we met at a coffee shop downtown; not far from your house, you told me. 

the warm scent of rich coffee and gentle flow of classical music that filled the building reminded me of you somehow. 

(and yet ive only known you for a few hours)

"miyoung?"  a voice; a deep bass—unlike your tenor—that seemed to rumble deep from the bearer's chest called out my name. 

i didn't understand the feeling; it was soft, but underneath intense and booming.

(a cello)

"yes?"  the man behind the voice was tall, very tall—unlike you—with ears that couldn't be hidden underneath a mess of black waves.

(you're cuter)

"kyungsoo has been waiting for you. he's sitting over there." 

The cello flashed a smile that i didn't see,

(i was looking at you)

and i walked over to where you sat

(so still)

legs poised, arms crossed, waiting for me.

you looked softer now, more casual, with a charcoal gray sweater that brought out your eyes. 

(nothing covering them today)

"hello kyungsoo."

"hello."

i sat down next to you, purposely scraping the floor with the chair so you could hear where i was. 

(i hope i wasn't too loud)

"you sound nice today."  you laughed.

i laughed.

(this was our first date)