160807 Coffee confession ft. Kim Namjoon     There is a book café downtown that I frequent. It is perfectly hidden away from the general crowd of everyday and only those who already know about this place know how to come.    The bells on the door jingle as I push it open, and a warm welcome greets me from behind the cashier counter. Kim Namjoon, his name tag reads. Besides the ambience of this cafe, Kim Namjoon is the other reason why I actually bother to travel so far just for coffee and peaceful silence. As he lifts his arm to wave at me, Namjoon accidentally knocks over a vase on the counter. He makes a good save by catching it before it can fall and shatter, but still hues of reds and pinks tint his dimply cheeks.    “An iced caramel macchiato?” He asks as I make my way to the counter. I will never understand why the boss here would hire such a klutz but there’s no denying his coffee tastes the best among the other baristas here.    I’ve been coming so frequently that I don’t even have to make my own order anymore. I figured a while back that he probably just had a really good memory and think nothing of it, effectively dismissing the butterflies in my stomach. The other barista inside moves away as Namjoon proceeds with my order. Everyone here knows Namjoon’s coffee is the only coffee I don’t complain on.    “Miss, your coffee.” Namjoon slides my drink over the counter. Miss… I can only blame myself for being so timid, unable to muster courage to tell him my name.    “Thank you.” Shyly smiling, I look at the stack of books and laptop in my hands and mentally smack myself for not thinking to put my things down at a table first.    “Here, let me help you.” He routes around the counter and takes the weight off my arms. When he sees my lack of reaction, he tilts his head at the coffee on the counter, signalling for me to follow him. Not surprisingly, he puts my things down at a table in the far corner - my favourite table.    “Thank you,” I thank him once again, earning myself his signature smile. Bowing slightly, he returns back to his station behind the counter.    Before I start on my work, I take a sip of my drink and lean back on the chair, closing my eyes and relishing in the soft background music of the cafe. The smell of freshly roasted coffee fills my nostrils. I breath a sigh of contentment. When I open my eyes again, I’m shocked to see Namjoon standing in front of me, a plate of cookies in his hand. He runs an embarrassed hand through his hair, the action bringing out his boyish charms and making my heart beat faster than it should.   “Sorry if I startled you,” he says, and I shake my head.   “No, it’s okay.” I smile. Returning the gesture, he shyly puts the place of cookies down beside my coffee.    “It