Wet dew

on the bridge of my nose;

I reach out

desperately to hold you close.

Another reason why Myungsoo doesn’t completely dislike winter is coffee.

He likes to have an excuse for everything he does or has. And winter gives him an excuse to have a steaming mug of coffee every day. He doesn’t make it at home though – he can never get it right. Sometimes, it’s the sugar that he gets wrong, on other days it’s the cream. And sometimes, he gets everything wrong. So instead, he has scouted out a small café nearby his house, which sells nothing but coffee. Myungsoo likes their commitment to the sacred drink and goes there every day for a cup, maybe early in the morning, or late at night; always at extreme hours. On winter days, the café stays open all day and all night long so it suits Myungsoo’s erratic schedule perfectly.

Like Myungsoo, Sungjong goes to the same café every day for his daily draught of coffee.

Unlike Myungsoo, Sungjong’s schedule is inflexible and the time slot reserved for the café is never missed or altered.

Sungjong even has the table at the café where he sits fixed. It is right beside the window that overlooks the street, a two-seater. He puts his bag, folders, his scarf, and whatever else he is carrying on one chair and sits on the other. The existence of his possessions on the other chair helps to staunch his feelings of bitter loneliness. He tries other methods as well, like reading books or trying to work on song lyrics. But his eyes always wander around, looking at everything and nothing at all. The café is always packed at the time when he chooses to go there. It is the coldest part of the day, along dusk, and the cold drives people in hordes into the small, warm shop. This distracts Sungjong and every time someone new enters, he sighs. He wonders what joy he finds in observing people. Maybe he has been a bit too lonely for a bit too long. Maybe it is company he pines for, or a cold embrace that will wrap him warmth.

Myungsoo’s only attraction at the warm, snug café is the mouth-watering coffee, nothing else; or so he tells himself; he lacks nothing more.