion.

Jihyun yanked that away from me too. “Yeah, that’s the problem. I’ve left you alone for way too long. Get your ass off that couch right now.”

The tone of her voice told me that she meant business. Jihyun was a straight talker, but she rarely got angry at me. Right now, she was definitely angry and ready to fight me. I could tell. Which was why I reluctantly dragged my heavy body into an upright position. “Happy?”

“Far from it,” she snapped. “What the fuck is this? You haven’t been answering my calls, you stopped going to the café… Are you trying to kill yourself? Over a failed relationship?”

“I’ve been working,” I refuted, standing and walking over to my workspace, where almost a dozen completed paintings were lined up neatly. “Apparently failed relationships are really good sources of inspiration.”

Jihyun sighed loudly as she scanned the pieces. “What the hell, Ryeowon? Have you run out of colors?”

I hadn’t planned for it to turn out this way, but now, looking at my paintings, I realized she was right. The entire collection of them had been completed using only black, white, and varying shades of gray. “It… It’s an artistic choice.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Jihyun stated, rounding on me. “Babe, this isn’t healthy. It’s been weeks since the break-up. You can’t just hide in here surrounded by all these dark thoughts and dark paintings. How are you going to move on if you don’t start living your life normally again?”

“I’m living normally,” I insisted defensively. “I’ve been working.”

“You haven’t stepped into your usual café since the break-up. I asked Jaebum.”

That was a valid point, but there was a good reason for that. Jinyoung had said he’d see me around at the café, and I didn’t want to actually see him until I was ready so… I just haven’t gone.

“I can make coffee here,” I said, folding my arms.

“I bought you that coffee machine three years ago when you rented this space, and you never touched it,” Jihyun pointed out. “Come on, you need to get out. Meet people. Talk to people.”

“You know I hate that.”

“Communication is a fundamental human need, Ryeowon,” Jihyun said. “You need to do it so you don’t go crazy.” She sighed again as she faced me. “I know it’s hard, but you have to get over him.”

“I’m over him,” I said in a small voice, but because she was my closest friend in the world, she didn’t believe me.

“I know he was special,” she said, her voice softening. “But you can’t romanticize the idea of him and trap yourself in this spiral. At the end of the day, he’s just another guy who wasn’t meant to be. He’s a stop on your journey, and you need to get back up and keep moving on. You’ll find someone better. Someone with less baggage.”

I still couldn’t bear the mention of Jinyoung, so I nodded, even though I didn’t fully agree with her. “I know. I’m trying.”

“Good,” she said, with a small smile. “So no more moping. Let’s go out to dinner tonight. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I said, holding my arms open for a hug. I was lucky I had Jihyun in my life. Even if all the relationships in my life didn’t work out, I still had my best friend. Sometimes, I just needed a reminder of that.

She wrinkled her nose and stepped away from me. “After you take a shower, stinky.”

---

“Hi, are you Ryeowon?”

I looked up in curiosity at the man who was standing in front of me. “Um… yes?”

“Hi, my name is Bam Bam. I’m a friend of Jihyun’s.”

I stared at the lanky stranger as he pulled out the chair in front of me and sat down. Why was he sitting down? I was supposed to be meeting Jihyun for dinner at this restaurant, and she hadn’t told me she was bringing a friend. I’d asked for a table for two, so if her friend was here… It took me a moment before realization dawned on me.

Damn Jihyun. She’d set me up on a blind date.

The hypothesis was further confirmed when Bam Bam held out an ostentatious bouquet of roses. “Here, I brought these for you.”

“Uh, thanks.”

I was immensely annoyed at her. Why did she do these things to me? And why did she think I would be interested in this guy? Sure, he was handsome and built like a model, but his style was way too flashy. He had on a blazer with sequined details, and his ears were adorned with dangling silver earrings. His shirt was unbuttoned way too low, and I think he was wearing more make-up than I was. Not to mention, his hair was platinum blond and he was wearing shades even though it was night time. Where did she even meet this guy? On the runway at Seoul Fashion Week?

“You’re prettier in person than in the photo Jihyun showed me,” Bam Bam said with a charming smile, taking off his glasses and setting them down on the table.

My irritation only spiked. She showed him a photo of me? Which one?!

“Thanks… I guess?” I said through gritted teeth. “Pardon my surprise. I had no idea I was being set up on a blind date.”

Bam Bam was unfazed by that. “Oh, yeah, Jihyun did mention you might be a bit… resistant. But it’s all good. We can just have dinner as two friends who just met. No pressure.”

“Right.” He was right. I could have dinner with him. And then kill Jihyun later.

Dinner with Bam Bam wasn’t all bad. He was an entertaining character, and I could see that he’d be a fun friend to have around if I was in a group. One on one, he was just a little… much. He talked a lot about himself, and laughed a little too loudly at his own jokes. Long story short, I could tell why he was single and needed his friends to set him up on blind dates. In the history of blind dates, it wasn’t the worst date. It just wasn’t one of the good ones.

My eyes were wandering while Bam Bam launched into another anecdote about one of his restaurants (he was a restaurateur, not a model) when they landed on something that made my heart stop. Walking through the door, looking as breathtakingly handsome as the last time I’d seen him, was Jinyoung.

I cursed my luck that there were only like, two good restaurants in this neighborhood. Why else would I run into him here, of all places, when I’d been trying so hard to avoid him this whole time? And I also cursed Jihyun because if she’d just let me stay cocooned in my studio, this wouldn’t have happened. Especially not while I was on this blind date that she’d tricked me into.

It took a while for him to spot me. He looked like he’d just popped in to get some takeout, and he stayed at the counter, ordering and paying. Then, as the service staff left to prepare his order, he scanned the restaurant and caught sight of me. I felt like I should have pretended not to see him, or at the very least, made some attempt to hide that ridiculous bouquet on my table that just screamed that I was on a date, but I couldn’t help freezing when our eyes locked across the room. He was in a long coat and had a cap on, but I could still see that he’d lost a bit of weight. There was a hint of a five o’clock shadow on his face. I thought I saw a flash of betrayal in his eyes, and for a moment, I felt guilty.

“Hello, Ryeowon? What are you looking at?”

Bam Bam’s voice pulled me back to the conversation at hand, and I turned to face him once more. “Nothing. Just thought I saw someone I know, but I must be mistaken.”

“Happens to me all the time,” Bam Bam chortled. “As I was saying, this is Latte, and this is Pudding…”

I feigned interest as Bam Bam leaned over to show me pictures of his cats on his phone. When I finally got a moment to glance back over at the counter, Jinyoung was gone. There was an empty feeling in my heart, but at least it didn’t hurt anymore. Time seemed to have dulled the pain from our break-up. I looked at Bam Bam again and told myself I didn’t have to feel guilty. Sure, it was a little soon, but we were broken up, and I had every right to date someone new. I had no interest in the man right in front of me, but I could date him if I wanted to. I had done nothing wrong.

That was what I told myself.

But at the end of the night, after I had said goodbye to Bam Bam with empty promises of meeting up again and returned to the cold silence of my room, I still cried myself to sleep.

---

More time passed, and I was, slowly but surely, healing.

I was still avoiding Jus Coffee, but I’d found another place to get my caffeine fix. Just one block down, a small coffee place had opened up. It wasn’t a café, just a small takeaway window, and I passed by it every day on my way from home to studio. It was so hipster that it didn’t even have a name, and I knew it by the number 2 that hung above the window, signifying the unit number of the store. It was run by a friendly barista, Yugyeom, and I hit my daily communication quota by chatting with him while he made my coffee.

Colors were finding their way back into my paintings too. Okay, maybe just some blues and purples to add dimension to my black and white paintings, but it was a start. The whole collection was starting to come together too. I had channeled all my heartbreak onto the canvas, and there was something incredibly therapeutic about watching the artwork take shape. My agent would be happy with this series too. This time, there would be a real lost-love story he could tell potential buyers.

It also no longer felt as if my heart was being ripped in two when I thought about Jinyoung during long nights. Every night, it hurt less and less. I was on the road to making a full recovery.

That all came to a head one day, when I was making my daily coffee run.

“Hey, Yugyeom, I’m here for my daily long black!” I called, popping my head into the window. My smile quickly died when I saw that Yugyeom wasn’t alone. There was someone else very unexpected standing beside him behind the counter. “Oh. Hey, Jaebum.” For some weird reason, I felt like I was cheating on him. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other.”

“He was my senior in high school,” Yugyeom said cheerfully. “Let me get you your coffee.”

“Thanks,” I said awkwardly. If he went to the same high school as Jaebum, that meant that he probably also knew Jinyoung.

“Didn’t expect this twerp to open up a shop right down the block from me and steal my customers,” Jaebum commented with a laugh. “Is his coffee really better than mine?”

“I, uh… I’ve been busy,” I said, feeling weird that I had to make up excuses to explain why I was buying coffee from another joint. “This place is a bit more convenient.”

Jaebum laughed. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I was just kidding.”

I laughed awkwardly. “What are you doing here, instead of at your own café?”

“Actually, I was looking for you,” Jaebum said. “I didn’t have a way to reach you, and by chance, Yugyeom and I were talking and he mentioned your name. Since your name is pretty unique, I thought there was a high chance that it might actually be you.”

I was confused. “You’re looking for me? Why?”

“Ah, it’s not for myself,” Jaebum clarified. “I’m doing someone else a favor.” He craned his neck to look out of the window. “Where’s that fella? The convenience store isn’t that far from here… There he is. That’s the person who wants to meet you.”

I turned in the direction he was pointing, and my stomach sank like a brick.

“Hello, Ryeowon-ssaem.” The boy held out one of the ice-cream cones he was holding in his hands. “This is for you.”

I was confused as hell. I looked back at Jaebum for help, but he just raised his eyebrows at me. Realizing that I was leaving the kid hanging, I took the outstretched offering. “Um, thanks.”

Behind me, Jaebum held out his hand too. “My change?”

Jeha scurried past me to drop some change in Jaebum’s hand.

“Thank you,” Jaebum said with a smile. “Now, didn’t you say you had something you wanted to say to Ryeowon-ssaem?”

Jeha nodded. “Yes. Ryeowon-ssaem, can I talk to you?”

The whole situation was just so baffling. Given the way our last conversation had ended, Jeha was the last person that I expected to be reaching out first. Yet, here he was, looking somewhat morose as he peered at me from under his long lashes. I had to admit, I was actually a little scared, but I couldn’t say no. And that was how we found ourselves sitting side by side on the curb in front of Yugyeom’s store.

“I need to tell you that I’m sorry,” Jeha said quickly, without beating around the bush. He sounded nervous and his words sounded as if he’d rehearsed them. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you and said hurtful things to you. You were being nice to me, and I was rude and ungrateful. I’m very sorry.”

I smiled awkwardly. “It’s okay, I forgive you. Your appa said you were punished and you had to write a letter. You don’t actually have to meet me face to face to apologize.”

“I know, but I wanted to,” Jeha responded, reminding me again how mature he was for an eight-year-old. “Other than saying I’m sorry, I also wanted to ask you for a favor.”

That caused a feeling of unease. “You do? What is it?”

“Please be with my appa again.”

I could only stare at him in bewilderment, surprised at his proclamation. “What?”

“I was scared,” Jeha explained. “I thought that you were going to take my appa away. He was sad for a long after umma was gone, but he was happy when you were together. I know you’re not trying to replace umma but I was worried he was going to forget her.”

“He will never forget her, Jeha,” I assured him. “She’s a huge part of your lives and she always will be. But it doesn’t mean that your appa has to be sad forever to remember her.”

“I know that now,” Jeha answered. “I was being selfish and I wasn’t thinking about how he felt. It’s been a long time since he was happy, but he was happy because he cared about you and you cared about him. You made things better for him, but I ruined it.”

Wow. For a moment, I was just speechless. I was blown away at how reflective the kid was. Was he supposed to be like this? Were other eight-year-olds also like this? “Jeha, it’s not your fault,” I explained to him carefully. And it wasn’t. At the end of the day, I had been too scared to accept everything that came along with Jinyoung, and he’d been too scared to fight for me. The kid had been a trigger, but he wasn’t the only problem. “Sometimes, when adults are together, problems arise. Your appa and I were happy for a while, but if we continue, we might not be. And when we don’t see a future together, it’s alright for us to part. We both made that decision, not you.”

“But you wouldn’t have made that decision if I didn’t scream at you.”

“We can’t know that,” I pointed out with a chuckle. “Either ways, we both thought about it, and we decided that this was for the best. It’s not your fault at all, Jeha. Okay?”

Jeha blinked, clearly confused and not satisfied with my answer. “If this is for the best, then why is Appa so sad?”

My smile faltered. Was he still upset over the break-up? It��d been months by now, and I’d thought that I was slow in my recovery, but even then, I was starting to feel good about myself again. I’d worried about how Jinyoung was doing, of course, but I’d always assumed that he’d be able to get back on his feet quicker than I did, simply because he had more things to worry about in his life.

“He doesn’t go out anymore,” Jeha continued. “He goes to work and then he comes home, and he just lies on the couch for hours at a time, staring at the ceiling. He tries to go out with me, but he’s always so tired and restless. When he smiles or laughs, I can tell that he’s pretending. I think he’s sad because he misses you.”

That did sound bad. It also sounded a lot like how I was the first few weeks. All I wanted to do was to curl up and forget that I could no longer seek shelter in his warm embrace, or feel his loving kisses on my forehead, or hear his deep laughter beside my ear. I hated everything that reminded me of him. I couldn’t look at a book, I couldn’t wear knitted sweaters, and I didn’t even want to let in sunlight because anything warm and bright reminded me of him.

But it got better. It eventually did. And it eventually will for Jinyoung. As much as my heart ached, I knew that I wasn’t the right person to make things better for him.

“Jeha, I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I can’t escape the blame for your appa feeling so down, and I care about him, I really do. But I also want you to know that us being together again is not the answer. If we’re not right for each other, this is going to happen again in the future.” And also, if Jinyoung wanted me back, he knew where to find me. The fact that he’d been avoiding me as much as I had been avoiding him meant that he knew this too. Getting over each other was a battle we had to fight alone.

“But…”

“I know it’s hard to understand,” I told him. “But I’m not the person who can help him feel better, Jeha. You are. You’re the most important person in his life, and if you’re happy and healthy, he’ll be happy too. Can you be strong for him, Jeha?”

Jeha didn’t look like he fully agreed with me, but he nodded anyway. “Does this mean you won’t see us again?”

That hit me a little harder than I thought it would. Yeah, I guess this was it. I forced a smile. How could I break his heart when he was looking at me with that adorable pout that was a splitting image of his father’s? “Of course not. My offer for you to come to my studio to make art still stands. I’ll call you when I have time, okay?”

Even as I said it, I knew I was making a promise I had no intention of keeping.

---

I pulled on the handle of the door, rattling it even though I already knew it was locked. I peered in through the glass, hoping to catch sight of someone, but the lights were off and it was empty.

Exactly the same as it had been the last three times I’d checked.

I sighed and pulled out my phone, calling Jaebum again but like the last three times, it rang on and on with nobody picking up. He’d forced my number out of me that time he’d ambushed me at Yugyeom’s, claiming he might need it ‘for emergencies’, but thankfully hadn’t used it. At least, not until last night, when he’d said that he needed to talk to me and asked me to meet him here, at his café. I’d arrived on time, despite every rational cell in my body telling me that I shouldn’t even be here, and I was quickly regretting it.

His café didn’t even open on Tuesdays.

I shoved my phone back into my pocket, genuinely pissed. He was going to get it from me the next time I saw him. I didn’t even know him that well. I had no idea why he thought it would be fun to pull a prank on me.

I was turning to leave when the sight of someone walking towards me made me freeze.

It was Jinyoung.

He was looking at a bunch of keys in his hand, and didn’t even see me until he was two steps away from me. He was in a casual sweatshirt and jeans, with a cap on his head and a face mask obscuring the bottom half of his face. When he spotted me, he stopped short. Then, he slowly pulled down the mask, as if he felt the need to identify himself.

“Oh,” he said breathlessly. “Hey.”

I didn’t know what to do with myself. “Um, hey.”

We both stood there, staring in silence at each other for a moment. He looked worse than the last time I’d seen him, now that I was looking at him up close. He used to be really sensitive about his facial hair, and would shave a second time in a day if he felt even a hint of stubble. Now, it looked like he’d let it grow for a few days and it was rough and patchy. His face looked gaunt and there were bags under his eyes. There was a frizzy tuft of hair sticking out under his cap that indicated that he’d pulled on the cap hurriedly to hide his messy, unstyled hair. This was a far cry from the poised, put-together Jinyoung that I used to know.

“Wha-uh…” He scratched the back of his neck, looking at me, but not quite meeting my eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Jaebum asked me to meet him here,” I said, ignoring the way my heart was beginning to hurt again the longer I stood there looking at him. “I had no idea he, um…”

“Oh, he was meeting you?” Jinyoung asked, surprised. “He said there was an emergency and he needed me to come unlock the door for him. Was there something you needed?”

I shook my head. “No. I actually haven’t been here in a while. He just told me to meet him here without explaining anything, and now he won’t answer my calls.”

The corners of Jinyoung’s lips twitched as realization dawned upon him. “Ah… I see. It looks like he’s done it again.”

I was confused for a moment, but seeing his raised eyebrows, I finally got the message. He’d done this on purpose, so that we would meet. Again. “Dammit. And I fell for it again.”

Jinyoung let out a light chuckle. “So did I. He’s a real meddler, isn’t he?”

“He really is,” I huffed. “I don’t know him very well, but I don’t think I like him very much.”

Jinyoung jingled the keys in his hands. “In that case, shall we take revenge? For all the years I’ve known him, he’s never even offered me a free coffee.”

Just for a split second, I hesitated. I didn’t feel confident enough to be alone with Jinyoung just yet. But with the way he was looking at me hopefully, I just couldn’t say no to him. “Sure. I’ve always thought he overcharged for coffee anyway.”

Jinyoung opened the door of the café and we went inside. I took a seat at the bar, while Jinyoung went behind the counter, switching on equipment with a practiced ease. I allowed myself to indulge in the sight of him grinding coffee beans like a pro. “This look suits you,” I couldn’t stop myself from teasing. “Barista Nyoung.”

Jinyoung cracked a smile. “I’m a man of many talents.”

“I’ll judge for myself after I’ve tasted the coffee,” I quipped. For just a second, I allowed myself to bask in the moment we’d just shared. It felt good, to be able to talk to each other in this light-hearted manner again. I wondered if I’d been worried for nothing. Maybe it was possible for us to be friends.

He finished making two cups of coffee and went around the counter to sit beside me. That felt slightly awkward, even though he made sure to keep a respectful distance between the two of us. I took a sip of the coffee just to fill the empty silence.

“How is it?”

I nodded. “It’s pretty good.”

He nodded too. “Good.”

We both fell silent again. I stared at my coffee, not really wanting to look at him, but I could feel him doing the exact opposite. His body was slightly angled towards me, and I could sense that he was staring at me.

“You look good,” he said after a long time.

“Thanks,” I replied awkwardly, glancing at him. “You too.”

“You don’t have to lie,” Jinyoung said with a bitter smile. He rubbed his chin self-consciously. “I look like a mess.”

I couldn’t even dispute that, so I said nothing and took another sip of coffee.

“So, how’s you and uh…” He scrunched his nose up. “Bam Bam, right?”

My head snapped towards him in astonishment. “What? How did you…”

“I saw you on a date,” Jinyoung admitted. He probably wasn’t sure that I’d seen him too. “And, I uh… I just asked someone. He’s pretty well-known in these parts.”

That, I had no doubt about. During our date, we had been interrupted multiple times by people who had recognized him and just come to say hi. “It wasn’t a real date,” I said sheepishly. “Or, it kinda was, but not… Jihyun set me up. Without telling me.”

“Oh,” Jinyoung said. I wasn’t quite sure if that was glee I detected in his tone. “So… you’re not still seeing him?”

I shook my head. “No. He’s not my type.” I wanted to add that he should know that, but I didn’t.

“I thought so too,” Jinyoung mused. “But I wasn’t sure.”

There was more I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him to give me a bit more credit and that I wouldn’t have moved on so quickly, but we were interrupted by the sound of both our phones going off at the same time.

“It’s Jaebum,” I said, looking at the screen of my phone. I opened the text message that he’d sent.

Just a disclaimer: I wasn’t the mastermind.

There was a photograph attached, and when I opened it, it was a picture of him and Jeha, both of them grinning cheekily for the camera. I looked up at Jinyoung, and he held out his phone to me, to show me that he’d gotten the exact same message.

“Now he’s even corrupting your son,” I complained. “You should really re-assess your friendship.”

Jinyoung chuckled. “I don’t know. I feel like I need him. He’s always the one who gives me a push when I’m too afraid to go after what I want.”

I looked at him, feeling my mouth turn dry. He wasn’t joking anymore. I could tell by his expression.

“I was always painfully shy,” Jinyoung explained. “When I met my wife, I had the biggest crush on her. We took the same classes for two years, but I didn’t even dare to say hi. It was Jaebum who introduced us. When I graduated, I really wanted to work for my current company, but I didn’t have the confidence to apply because my grades weren’t fantastic and they were the top publishing house in the country. Jaebum was the one who sent in my resume. He was always there for all the important moments in my life, helping me find the courage to make major decisions. He was there when I proposed, he was there when Jeha was born, and he was there when my wife passed. He was the one who made me talk to you, and that’s still something I’m extremely grateful for.”

“Technically, he made me talk to you,” I pointed out with a small smile.

He, too, smiled at the memory. “And that was the push I needed. Today, too… It looks like he’s done it again. I was too much of a coward to call you, even though I was dying to talk to you. It’s like he knew what I wanted, even without me saying it.”

My heart was pounding in my chest now. This was the reason why I’d been avoiding him. I couldn’t listen to him say these things. “You could have called. If you wanted to talk. I would have answered.”

“I wanted to,” Jinyoung said, looking sad. “So many times. When things got hard, all I wanted was to hear your voice. But how could I? I’d hurt you so much. I couldn’t be selfish and stop you from moving on.”

There were so many emotions swirling within me that I couldn’t even begin to process them. “I thought you didn’t call because you wanted a clean break. Because you didn’t want me back.”

“That’s bullshit,” Jinyoung said, looking pained. “There’s nothing I want more than to have you beside me again, but how can I? I have nothing to offer you, and you deserve so much better.”

“Stop saying that,” I chided, feeling tears well up. “You keep saying that, but you can’t decide for me what I want, or what I deserve. You broke up with me without even asking me what I wanted.”

Jinyoung looked down, ashamed. “I know, and I’m sorry. It just didn’t seem fair that you had to make such a big sacrifice to be with me. And I can’t change my circumstances. I’ve been married before, and I have a child…”

“Did you think of asking me if I was willing to make such a sacrifice?” I asked. “If I minded any of that?”

“Well, did you?”

He’d asked that so suddenly that I was stunned. We stared at each other for a long while. Mixed within the hurt and pain was now a hint of hope. But I knew I couldn’t let myself get carried away in the moment and make another empty promise. “Jinyoung… Our break-up wasn’t entirely your fault. I was scared. I don’t know if I was ready to make that decision. I just wished you didn’t make it for me.”

Jinyoung’s shoulders slumped. “I know. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have rushed things before you were both ready. Both you and Jeha suffered because I was greedy.”

I couldn’t disagree. “Maybe. But I understand where you were coming from. I mean, you really love Jeha—”

“And you,” he interrupted me, his eyes unwavering. “I also love you.”

That took the wind out of my lungs again. Firstly, he’d never said that before, when we were dating. Secondly, he’d said it in the present tense. Love, not loved.

“Are you that surprised?” he asked, his forehead creasing just the slightest. “What I feel towards you is strong, and powerful. It’s not some silly fling that I can get over easily. When I saw you on that date, looking so cozy with another man, I thought I was going to die.”

I couldn’t believe that he was saying all these things now, of all times, after we’d already broken up. Frankly, I was a bit annoyed. This was exactly how it’d been at the beginning, when he’d been too much of a coward to talk to me, and I’d had to make the first move. And then again, after he kissed me and pretended that it didn’t happen. I was done with him being so confusing and just saying all these things to sway me, and then doing absolutely nothing about it. I folded my arms over my chest. “Then say it.”

He looked confused. “Say what?”

“You want me back, right?” I asked, eyebrow raised. “Then ask me. Ask me to take you back.”

I could see the conflicting emotions that flashed through his mind. “I… I can’t.”

“Then you won’t have me back. Ever.”

“Ryeowon…”

“You don’t have the right to say all these things to me if you’re not going to ask me,” I stated shortly. “How do you know that I’m going to say yes? If I feel like I’ll be suffering by being with you, I can say no. The point is, I have the right to decide. When you don’t ask me, you take that away from me.” He tried to say something, but I was on a roll. “And when you don’t ask, you never make your intentions known. For all I know, you’re not willing to fight to make things work.”

“I am,” Jinyoung insisted desperately. “It’s just…” He took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’ve been incredibly selfish. I need to learn how to just put my feelings out there, even if it means getting hurt.”

“I’ve always done that with you,” I said softly. “I never held back when I was with you.”

“And that’s something I love about you,” Jinyoung responded. “You’re so much braver and stronger than I am.” He took off his cap and ran a hand through his unruly hair. “This break-up really wrecked me big-time, but look at you…”

I snorted. “What? If you’d seen me two weeks ago…”

“I’m sure you would have been just as beautiful as you are now,” Jinyoung said, smiling fondly at me. He reached out to clasp my hands in his. “I love you. I really, really do.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “And…?”

“I’ve been an idiot,” he continued. “But please, can we try again? I promise this time, I won’t pressure you into anything you’re not ready for, and I won’t make assumptions and decisions—”

“Stop,” I cut him off, unable to stop the smile from tugging at my lips. “No explanations, no putting yourself down. Get straight to the point.”

He chuckled, his hands tightening around mine just slightly. “Please, Ryeowon, will you take me back?”

“I’m scared too,” I admitted. “There’s no guarantee that it’ll work out, or that there’ll be a future for us. There are a million and one things that could possibly go wrong. But I’m willing to try together, to work things out.”

“No explanations,” Jinyoung teased. “Get straight to the point. A simple yes or no would suffice.”

I scowled, snatching my hands away from him, and he burst out laughing, before tugging me to him. For the first time since we’d started talking, his smile actually reached the corners of his eyes. He pulled me closer, and kissed me in a way that had me melting into him.

I’d missed him so much. For a long time, it’d felt like I was cold and empty inside, but now, he was here and he was mine again, and it was making me feel warmth I never thought imaginable. It felt like I’d spent a long day out in the cold, and then wandered into a café and now had a steaming cup of long black in my hands.

For the first time in my life, sitting there with Jinyoung in that café, I finally understood what love felt like:

A cup of coffee.

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