If there was something that Kyungsoo loved most, it would be sitting quietly on a stool behind a high table, a faint clear smoke dancing upwards from his cup, and a sweet, pungent aroma that filled his senses and kept him awake. He loved hearing the soft chatters from the other customers, as well as the distant sound of the mixing appliances the staff used to make frappes. He loved the mix of calmness and warmth his drink makes him feel and the hectic activity amongst customers that come and go, like every single day.

He loved every single thing in that cafe – a shelf that housed the classics he enjoyed reading over and over, a few usual customers he had a chance to chat with, and of course, the friendly Soojung who made his perfect cup of coffee.

Staying there was a routine, and Kyungsoo loved routines. He was the kind of man who wakes up before his alarm, finishes bathroom activities in an hour sharp, grabs his bag and heads out the apartment to go to his favourite cafe, says a casual hello to anyone who man the counters, and takes his seat as he waits for his usual cup and a slice of whatever the sandwich of the day was. He’ll have to stay there until the afternoon and make something productive out of his time, and get to wherever he needs to be, and be home after the sun has set. The routine repeats to the next day.

He loved fixing and making habits – a day by day practice, a sort of commitment to something he wants to be permanent part of his life, like how he arranges his clothes, or by how he uses the same font for every song he wrote, or even how he fixes the table where his laptop, a few books, his mobile, a set of pen and paper, and his cup of coffee were. Someone said it takes twenty one days to make a habit, and it was true for Kyungsoo. It takes another twenty one days to break it and cancel it out of his system, but somehow, the habit of coming to the same cafe was something he was never able to break, even if he didn’t come for three weeks. He just kept coming back for that one mug of steaming coffee.

Ah, his favourite cup – a steaming cup of Americano to start his day. He used to hate it though, the first time he tasted it. It was nothing but bitterness that exploded in his mouth. Even the burn in his tongue was a permanent memory of the first time he tasted it.

It was a day he’ll never forget.

Three years ago.

It was a usual day for Kyungsoo. He woke up at exactly seven in the morning, beating his alarm by fifteen minutes, and then took a quick shower to start his day. He was thinking of staying in one of the newest bubble tea places in the heart of the city, but clearly doubted his palate whatever it was searching for at the moment. He wanted something strong, but it was too early for a shot of whiskey or a bottle of beer. He didn’t want a sweet tea in cold milk either.

He left his apartment at nine dressed in casual black jeans and sweatshirt with his face hidden under a snapback, his bag slung over his right shoulder. That day, he has to finish a script for a musical he’s working on – his routine, his job. It may not be an eight to five kind of job, but he makes enough for a living out of writing and rewriting for theatre.

Kyungsoo, completely dropping the idea of bubble tea, opted to walk around the neighbourhood to find newly popped places. The neighbourhood he was in was the kind where casual cafes open for a short time and closes due to lack of frequent customers. It was too busy that the citizens living in the area don’t really have time to sit in a cafe and savour a warm cup of coffee before their day started. It was fast paced community - that Kyungsoo realized.

Amazingly, though, there was a newly opened cafe just three blocks away from his place. He realized what he wanted that day, when a stranger passed by him with a red cup hugged by both his hands, sipping carefully the hot liquid from it.

Coffee.

He pushed opened the door and a bell rings, and a few eyes looked at him, including a pair of brown orbs that belonged to a man who wore an apron on his chest, the name of the cafe printed on it. He was tall, much taller that Kyungsoo, and he was leaning on the bookshelf just beside the counter, with a book in hand. The man quickly closes the book and pushed it back the shelf, and walked back to his station behind the register.

“Morning!” The guy greeted. The place was neat, Kyungsoo thought. The place smelled great, and the lighting wasn’t dim at all. It was a perfect place to relax and work at the same time. He quickly dashed to the counter, excited for a cup of something new.

“What can I get you?” The guy behind the cashier asked. He was smiling sweetly, a childish kind of smile – the one high schoolers wear when they show off or something like that – and it distracted Kyungsoo for a second.

“What’s the house special?” Kyungsoo then asked, unsure of what to order. He wasn’t much of a coffee drinker anyway since he loved tea, but he sure does try anything.

“Would you like to drink something hot or iced? Sweet, bitter, or just the perfect blend? Which one is it? Don’t you think what’s special doesn’t depend on the house but on the drinker himself?” The guy asked back. Kyungsoo was utterly intrigued as to where the conversation was heading to. It was funny to him how they were getting somewhere even with an exchange of questions with no answers. He decided to answer with another question.

“Well, what do you think a man like me would like?” He smiled back.

“Would you like me to fix you something to show what I think?” The guy asked again. Kyungsoo was left speechless, he didn’t know why. He wasn’t the kind to be in long conversations anyway. He’s a little scared of being around people, but being a grown up meant to be living with it.

“Okay.”

After a short while sitting on the spot he chose, the seat at the farthest corner of the cafe, a white mug suddenly sat at the middle of the round table, just above the notebook Kyungsoo was carefully jotting on.

“Here.” The guy said, letting go of the mug’s handle.

Kyungsoo looked up to the man and put down the pen he was holding, and then looked down on the mug right in front him. The liquid inside was black. The first thing he thought was bitter Americano.

“What’s in it?” He then asked sheepishly. As far as first impressions go, the guy may have thought that he’s a bitter but a strong kind of guy.

“Taste it and I’ll come back to you. I have tables to wait, too, so enjoy.” The guy replied. Kyungsoo finally saw the name plate the other was desperately hiding by the side pocket of his apron. Kai, it read.

Kai walked away and went to another table to talk to another customer, taking his mug for a refill. Kyungsoo watched him walk back the counter, finding another with an apron on, this time a lady with blonde hair. The two talked animatedly as she prepared the cup, a soft chuckle obvious from the way her shoulders shook with a smile lingering on her lips for too long.

Pulling his gaze away from the cafe staff, he took the handle of the mug in front him, feeling its warmth on the tips of his fingers. He wondered if it was Kai’s hand that warmed it, or the coffee itself, but decided it wasn’t worth the debate in his head. He placed his lips on the white ceramic, excited for the burst of heat and surprise taste the liquid will bring.

Then it hit him – it was bitter and burning hot at the same time, his tongue automatically went numb that instant. Never was he trying the same coffee again. He almost slammed it back down the table, but quickly gathered his composure as not to make a scene. He placed it gently back exactly where he took it, and continued writing again.

He was almost finished writing lyrics, which was about an hour in the works since he sat down there, when Kai sat in front him with a chocolate frappe in hand. He sipped from it and then carefully placed it on the table, putting beside it a book, the one he was holding when Kyungsoo came in.

Kyungsoo was quick to look up to him, and was shocked as to why the guy would just sit there without asking him.

“How was the coffee?” He asked. Kyungsoo chukled and shook his head.

“Bitter.” He spat. “Not my kind of coffee. What do you take me for?” He curiously asked.

“There it is.” Kai replied teasingly. “What exactly is your kind of coffee anyway? If you don’t like a simple Americano, then probably coffee isn’t your thing?”

Ha. He got me. Kyungsoo thought.

“I like sweet things, but today I opted for something strong – a kick-like taste.”

“And I gave you an Americano. You asked me what I think a guy like you would want, and I thought that you don’t know exactly what you want. So I gave you the most basic drink, which,” he took a peak on the mug on the table, “you sipped once and completely rejected.”

Kyungsoo smiled. He never imagined meeting a person like Kai in his life – someone who can read him easily, moreover know what his taste is.

“I’m not really a fan of coffee, but I needed a rush of caffeine or alcohol to keep myself on track with what I’m doing.” He explained. “Sugar rush is something my system is used to. I usually fall sleepy when I drink anything sweet.”

“I guess we’re the same. I’m not a coffee drinker at all.” The other replied, sipping again with a straw.

“And you work in a cafe?”

“It’s a job, regardless of my preference.” Kai then explained. He stared at Kyungsoo for a while, before taking another sip of his frappe. “Won’t you have a taste of that coffee again?”

“I don’t think I can endure gulping down one sip of it ever again.” He chuckled. Kai did, too. Kyungsoo thought of taking one last sip to see if the first time was just an impression, that maybe the second time won’t be as bad as he thought. “Maybe I should try. I’ll pay for it anyway.”

Slowly he took the mug and held it with both hands, fingers entwining where they meet. The mug felt cold, as it was left as is for an hour or more, and he was certain that the liquid in it isn’t scorching an